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

[hassaran]

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:

1. Masks must be worn at all times.
2. When the musicians play the famous Merry Widow of Wycome, every guest must kiss the person to whom they're speaking, or who is closest. They must continue until the music stops.
3. If they aren't interested in stopping, slipping away somewhere more private is an option (but given the competition for space, finding somewhere completely private may be a challenge.)
4. Any person found to be breaking these rules, or the spirit of them, will be unmasked, removed from the premises, and forbidden from attending in the future.

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.

Comments

ii. smoch

[sulahnan]

"Oh, good! Someone my height." Athessa sounds genuinely pleased and relieved to find herself the nearest to Derrica this go around, both because of their similar stature and because so many of the men at this party are bad kissers. Kissing is supposed to be a nice experience.

She's still smiling when she drapes her arms over Derrica's shoulders and kisses her.

[tender]

Arching up onto her tiptoes almost always seems to be part of the bargain for Derrica. She is used to leaning upwards, looping arms around shoulders, pulling people down to meet her as much as she stretches her body taut to close the space between them. It's pleasant in and of itself. It's become something Derrica likes. But Derrica likes a lot of things.

Athessa startles a laugh out of her. She is simply there. No adjustment. Derrica is laughing into the meeting of their mouths, hands instinctively coming up to steady them both.

This is nice, she thinks. She can taste a hint of something sweet, perhaps wine, perhaps a bit of candy. Her fingers tighten in the drape of Athessa's tunic. Derrica's found herself challenged to maintain a polite, professional kiss rather than letting herself get carried away. They aren't here to be part of the party the way the rest of the guests are, after all.

[sulahnan]

This is nice, and sweet (it's candy on Athessa's tongue, remnants of her attempt to drive the taste of wine and stranger-spit from her mouth), and fun, and why doesn't she kiss more girls more often? She'll have to fix the ratio later.

For now, the song still plays, and nobody's been assassinated yet, and Derrica's lips are soft and while Athessa won't take things too far beyond the realm of professional, she's not going to pass up the chance to deepen the kiss, or draw her teeth over Derrica's lower lip, or pull her closer so there's not even air between them, because kissing isn't only about the mouth.

Maintaining a convincing cover is professional, right?

[tender]

This is where Derrica stumbles. She's been stumbling here all night, stalled on how nice it is to kiss someone. (Most of the time. Most of the time.) Athessa reels her in and Derrica goes, humming in soft approval.

Briefly, she thinks about pinning Athessa up against one of the marble pillars surrounding the dance floor. Possibilities spin out in her mind as her hands tighten on Athessa's hips, dismissed as Derrica reminds herself what she's doing here,

Being useful. Professional.

"Not bad," she murmurs into Athessa's mouth. "Better than the last person who kissed me."

Sorry to the wine-soaked gent who spun Derrica around the floor last time this song played.

[sulahnan]

"Not bad?" Athessa drags her gaze up from Derrica's lips to her eyes. The dim lighting of the room will be sure to play on that tell-tale shine of elven pupils. She chuckles and lets one arm slip off of Derrica's shoulder, fingers trailing down her arm.

"I'll have to try harder next time." The music has stopped, unfortunately, but Athessa isn't in a hurry to move along. She brushes her lips against Derrica's lightly, not quite a kiss but merely a mingling of breath and almost. Then, she hooks her wandering fingers under Derrica's hand where it rests on her hip, lifts it to her mouth, and kisses her palm instead.

And with a grin, she slips back into the crowd, but not without a satisfied glance back over her shoulder.