faderift | [ota] nobody's gonna have an orgy in their mansion all over their nice furniture

WHO: OTA, more or less
WHAT: An all-hands infiltration mission ends up being rather more hands than anticipated.
WHEN: Nowish
WHERE: At an estate outside Ostwick
NOTES: Sending crystals are allowed but must be used with the utmost discretion to avoid discovery. A general warning for Eyes Wide Shut-type party nonsense, but more fancy swinger makeouts than sex dungeon. Please make sure to communicate OOCly to ensure everyone's having fun. NSFW content is likely, but if a thread is going to turn into prolonged porn please shift it to an inbox.

Word has come through reliable sources that Baron Hounsford, secretly a significant financial supporter first of the Inquisition and now of Riftwatch as well, is to be the target of an assassnation attempt. Precisely why or by whom is unknown, just that the threat is imminent. Worse, the Baron has left behind his personal guard to attend a somewhat mysterious event at the home of Lord Esterhauzy, outside Ostwick. All Riftwatch has been able to learn on such short notice is that the estate is secluded and the event extravagant. The massive scale is a blessing and a curse: it's certainly big enough to sneak in quite a lot of people, so long as they look as if they have money, but by the same token it will be easy for assassins to sneak in as well, and difficult to quickly locate anyone.

On arrival, everyone willing to dress the part is ushered in to Lord Esterhauzy's glittering mansion, where the difficulties of the mission suddenly become much greater: each person, whether disguised as guest or staff, will be handed a random mask, and informed of the rules:

Merry Widow of Wycome

The dimly candle-lit ballroom is already loud with masked guests, so many that they spill out onto the torch-studded terraces and garden beyond. The room is overwarm, but not sweltering thanks to the efforts of oiled footmen posted near the windows with large fans, and the servants circulating with trays of icy-cold champagne. Somewhere in this crowd are Baron Hounsford and those who wish to kill him, and the only way to find them is to spread out, speak to as many people as possible, and regularly pool information among themselves to try to zero in on their targets. They must mingle as if lives depend upon it.

Those reluctant to participate if it might be avoided will discover that locations where private conversation can be had without complying with the house rules are almost non-existent. Lord Esterhauzy learned his lesson the last time he tried this--it is a common subject of gossip among the crowd that the last party he had advertised as the most debauched of the season fizzled out into merely a slightly racy cocktail hour with underdressed staff. This time he has taken precautions, blocking off most of the house, monitoring access to the rest to ensure it's for sexy purposes only, and empowering staff to have anyone not complying with the spirit of the event thrown out--lest they think that an idle threat, shortly after they arrive several people are unmasked and thrown out for not obeying the musical cue, much to the laughter of the crowd. Even the grounds are patrolled.

There are several spots they've overlooked: a linen closet, a stairwell alcove, a corner of the library, but Riftwatch aren't the only ones to have discovered this, and there is no guarantee any particular hiding spot will be available when the music stops.

As the night goes on and the crowd gets drunker, the tone gradually shifts from slightly giggly titillation to more serious debauchery (much to Lord Esterhauzy's delight. If at first you don't succeed!) but there remains a veneer of decorum that keeps it from sliding into obscenity: people may saunter off to the garden or a private room with someone else's spouse(s), but nobody is just openly fucking on the piano.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I. party rock in the house tonight

It's not difficult to get people with delusions of grandeur to talk at length about themselves, though an affair like this has different tactics. What you might break a finger to find out elsewhere, here takes a simple whispered word in the ear. A hand on the back instead of a blow to the kidney. A thumb brushing a jawline instead of forcing its way into an eye socket.

It's also not difficult to spot the Riftwatch agents in the crowd, if you know what to look for.

"This is ridiculous."

II. one kiss away from killing

The music starts, and Lino grabs the person next to him--or whoever he is talking to--and pulls them closer. One hand on the back of their neck, tilting their head and meeting their mouth to his. His kisses are neither stilted nor perfunctory, but confident and demanding and forceful.

III. your body talks

[ Wildcard. Take a fuckin sip babes this is your chance to kiss the crow. ]

And Mhavos is minding his own damned business when large, strong hands grab him and- he's already scrabbling for an escape, some way to break the hold, until he hears the music swell, and-

"Va te faire foutre et ta mère."

