faderift | OPEN | Bon anniversaire, nos vœux les plus sincères ♪

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OPEN | Bon anniversaire, nos vœux les plus sincères ♪

WHO: Evie, Lexie, their CR, and anyone else who feels like Partying Hearty on someone else's dime
WHAT: b u r s d a y
WHEN: 22nd of Justinian
WHERE: the De La Fontaine apartments in Hightown
NOTES: quality sisterhood, a lot of booze, a 100% chance of embarrassing parlor games in which one is required to kiss inanimate objects or try to bargain for ladies gloves or recite poetry or sing or do whatever other party trick you have that you've never gotten to showcase.

please threadjack each other atrociously (unless otherwise noted). ♥

Had a certain hot-house blossom hurricane of a sister not decided to join Geneviève in Kirkwall, the Chevalier would most likely have let the day pass— as she had before— without overmuch note. Alexandrie, however, takes after their Lady Mother when it comes to extravagant parties and will not be satisfied without a certain level of celebration on the occasion of their shared natal day. Given that the two women are currently sharing the Hightown apartments both rented and renovated by their architect father and that there will be a party happening there, it seems that this year Evie will be celebrating her birthday.

To this end, there is a not insignificant amount of alcohol and seemingly self-replenishing finger foods both sweet and savory. The household staff that came along with the twins to Kirkwall may be small, but all have been with the family for over a decade at the least and are prideful in their service both in representing the De La Fontaines and, in what has become an even more cosmopolitan city since the installation of the Inquisition, Orlais.

Those who need particular invitation have been particularly invited, and the rest of the Inquisition has been duly informed by crystal. Let's do this.

A Party in Several Parts:

I. Sister Sister (closed to Lexie and Evie): Look, Evie, if you don't let her get you fancy, what even is the point of Lexie coming to Kirkwall anyway. Should we bicker about dresses? We should bicker about dresses. Let Emile put your hair up for the Maker's sake, and please borrow her best set of pearls, she knows they look good on us. Honestly if you don't accessorize you'll be very sorry when she convinces everyone to play Le Créancier or a rousing and heartily impertinent game of strip Vingt-Et-Un and you don't have anything to take off but your shirt.

II. Blood, Bond, Besties, and Beaus (closed to fambly/CR): Those personally known by the twins have been informed of an earlier time to join them for what will be a slightly more intimate gathering. Gossip, catch up, bemoan the lack of society here, pregame the rest of the Inquisition appearing, listen to Lexie show off on harpsichord before she gets too tipsy for 64th notes, show off yourself, play cards, lounge. L o u n g e!

III. Party Time, Excellent (OTA!): The festivities are in full swing by this point, and throughout the night somehow there are still more of those little darling sandwiches, and there always seems to be another cask of something. It only happens once a year, right? Appreciate the apartments, let an inebriated Lexie dress you up, go find some secluded corner with someone you've had your eye on, play ridiculous parlor games. Speaking of whiiiich...

IV. Le Créancier (OTA! One thread for this one!): Eventually, Lexie is going to want to play a game. The rules, she explains, are simple: someone will be chosen to begin as the creditor, and they shall approach another player to collect the debt owed them. A number of kisses, perhaps, or a segment of verse, song, dance, show of acrobatic prowess, a piece of truth, a dare, anything else your terribly clever minds can concoct. The debtor must then argue with them, appeal to their better nature, or attempt to otherwise evade the collection. Hold fast, creditor! In the end, the debtor must either acquiesce or protest that they are entirely insolvent and offer some accessory or article of clothing— worry not, all shall be returned— to be accepted in its stead. The debtor then becomes the creditor and approaches another!

[OOC: Anyone who wants to play, drop me a line on plurk/discord/journal message me so I know who all is available to be picked. If you have something you'd particularly like your character to be asked to do (a talent they're shy about but that you'd like to see them get to show off), let me know! Start that ship! Surprise everyone with your character's virtuosity! I'll make sure everyone's coordinated. 8D Shine on, you crazy diamonds.]

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A fancy party with the Who's Who of Kirkwall's Inquisition? Benedict would be a fool to miss it, but he'd be a rube if he showed up on time. He arrives fashionably late (as his family is known to do), swanning into the room wearing his best from Minrathous, the trunk of which finally, finally arrived along with his best scents, jewels, and hair oils. At last he appears the lordling he is, and he acts the part as he struts from one end of the party room to another.

Ah, there's the wine.

Smiling winningly at Evie or Lexie-- who cares which-- he raises his glass to both or neither, and takes a sip.

It was Geneviève, as it happens. A rustle at his ear, followed by a light weight settling above it will herald the other one, however, with her bright puckish smile (the edges of her lipstick still somehow sharp enough to cut glass) and her arms filled with the entirety of a not inconsequential flower arrangement.

"Ah! Lord Artemaeus," Alexandrie says delightedly, "a true pleasure to finally have your name."

"Naturally," he replies, looking Lexie over and vaguely recalling her from the tourney-- now that he looks more closely, it's obvious which is which, not that he'd ever make the effort to point it out.

"A true pleasure to grace you with it at last." Holding his wine glass aside, he extends a hand for hers, bending to kiss it primly if she lets him.

Which Alexandrie of course will.

