005 | open

[shri]

WHO: Lakshmi & YOU ( & Sometimes A Magni )
WHAT: Open post for Lakshmi for this month + community outreach + elephant training + the dinner people want to come to!
WHEN: coughs
WHERE: The Gallows & around
NOTES: Just Lakshmi being extra.

I. COMPLAINTS BOX

It's, as it goes, a very informal setup. Shockingly informal to the last time she did this particular sort of thing. But it stands to reason the Inquisition can't fix things - and, she the person in charge of fixing those complaints and to hear such concerns, especially - if she doesn't know it. There is only so much she will get passed along from Coupe, Thranduil, Herian and Beleth especially, and what would the leaders in Skyhold know on a street level?

The plan to that end, is simple. She gets help finding a table, a chair, a semi-dry bit of street under an awning, outside of a pub ( a few coins given over to a landlord to afford the space ) a quill and ink, and sits herself down. She wears her Inquisition clothes, not heavily armed, with her sleeves pushed up to her elbows and - the veil gone for the most part. Instead, more distinctive as herself which has more to do with being unmistakeably her, she wraps all her hair up in a red turban. Part pride, the official nature to her own mind of one of her courtiers, but - part knowledge that being distinctive in even such a small way is obvious to even those who can't remember her name if they pass it along. The woman with the red cloth around her head will, and with it, one invitation.

If you have a grievance to do with the inquisition, come and tell it to her.

And she sits there and she listens and she takes notes. Every little thing that is told. The assurance at least, that in her long curling script of Farsi, Hindi and Marathi - no one can read it but her at the present time. For one hour every day, just after lunchtime, so can be found Lakshmibai, a human complaint box.

It doesn't work immediately. It doesn't even work not immediately, it isn't like people here trust strangers, trust someone so outside of themselves, and let alone someone working as part of a figure of authority. Half of it's heckling, insults, jostling to say vile things against her or rifters or that prick that runs the pub that kicked him out. She doesn't respond in anger or violence to it, all the same. She takes the notes down as seriously as she does any other.

Until, eventually, some do come, one or two. A young man annoyed with his shoes because all the good cobblers were busy working for armies. A mother furious that she had to drag her daughters inside when they should be washing clothes because there were so many soldiers about. More things like that. It isn't much, or particularly important, but she talks it through with each person that comes, recording it all in quickly scribbled words.

At the very least, she ends up having a decent repour with the tavern owner.

She know ultimately it amounts to no more than what it seems, the appearance of listening. But it is a start, and one she does gladly - and for someone as able to pick arguments as she is, she does it with little comment and good nature.

But it is still dull work on most afternoons, so if someone passes by that she does know - she is quick to make conversation. A brief wave and call of "How goes you?"

II. ELEPHANT TRAINING

For anyone that volunteered for it, Lakshmi knocks on their door for the training and drags them out onto the field.

(Woe to you if you try to ditch, you get the most disappointed look of your life. Like a mother that can't believe you are breaking her heart this way. Do you want her to die of old age and you not do your own part? You shame her, you shame your family, you shame the inquisition. )

And there is a series of drills over the weeks. A great deal of them built around jumping and building upper body strength. Have you ever done a chin up? Well, now you certainly are. Then once she thinks you're strong enough, you have to do it again, in armour. Whatever the preference might be. Building up to get used to latching onto, grappling and scrambling.

But today, today she insists will be fun for anyone that's come along to training.

'Fun' in the case of Rani Lakshmibai, means taking a running jump onto the shield of a crouching soldier, landing mid-stride with one foot and being launched the rest of the distance towards the tree branch and catching herself with both arms on the wood. One second free swinging before she pulls herself up the rest of the way.

The explanation is brief, today we're going to put all the training from everything else together. She isn't totally merciless. Under the street is a stack of hay-filled bags and thickly padded blankets over the top to stop any injuries from the process.

With the brief explanation of today's exercise, Lakshmi shimmies back down the tree and lands with a heavy thump, brushing her hands off and takes the shield off the hand of the person who had demonstrated with her. Hefting it up her arm and latching it to her wrist. The kind she favours is a medium round shield, covering her upper body neatly.

"So, who is game to try it?"

III. MY DEFIANT LOVER HAS RETURNED ( DINNER PARTY )

It's not that she's nervous no one will come.

It's that she's made an awful lot of food, and what is she going to do with it all if no one does? Because it turned out you could take the woman from her homeland, but not the homeland from the woman who had been roused in the kitchens by her mother-in-law, who is that going to feed? We are the house of Newalker, we will not be dishonoured by sending people home hungry! That never quite leaves the back of her head when she prepares for anything.

But she has set the room up especially for it too. Her new single room, with the bed, desk, table and chairs, pushed all to the side, and a central floor space completely cleared. Rather, instead, she has laid out a rug across the middle of the floor, cushions around it. Oil lanterns burn fragrant dotted here and there - and on the table that had been in the middle, set to one side, has been ladened with food, so much so it might groan under the weight of it all. All of it smells rich and strong, of spices. How she has afforded that boggles the mind because she doesn't seem to have skimped on a single bit of it. From the dried shredded coconut mixed into the black peppers that sharply taste when bitten into. It stains itself red, yellow, green, and just as she said of it, not a bit of it has meat in it.