He just has to get the last word, before he's passionately kissed by a man too large and too hairy to make the experience even minutely enjoyable.

It's a short distance to move his hand from the back of Mhavos' neck to his throat. Lino's thumb presses on the elf's pulse, and if it's not clear from that or the man's aggressive mouth, it's clear from the way his eyes drift to the band that he's very much not enjoying this either.

Mhavos' hand slides up in what could be seen as an a lover's caress... from a distance. But his hand rests at Lino's temple, and his thumb is precariously close to the other man's eye. Unspoken: he's as prepared to give if he's to get. Seemingly this extends to threats of violence as well as kissing.

Oh good, so they're agreed. This is terrible. He eases up just enough to convey a truce of sorts.

With the blasted musicians still playing the song, the new challenge becomes communicating sans mouth. Lino taps out a question in code on Mhavos' neck.

And Mhavos moves his fingers away from Lino's eyes, just slightly. The problem is what he's doing with his hands- ah. A code. A code Mhavos does not know at all. And, certainly, if he were just a clerk, he would especially not know it.

He draws a question mark on Lino's temple, and tries to ignore how his body is reacting. It's been a very long time since he's been kissed, and his face is starting to flush. He'll blame it on embarrassment, and perhaps scratch Lino's eyes out when it's over. It's certainly become the primary thing he's fantasizing about, with Lino's huge tongue in his mouth.

He rolls his eyes and mentally rifles through his options, but blessedly before he can pick a second coded avenue, the music stops playing that damn song. He breaks the kiss just as forcefully as he started it, and growls out his message before stalking off.

"Le lapin masque, branleur."

Mhavos, of course, assumes it's an insult. Lapin. How could it not be? He rolls his eyes, and hisses an insult in return ("Et vous, le chien baveux.") that he doubts Lino can even hear. He's not about to shout, anyway.

Ugh. Ugh. He restrains himself from spitting in a napkin or perhaps shoving a tablecloth into his mouth, deciding instead to down some sour wine, anything to get the taste out.

Edited (such an important edit.) 2019-09-01 16:39 (UTC)

"It's not so bad," Derrica counters mildly. She's self-conscious enough about her place within Riftwatch that admitting she doesn't hate this party is off the table. They aren't really here to be kissing nobility, after all.

"Maybe the thing we're looking for isn't even going to happen."

As she says this, she squints up at Lino's face. It's hard to read people with these masks on. But even so, Derrica can't tell if people will be relieved or upset at having had to spend their entire night here if an assassination attempt doesn't occur.

He glances down at the girl, frowning. He doesn't know this one.

"No," he says, scanning the crowd again. "Something is going to happen."

If not the assassination attempt, then at least a fight. Lino might even be the one to start it.

"Only an idiot would pass up the opportunity."

It's not necessarily wrong, but his vehemence catches Derrica off guard. She clears her throat, looking up to meet his eyes before looking away, watching the fine-garbed nobility clustering together on the dance floor.

"Sounds like fun."

Which is about as sarcastic as Derrica gets. She tips her wine glass from side to side thoughtfully.

"Do you think it's already been done?" She asks. "Maybe they set a trap, and we're looking for the wrong thing entirely."

"You haven't been checking for traps?"

Derrica can't help but make a small face at that.

"I'm trying."

But she isn't good at spotting traps, and even Laura's small bits of advice can't fix that in a hurry. Even so, she isn't eager to admit that to this giant of a man.

"Have you?"

"No," he says simply. "If they were after Esterhauzy, maybe, but there's too much risk of getting the wrong target here."

The Baron won't have a routine to exploit in a house that isn't his.

It's not wrong. Derrica scans the ballroom again, sighs quietly.

"We might not be able to find them," she observes. "Not until the very last moment."

If that moment even comes. There's always a chance it doesn't. It's not the worst outcome. The Baron returns home to his guards and to relative safety, and Riftwatch can approach this in a more organized fashion than groping aimlessly around a ballroom.

"Better stick close to the Baron, then."

Unless you don't want to save him and just want a good view, but that doesn't seem the point of Riftwatch attending this idiotic party.

[ota] nobody's gonna have an orgy in their mansion all over their nice furniture

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ii. im sorry this was too funny to pass up.

jfc there's no universe in which this ISN'T funny

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