"When me met at the Tournament I would not have guessed at a person of your bearing being a part of the Inquisition," she says brightly. "How delighted I am to find myself incorrect! You must come and dance with me later on, I would consider it a gift."

She butters him up easily, Benedict's eyes radiating warmth as he smiles down at Lexie, gripping her hand perhaps a little longer than he should.
"Consider it done," he replies, and after a moment's thought, adds, "I admit I'm intrigued as to why you decided to leave the usual masks out of the festivities." He's not used to southern parties being so Tevinter-friendly.

In general, Alexandrie is given to letting men keep hold of her hand for so long as they desire to do so, with her head slightly tilted and her gaze intent. After all, it is no faux pas on her part. Her smile broadens at his acquiescence. "C'est si bon, you must come and claim me once I have brightened all our guests." She lifts her flowers slightly to indicate her continued purpose.

"As for the masks? Why, I shall admit to being intriguing."

"Claim you I shall," Benedict drawls, getting into the role, and raises his hand slightly to lead Lexie into a casual twirl. There are a lot of social skills he has come to lack as a result of his secluded upbringing, but being a flirt is right up there with learning his spells.

"Is there a flower for me?"

Now this is more like it.

This Benedict is a far cry from his listless hung over Tournament incarnation, and a very pleasant surprise. Alexandrie laughs delightedly as she accepts the lead, and makes a practiced spin beneath his arm at the speed necessary for this particular dress to spread nicely and then fall again. It would have been slightly more impressive were she not drunk, as she does spin a bit too far and overbalances with a little yip.

If he were any farther away, Bene might not catch her, but seeing as Lexie is still holding onto his hand, he feels obligated. Stepping forward, he turns the stumble into a dip, resting one hand at the small of her back and righting her again with a charming grin.
"Has my lady been in her cups," he muses, cheekily.

The yip dissolves into a bright giggle as she is caught and dipped, with an expression on her face that suggests the possibility that perhaps this was, in fact, where she had wanted to end up all along.

"Has my lord not?" Alexandrie queries in return as she is righted, taken aback and eyeing his glass as if it being less than full were a shocking personal insult. "Unconscionable! What terrible hospitality. I shall write the hostess a strongly worded note." She smiles, as cheeky as his musing had been, and gestures for a servant to correct the issue.

"Oh!" That is unconscionable. Bene's smile is actually somewhat genuine when Lexie calls for wine, as is his amusement at her threat of writing the hostess. "Regardless of her missteps, it seems her assistant has it all under control."

"Really, she is absolutely hopeless without me," Alexandrie mourns exaggeratedly, then looks at Benedict through her eyelashes. "Why, near as hopeless as I would have found myself without your having caught me. Such heroism deserves reward." Making a show of carefully selecting a flower from her armful to best match him, she reaches up to tuck it behind his ear and then steps back to admire the full look. "Voilà!"

"I deeply regret to inform you that you may have to repeat such a feat in the future, my lord, as I am so very clumsy," Alexandrie says, shaking her head with a sigh of consternation at herself before raising her eyebrows and tapping her smile with a thoughtful finger. "I may have run out of flowers by then, but I am sure I can think of some other appropriate expression of gratitude."

Benedict apparently is at last dressed as he ought to be. The mages of Tevinter have a reputation to maintain, and Thor is afraid they're doing a poor job of it for the most part... but at least now they all look the part.

"It is an impressive party, for the south." There's a distinct lack of slaves circulating to make sure everyone's needs are met, but it's decent enough aside from that.

Maybe some of them are doing a poor job of it, Benedict would argue, but he is certainly doing his best.

He's staring off at something with a perplexed, vaguely disgusted expression when Thor approaches, and it takes him somewhat by surprise, turning abruptly to blink at the larger man and eventually register that he should smile. "For the south," he agrees, and raises his glass to gently clink with Thor's.

The clink is unexpected, but Thor masks it with a nod. Maybe the young man has information for him, and that's promising.

"They seem to be giving you greater freedom of late," Thor says, looking around. "Is that because of the lessons you are offering, or are the lessons in response to that?"

"It's because I returned of my own free will," Bene replies, masking his residual dismay at having been played for a fool by... well, he's not sure who, apart from the greater universe. Or his mother. But that hardly matters, no need to name names, he's here now!

"There's quite a lot more trust between the Inquisition and myself when nobody's holding anybody hostage." He sips from his wine again. "I've decided to help."

He makes a thoughtful noise, sipping his drink. While it's possible Benedict is going traitor, he doesn't think the boy is quite that foolish. Yet.

"They are letting mages wander freely for the moment." His voice is dry. "I do not think it will last. But for the moment, it does seem that no one is a hostage." In Kirkwall. There's at least one magister held hostage in Skyhold and Thor likes to keep that thought in the back of his mind as he navigates through things here. They can always turn on him.

"It is good to have another Tevinter face around, and I am glad to see you free. No one of our heritage should be in a position like that."

Traitor? Bene would scoff at the thought, if he knew it. This is a full-blown Artemaeus gambit, and as long as his mother believes in it, so does he.
"No one who matters," he chirps, offering a grin over his wine. Atticus can rot, as far as he's concerned.

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OPEN | Bon anniversaire, nos vœux les plus sincères ♪

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