Each guest is greeted by her - and not so far from her, Magni as well. The tall Avvar woman easily dwarfs her as she hangs behind Lakshmi. Between them, even if it not direct nor spoken directly of, that familiarity between them that they can stand so easily in small spaces together with more than comfort in the exchange. The hand that settles on Lakshmi's waist or how Lakshmi in return will place a hand on her arm as she passes. Though in her greetings, Lakshmi makes no comment or acknowledgement, rather too busy playing hostess. Dressed as immaculately as she set up the room, the saree discarded for the warmer months, and her anakarli dress and the matching white dupatta are thicker to keep her warm. Her long black hair pinned up atop her head and set with flowers. The gold shimmering at her brow, ears, fingers and ankles against the white material. The anklet chiming with her step that makes each movement distinct. The bindi on her brow has been remarked deeply over the usual small dot that was long ago tattooed on. Tonight its a half moon below it and a broader circle, both done in a deep, deep red. Just the same, her fingertips have all been stained the same colour, and with a bigger red circle in the middle of her palms. Thanks be to the Dalish woman she met that taught her what they used to stain skin here.

She is herself, tonight. No more, and no less, the sort of woman she had once been, as when a guest arrives, she neither bows nor curtsies to them, to welcome them in. Rather after they have taken their shoes off ( she meant it, don't you dare track dirt into her room ), she drops to touch the ground in front of their feet, before rising up again. Her hands pressing palm to palm, for a moment, before she gestures past her as she steps aside. "Please, come on. Will you have something to drink?"

[ ooc: feel free to hop around and do different things in this as much as you like, it's a dinner party after all! ]

IV. WILDCARD

Got something you want to do? Please feel free!

Comments

attending a dinner party - very OTA

[notched]

ALMOST ENTIRELY FLAVOR TEXT
She has been informed that it pleases people, while they are eating, if she would remove her coat. So she comes without the stinking, tattered thing. She also leaves her oversized hat and its leather gorget that laces up all the way past her nose. She is a much smaller woman without these trappings. Delicate and pale with large, dark eyes and a childishly pouting set to her mouth. Not so ominous nor intimidating, but... she wasn't here for that, was she.

As requested, her hands are washed, her face is clean, the rats nest that is normally her hair has been tamed, somewhat-- the braid hangs around her shoulder. She deeply dislikes this final piece of taking off her boots, an obvious manifestation of her hyper-vigilance. She never knew when she would need to pick up and leave a place, and fussing to put back on one's boots was wasted time. But neither can she argue that the boots aren't filthy. She does it, finally, after loitering around the door a little too long, leaning back into the wall to pull the knee-high leather boots off. She loses even a little more height and weight when she does this.

Without armor or weapon, she goes in. And is uncomfortable for it.

A DINNER GUEST
Anna, as she introduces herself, is a very quiet and somber woman. She mostly listens to those around her, tending not to speak unless spoken to. Even when the jokes are good she does not laugh, but instead looks up from her food with her large eyes to acknowledge it before returning downwards into the meal. She picks slowly at the food, uncertain if she likes it, and drinks whatever is put in front of her without question. The alcohol in Thedas is not nearly as strong as the blood cocktails of Yharnam, she finds they do fairly little to her unless it is very strong and she drinks rather a lot of it.

If one does talk to her, one on one, she is a thoughtful and careful listener on any topic. She expresses her own lack of knowledge on topics without reservation, and is never unhappy to hear what people have to say. She does not, however, much want to talk about herself, if it can be helped.

A QUESTION
She had come to this party under the premise of asking a single question: "What is most important to you, in life?"

[shri]

It isn't booze that Lakshmi pours into Anna's cup when she comes by. Though there is certainly wine enough for anyone that wants it.

Rather, the milk drink is thick, frothy, and it smells of pepper and cinnamon, that bitter after taste of aniseed and the lightness of honey. Faintly orange in colour as she pours from the jug of it she has mixed up. Lakshmi holding her fingers lightly as they sit adorned with rings and chains around the cup.

"Here, try this. It helps keep the cold out."

[notched]

This is another thing she is not entirely certain she likes. The smells are strange and contradictory, the color odd. Still, she takes it, holding it in her hands and letting the smells settle on her senses. In general, she is not used to eating anything which piqued the senses like this. She had been living on blood and jerky for too long, and even in Thedas where there was food enough, none of it drew her attention. She still most often ate in the dark, chewing dried pieces of meat joylessly.

"It's all very good, thank you," she says, unconvincing but polite. "I've never had anything like it."

[shri]

"I thought not," she says mildly, as she pours the drink and then sets aside the jug. There is a frankly motherly tone of disapproval as she goes on.

"I've seen you eat, little bits and pieces here. I already find their food here largely dull, but you - " she flicks her fingers, as if perish the thought, what misery it was as far as she considers.

[notched]

Her nose wrinkles, at this mothering. She never had a mother, she'd only ever had the nuns who were strict and unfeeling in their dreary isolated nunnery that'd had little room for them. It had been Anna who was the mother. The one to find and sacrifice food to her sister, the one to find them clothes and warmth and safety. Having it turned on her makes her even less hungry. In the Hunters, they'd been a rather well-trained pack of dogs under Gehrman's watch, eating what was within reach with little cares about who they starved out or even what they were eating. Should anyone have noticed a straggler, they wouldn't have been mothered they would have been hazed a bit; with good nature.

Ah. She's really not fit for dinner parties.

"Aye, eyes bigger than my stomach." Not strictly true, but that's how the saying goes. "Maybe I'll get hungrier, with time."

She assuredly would, if the beast blood took her.

[shri]

Worse no doubt, because Lakshmi hardly looks that much older than Anna. Even if it's there at the odd details, the little marks and scars that are given over a lifetime, eyes far too old for her face as she smiles, watchful, but not wary. Warm, comfortable, friendly. Creasing laugh lines at the corners like crow's hopped on her cheeks.

"I hope so, you're far too thin under that coat."

[notched]

"Too heavy and I can't move so quickly."

Which is very important to a Hunter, at least to her variety of it. And yes, that is the excuse she's going with.

[shri]

That is absolutely never going to fly.

"Too thin, and you won't be able to hold it up." Go on Anna, she's waiting for you to have a bigger bite to eat.