OPEN - Rooks, Pawns, Bishops and Knights

[madame_de_fer]

WHO: Vivienne and OPEN
WHAT: Catchall post for Madame de Fer to get to know the players great and small in the Inquisition.
WHEN: Wintermarch, all month
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: There's a specific bit for the Council members, but the remainder is open to everyone. Anyone who's been wanting CR with Viv, feel free to assume your character got one of the vaunted invites and tag in!

For the Council
Early in Wintermarch, all members of the Council receive a gilded paper invitation. No impersonal sending crystal for this message. The contents invite all the Councilors to join Madame de Fer at the hot spring for a day of relaxation and massage. To her mind, this is no frivolous social gathering meant to impress or irritate the others. (Though if either of those become true, that is useful as well.) There needs to be a dialogue enough amongst them that they do not dither away precious time and resources having to renegotiate their relationships upon meeting. That and none of them are any use to the Inquisition if they are tired, weary, and not well taken care of.

Some of her most comfortable chairs and lounging couches have been brought to the hot spring, and tables set with with a full tea service, both sweet and savory, and a few bottles of champagne. There's even imported Antivan cheese wheels, for the eyes, not for snacking. She is determined not to be caught out letting any of the others languish behind in attending to the important business of self-care. Anyone who brings up anything of a political or divisive nature, however, will find that they are most unwelcome. Relaxation and learning more is the point, not to posture and jockey. Not today.


For the Advisors and Companions
All the advisors and previous companions of the Herald likewise receive Spa Day invitations, albeit the day after the Council. Thank the Maker Sera is not around to make a mockery of such generosity. Knowing that Cullen is most likely to be the most stubborn about leaving that musty office of his, Vivienne plans to drag him along by the ear like an errant child if he dawdles too long in arriving.


Open to All, All Month
Before everyone can scatter to the four winds on business following the start of the new year, Vivienne sets out to some business of her own. She needs to know as much as she can about anyone within the Inquisition who might be a considerable piece in the Game, whether they are aware of such or not. Invitations to join her at her balcony begin to go out to anyone of interest: mages, templars, second sons of minor nobles, people from out of the rifts. For those whose invitation falls in the mid-afternoon, it is to join her for tea. Others receive invites for drinks, well after the dinner hour, but clearly with the intent of having uninterrupted time for getting to know the other better. As much as anyone is allowed to learn more about the Iron Lady.

Comments

[mythalenaste]

"Shoes're 'spensive. Calluses're free." She sinks deeper into the water with a bit of a moan. "And nobody can see how pretty my feet are now if I put shoes on them. Shem problems."

[fleurdesel]

"Sandals, Pel. Something with delicate straps and thin soles- maybe some embossing on the leather." Branches like the markings on her face; but Adelaide isn't sure if suggesting it is some manner of offensive.

[mythalenaste]

"Ohhh." Her eyes light in understanding. "Maybe beads. Something tasteful, but with just a bit of sparkle."

She's a little more awake now, so the slurring stops. Her foot goes back down in the water.

"Want me to braid your hair?"

[fleurdesel]

"Carved wood or polished stone- maybe glass if they didn't dangle too much." No cracking together. Adelaide extends her hands to the specialist- no she won't take a full body massage but her wrists to her fingertips and a manicure? That she can accept. Now and then a knot of tension has her frowning- and the girl has been wise enough to slow until the moment passes. "You would have to comb it out- I, at currant, cannot. But if you do not mind that, it would be lovely, Pel."

The damp from her soak earlier had her unwind the braid and simply pin her hair on top of her head; the fine strands and twists of it uncurling in this steam and heat- leaving what is normally long enough to brush her thighs a few inches longer still for the lack of it's proper wave.

[mythalenaste]

Pel is incredibly gentle with the delicate work of natural art before her, like she is handling antique Nevarran lace. She uses some of the oil the masseurs are using, and doesn't hurry. When at last every strand is running in the same direction, she begins braiding it in sections.

"Your hair is so beautiful. I always wanted mine to be a color like this."

[fleurdesel]

"My lone vanity." She offers with a faint smile, still as to not disturb the combing nor the braiding. "My entire family is blonde to some degree or another; I think Angeline, Cateline, and Violette dye theirs red- or so they have written is the fashion. I am content with this."

Long as it is maintaining anything but it's natural color would be tedious at best. "Your hair is lovely, Pel. I have only ever seen one other person that had hair that shade where it didn't come from age- and I am fairly certain they cheated to obtain it."

[mythalenaste]

"Really?" She keeps working. "My mother's hair is white. Like the goddess Ghilan'nain. My cousin Cyril has white hair too, he's in the Inquisition. But I got grey. I didn't know people dyed their hair grey on purpose. Where were you at the time?"

[fleurdesel]

"Val Royeaux; apparently she was attempting to start a new fashion; the color wasn't near so clear as yours. Given that it was about two years ago I am willing to put coin on it being fashionable now." When, not if, the Inquisition dispatches to Val Royeaux, Pel will be quite popular.

[mythalenaste]

"It's so strange, thinking about fashion. It means having enough of a variety to select from that you can be particular about what you wear and how long you wear it. Did they have such things in the Circle?"

[fleurdesel]

"Some did, some didn't. Some put a great deal of weight on it- some didn't. Those that tended to remain of the opinion that appearances and coin matter than practical skill had a rude awakening when they came into my tutelage. All my best students loathed me until they had another instructor." That is how she always knew she was doing it right.

[mythalenaste]

"I would expect nothing less from you," Pel says with pride. "Well, now we've all seen each other naked, it'll make it harder to care which of us is fashionable."

[fleurdesel]

"I am told I have impossible standards." Of herself and others- it keeps things interesting. "Freckles are terribly fashionable, so in this? I think you come out on top. Unless there is truth to the adage about men finding scars attractive."

[mythalenaste]

"I come out on top, do I?"

[fleurdesel]

"I have no freckles to speak of." Adelaide does turn, then, lips curled in an easy smile. "And you've many."

[mythalenaste]

"It'll be a bad day for me when freckles are out of fashion again."

[fleurdesel]

"You have about three years to enjoy it, I should think."

[mythalenaste]

"What about someone like you? You're always in fashion, don't lie to me."

[fleurdesel]

"Someone that scowls more than smiles and is too busy working to bother with sitting prettily and playing nice?" She snorts a soft laugh. "What attractions I had in the spire came more of my intellectual discourse than my appearance."

[mythalenaste]

"Pfft." Pel slides a hairpin into place. "Glorious golden hair, legs that go on for miles, and you are brilliant and insightful? Poised, confident, and beautiful. You have everything."

[fleurdesel]

The smirk smooths out into what appears to be genuine confusion. Then, in a perfect deadpan. "...Pel I'm flattered but I don't date women."

She's able to hold it for about five seconds before she snorts softly. "When you put it that way, well...I suppose that might be why I'm getting these letters."

[mythalenaste]

Pel breaks just about at the same Adelaide does, giggling (with hairpin well away from scalp to avoid unnecessary jostling and pain).

"Oh? Letters?" In goes the pin.

[fleurdesel]

"Baron Jean Bonnot visited Skyhold recently to asses whether or not to offer his support, I imagine. We spoke a few times- I don't recall much of the conversation other than 'we need more funds to tend to the ill' and pointing out a lack of some vital herbs for non-magical medicine. He left and I started receiving love letters." It's terribly bizarre- she's never been in this position before.