closed.

[heorte]

WHO: ellis and wysteria, with very special guest, fitz
WHAT: hiding from a party
WHEN: cloudreach
WHERE: a secluded estate in ostwick
NOTES: this is literally just hijinks.

The coat closet is of a comfortable size, large enough for several people to retrieve their garments comfortably at the end of a gathering. It is not, however, equipped to house two individuals for a long period of time, which is why Ellis is still leaning against the door frame with one hand resting on the handle. There's no lock, but so far they've been left undisturbed.

In the lull following a long recitation of Wysteria's opinions on balls in general, Ellis venture, "We should try to check on Fitz."

Who is not present in the coat closet, and presumably somewhere out in the main hall. There's no specific danger, other than the menance of small talk and overly familiar nobility. He'd thought Fitz would have been on his heels, and yet—

"You're sure no one's expecting an actual engagement to be brokered here tonight?"

Considering how wrong they'd gotten the rest of the mission, it's probably good to make sure they aren't accidentally bartering Fitz away to their host's third daughter.

Comments

[heorte]

At the prospect of his own ability to gather an audience, Ellis shoots her a sharp look. But he lets it pass without comment, drawing in a deep breath before levering himself down to the floor. He leans back against the door, which will certainly be a regrettable position to be in if someone where to try and burst in.

"I'll wait. Maybe my chances of success will be higher if more of them are occupied with dancing. Or whatever it is that happens in the room with the vaulted ceilings."

Fitz may or may not be finding out as they speak.

"Did you find any people willing to throw money at your project without asking too many questions?"

[heirring]

"None thus far. But not to worry, this is all part of my strategy," she says, flouncing down to take her seat among the piled velvets and furs.

The aforementioned bottle is produced from wherever she'd tucked it. "I trust you have a knife to handle that cork, Mr. Ellis," she says, surrendering it to him.

"—In any case, the plan is to have made my acquaintances and introductions and so on and for forth this evening. Tomorrow, quite early in the morning, I will rise from our rooms at our host's house and go calling upon a selection of guests. Ideally this will occur prior to their morning tea or coffee or what have you - the hour in which they will be most unprepared to receive a guest, and the most willing to agree to anything to be rid of her."

[heorte]

A smile spreads slowly across Ellis' face as he works the cork free. (Yes, he has a knife on him. Yes, he's happy to use it to manage the delicate business of getting the cork out of the bottle without breaking it and consequently have to either swallow bits of cork with every sip or try to discreetly spit the fragments out.) These moments when Wysteria tips her hand just a little to show a keen grasp of strategy are turning out to be some of Ellis' favorite to witness. If she were ever inspired to apply that skill more broadly, she could probably manage a fairly effective ground campaign. There's a soft pop before he lays knife and cork aside and offers the bottle back to her.

"You should bring pastry if you're planning on that."

Though as far as sneak attacks go, Ellis figures it's effective.

"Will you need me and Fitz to come with you?"

Even as he offers this, it occurs to Ellis that Fitz is probably more useful in the room with her than he would be. Fitz might not know all the details, but at least Fitz can keep up with Wysteria and Tony when it coems to innovation. But they have some time to consider the most effective approach.

[heirring]

She reaches back across the piled swirl of her skirts - all layers of bird's egg blue and pale cream, some flash of dandelion yellow under layer - and accepts the bottle.

"I suppose that will depend on what connections Mr. Fitz does or doesn't make this evening. Half the play is to be just a little aggravating - much as it doesn't comes naturally to any of us - and too much familiarity might undercut that. But there is something to be said about the overwhelming force of numbers."

With one hand at its neck and the other at the base, Wysterja takes a modest swig from the bottle. The look of contemplation might be for the question of strategy, or it might be for the wine. She takes a second drink - shrugs.

"We will have to compare notes once we're things draw to a close tonight. Here. It seems rather heavy on the currant, but that might be the peppermint."

The bottle is offered back.

[heorte]

"We can make a list," Ellis agrees, leaning forward to claim the bottle. A pair of footsteps pass behind the door, accompanied by giggling. He braces for the door to be opened directly into him, but the giggles pass on, growing muffled as they recede further down the hall.

If anyone had an inkling of what kind of party this was supposed to be, they hadn't told Ellis. He'd been bracing for an evening of nodding in all the right places between Fitz and Wysteria's discussion of Rifter innovation. Now he's sitting in a closet.

"You aren't disappointed to miss out on the dancing?" he says after a moment, for lack of anything else to contribute. Ellis had pulled out his uniform and the deep blue and bright silver of the Wardens had drawn more than one sideways look. Maybe it's for the best he's sat out of the way, rather than trying to politely square with morbid curiosity. "

[heirring]

Now there is a good question.

"Oh. Yes, actually." She brightens at the mere subject. "At home, I would have very much liked to do the dancing bit of this evening. But here, it's a little like trapping yourself with someone who's either half terrified of you but was dared to do it, or who wants to engage you in a theological debate, or has some kind of oddly specific interest in the arcane."

The raises her left hand, the sickly glow of the rift visible there through the thin fabric despite the darkness of its dye.

"Which seems ridiculous, by the way. There are people who are not Rifters which have them, but I find the assumption is fairly automatic once we get far enough from Kirkwall. Being interrogated takes some of the fun out of the thing.

"But oh! You missed the loveliest time two Satinalia's ago, Mr. Ellis. There was a party put on in the Gallows courtyard, and Byerly Rutyer dressed as Corypheus with no shirt, and there was all kinds of the very best dancing then. I hope this year we can do something like it again. Not that the business in Nevarra City wasn't important, of course."

[heorte]

There's a trick to drinking without actually drinking. Ellis has mastered the art of swigging slowly, tipping a bottle just so. He doesn't think Wysteria would care, but the companionable action of passing the bottle back and forth isn't something he wants to mar.

"I'd dance with you, if you'd like to venture out of this closet," he offers, to avoid telling her he'd rather preferred being plunged into a complete disaster of a battle in Nevarra than try to navigate what sounds like a costume party. "So would Fitz."

Without consulting Fitz, though Ellis can't imagine he'd object to being volunteered.

"You can hold onto that offer until this year's Satinalia."

[heirring]

"It is an exceedingly kind one to make, Mister Ellis, but if it is all the same to you I'd much rather hold on to it until then rather than take you up on it this evening. If I'm to be stuck dancing with friends for the whole evening, I would much rather it be done among a whole party of them than among a room otherwise quite full of strangers. The former seems a great show of familiarity and camaraderie and general good spirits. The latter is-- well, a bit sad. Besides," she says, leaning forward to fetch back the bottle once he's allegedly taken his swig from it. "We've gone to all this trouble of hiding out already. It would be a shame to waste it and have to find ourselves a second hideaway. The last time I passed the time inside a closet, it wasn't half so roomy as this one. Why look, I might even extend my leg all the way out without disturbing you."

She demonstrates accordingly, and can indeed straighten her leg along the line of hanging velvet cloaks and fine leather coats and so on.