OPEN | Bon anniversaire, nos vœux les plus sincères ♪

[coquettish_trees]

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.]

Comments

[coquettish_trees]

Loki, being soundly trod upon, strangles a yelp and glowers impressively at Thor.

Alexandrie finds herself with raised eyebrows and an expression of gently bemused disbelief at both such antics and Thor's seeming actual and unquestioning acceptance of her facetious engagement to his brother. It is... truly and honestly adorable. And therefore very suspect. But it would indeed fit well enough into the puzzle if the elder Asgard were to simply be that kind of man. Which is really too much. Her smile begins at that curious bemusement and widens slowly from there until she looks as utterly delighted as one might be upon being unexpectedly presented with a large fluffy puppy.

It makes a goodly amount of sense. She had been there to see the magical combat at the Tournament, and Thor was, without question, an exceptionally powerful mage. Overtly powerful enough to be able to be largely successful in using sincerity and good will as his armaments in the upper echelons of society. Such a thing was certainly disarming, in the very rare moments when one came across it. (Such as this one).

It also answered why, precisely, there must be so much enmity between the two brothers. Or, at least, directed towards Thor. After all, it's very difficult for one to have the subtleties of one's playing appreciated when someone is nearby cheerfully banging a gong and seemingly unaware that doing so is in any way an imposition. This would perhaps be a cause for mere indulgent sighs but for the fact that this powerful, forthright, admittedly handsome fellow was also heir, and therefore needed little further distinction, but would, by simple virtue of where each brother's talents lay, near always receive it.

"Oh là," she says with a rueful chuckle, "Will you tell him or shall I, oh lune de mon coeur."