[open] picnic at hanging rock

[heirring]

WHO: Wysteria, EVERYBODY, a bunch of demons, and I guess some guy named Tony Stark
WHAT: A picnic to celebrate a Riftversary goes terribly wrong. No, it has nothing to do with the rift that opens in the middle of it and everything to do with Wysteria forcing everyone to speed date.
WHEN: Mid-Kingsway
WHERE: The Scenic Vimmark Foothills in September
NOTES: Some light demon fighting and rift closing violence, will update if necessary.

PICNICKING
With the weather having only just recently cleared of its end of summer storms, taking the worst of the miserable humidity with it, it's almost a pleasant time accept an invitation to a picnic in the foothills East of Kirkwall. Posted on the Gallows notice board and distributed personally to a few close friends and enemies, the invite had read:

You are Cordially Invited to attend a Celebration acknowledging the completion of a year since Miss Wysteria Poppell arrived in Thedas. Please follow the Map on the facing page. Refreshments Provided. Games Obligatory. Gifts Optional.

And so roughly twenty blankets of varying sizes and patterns have been requisitioned (unofficially, with written apologies to the Seneschal slipped under his office oor) from the Gallows and laid in rough rows on a slightly less miserable than usual hill overlooking dark line of the Waking Sea. The refreshments? Meager. They're largely Gallows-typical fare packed in baskets, end of summer fruit and what is sure to be the last of cheaply had honey cakes before the shortage of sugar causes the market value of honey to skyrocket. But at least the wine on hand is excellent.

PARTY GAMES
--Which is a good thing, because the party games require a certain level of inebriation to be truly enjoyable. For those who'd like to preserve some sense of dignity, there are various card games and croquet (get your practice in now, Riftwatch Leaguers!); for the brave and daring, there is Snapdragon - a game in which participants snatch raisins from a shallow bowl of burning brandy.

But the main event, dubbed Tête-à-Tête, requires all partygoers to be numbered off intos ones and twos and then break up into pairs. Each pairing has three minutes to have whatever conversation they like together. At the end of three minutes, Wysteria rings a bell and Number Twos rotate to the next Number One waiting on their blankets of choice. And so on. No exceptions.

IT'S ALL FUN AND GAMES UNTIL--
The warmth of the day, the scorched fingertips, the limping conversation, and the dry Gallows rations all conspire to indulge in a not insignificant liquoring up. Which means the rift tearing open over the party is potentially more disastrous than normal. Good luck; don't get slashed by a Terror demon, and don't get caught under under new Rifters falling through from out of the fade.

Comments

ii.

[justashotaway]

Laura has figured out that this is Miss Wysteria Poppell, by this point, but beyond that, she hasn't learned much about her. Which, she supposes, means they will very easily win this game--there will be no concern that their conversation is somehow lacking.

"Yes." And then, realizing there are two questions, pauses. Yes only applies to the first. The second is distressingly general; she isn't entirely sure whether she's supposed to comment on the party or something more amorphous. "Why would I want to do things differently?"

[heirring]

Wysteria shifts slightly forward where she sits, ruining the delicate lay of her skirts in her eagerness to be correct. "Perhaps you would have preferred a different menu. Or other games? I would have liked to have something nicer packed along for eating, of course, but the prices in the Hightown market are largely above me, I'm afraid. But a deal was had on the wine. I have a friend in the merchant guild these days, you see. One who works with the customs officers in the docks. So the case was had quite cheap. --Well, not cheap, but it was certainly a bargain."

All of this tumbles out of her as if in one breath, and then pivots hastily in an entirely different direction seemingly without realizing that her earlier question was never actually properly answered.

"I don't believe we've met officially."

[justashotaway]

Laura is content to listen to Wysteria's rambling explanation, imagining in very vague terms all the other ways this gathering could have occurred. With fish instead of eggs, or playing yet more games she has never heard of before. It sounds as though there could be dozens of possibilities that did not occur. She had no idea.

"No," she agrees. And then, after an awkward pause, she realizes this is an invitation for her to say her name. People sometimes do this, ask for things without asking them out loud; she is not especially fond of it. But the goal is conversation, and so: "Laura Kint."

[heirring]

"What a pleasure it is to meet you, Serah Kint. I'm Wysteria Poppell. You may of course call me whatever you most prefer - I'm getting more acquainted with the use of my first name and have nearly grown to like the sound of it." Here, she laughs. In Kalvad, it would be quite a witty thing to say.

She goes as far as to offer her hand. "You're Nevarran, is that right? I feel I've finally begin to sort the difference between its accent and Antiva's."

[justashotaway]

Laura looks at Wysteria's hand, uncertain if not uncomprehending. She is aware that people touch hands as part of greetings, grasp them somehow...but how is more a mystery than she might have guessed before this moment.

So she chooses to ignore that particular question in favour of the one she's certain of the answer to. "I am not anything. But I was born in Nevarra."

People argue when she only says the first part, making the second necessary. "Where are you from?" Beyond the rifts, naturally.