[open + closed]

[thereneverwas]

WHO: Barrow, Benedict, Brother Gideon, Bfifi, Bmado, you??
WHAT: June catch-all
WHEN: Justinianish
WHERE: around and about the Gallows
NOTES: Individual character starters below, hit me up if you want something specific.

Comments

Fifi

[untiltheyarent]

I. Closed to Basterlex

Thanks to Bastien, Byerly and Alexandrie (and himself, of course) have received a little slip of parchment which reads:

You are cordially invited to a small gathering hosted by Madame Mariette in honor of her birthday.

The details point the guests to a hole-in-the-wall Lowtown cabaret, known for its music and dancing, and upon arrival, they will find a table held for them.
But Fifi isn't there. She still has not appeared to sit with them when the curtain is drawn, the crowd hushing for the imminent performance.

II.

It's a warm, gloomy night in Lowtown, and the usual weekend revelry is in full effect. But as someone identifiably Riftwatch rounds the corner onto a quieter street, they are quickly accosted by a short elven woman in the clothing of a servant, who loops her arm into theirs with a flirtatious ease that only barely masks the tension in her thin fingers.
"Cherie," Fifi whispers to you, her eyes darting back behind her at the large and imposing shadow that pauses, previously trailing her, uncertain whether or not to proceed.

III. Wildcard

i

[cozen]

"Standing us up," Bastien says, in Orlesian and in hushed tones appropriate for the hushed room, "on her birthday."

There's a part of him that suspects the fun kind of subterfuge. It is Fifi. But there are also parts of him that suspect an unforeseen maid emergency in the Gallows, a wandering ferryman leaving her stranded, accusations of theft by someone who lost their purse in the market and picked out the first elf they saw to blame, a twisted ankle, some sort of miscommunication that caused him to get the time or the place wrong despite asking for both twice, kidnapping—

He's sensitive, possibly, about the safety of his favorite elven women, with the way Athessa has fallen silent in Val Royeaux.

But at least catastrophizing—and pretending to be doing no such thing—is distracting him from feeling awkward about being here with Byerly and Alexandrie. He has wine; he's barely touched it. He still drags the unattended glass meant for Fifi (and probably paid for by someone other than him) to sit next to his own.

"Dibs."

[bouchonne]

"I think her birthday is the best time to stand us up," says Byerly. "It's like a present to herself. Knowing she's leaving us here, stewing, thinking about nothing but her? Maker, I love standing people up." He presses a hand to his chest. "There's no better way to make someone obsessed with you."

He waves a hand, allowing Bastien's dibs (though since these two dreadful, horrible men allowed the lady to buy the first round, it really is Alexandrie's call).

[coquettish_trees]

The aforementioned generous lady is frowning theatrically as she reaches to gently tap Bastien's hand with the tip of her fan in a motion cleverly exaggerated such that an onlooker might think she'd thwapped him.

"You cannot dibs Fifi's wine," she whispers loudly into the lulling sound of the crowd. "She will believe I did not think to provide her a glass!"

After a pause, into the near silence presumably just before the performer steps out, she finishes with a wildly scandalized exhortation: "On her birthday!"

[untiltheyarent]

The lights dim, the music starts up, and a master of ceremonies emerges to begin the show. He introduces himself, the musicians, and now, with a grand gesture, the moment everyone has been waiting for: the girls, with a dance certain to drop jaws and tighten trousers, all the way from Val Royeaux!

The kickline enters, colorful ruffled skirts swirling in perfect unison. They cross the stage in a line, then converge, weaving in and out of one another, a red-painted smile on every half-masked face. The crowd, comprised of regulars and newcomers alike, is losing its mind.

To the astute eye, the elf danceuse in emerald green has a familiar frame, her sausage-curled russet hair bouncing joyfully (as the rest of her is a bit too thin to do so) as she sweeps to the center for her brief introductory solo and performs an energetic triple pirouette in two-inch heels.
The air is electric, her grin contagious as she prances to the side and makes way for the next soloist.

[cozen]

"She will not think anything if she does not come," Bastien whispers loudly back in defense of his claim, despite the man introducing the act. "If she comes before I start drinking it, then she can have it back and I will tell her I am a thief, but if—"

This is where the fellow says Val Royeaux and thus actually manages to capture Bastien's attention. He may be immune to jaw-dropping and trouser-tightening, but he's a sucker for his city. (Yes, his.) Still, his interest stays mild until he recognizes Fifi—by her spinning ankles first, then by her hair and her chin—and it turns rapt and grinning instead.

[coquettish_trees]

Alexandrie's interest is far less quiet, the intent to continue quarrelling over the wine evaporating the moment the emerald green dress catches her eye over Bastien's shoulder and is immediately confirmed to be the unmistakable presence of La Vulpesse. She nearly chokes on her own gasp of delight as it changes direction and turns into an impressive shriek of delight halfway through.

The sound will, perhaps, be as recognizable to Fifi as Fifi was to Alexandrie.

She quickly checks on the two men. Bastien is grinning in earnest: he knows. Her head whips around to see whether or not the same might be said for Byerly.

[bouchonne]

At first, By doesn't understand. But then Alexandrie shrieks, and it takes a moment, another, and then -

Ah, yes. Now he recognizes those shapely legs. And he laughs aloud.

"It seems," he says, just loud enough to be heard over the lively music, "we'll owe her rather more than a common glass of wine after this."

it's britney bitch

[untiltheyarent]

The opening number concludes, giving way to a pantomime act, which gives way to a (mediocre) comedian, and so forth. The dancing girls rotate in and out of various acts, always in a different costume to better complement the main focus; sometimes they're Orlesian comtesses, sometimes they're scantily-clad Qunari with wooden horns-- and Fifi, in her second appearance, ironically becomes part of a glittering rift, waving about bright green scarves as set dressing for a slapstick comedy trio capering on the topic of, naturally, Riftwatch. (It's all in good fun.)

She disappears again for several more acts, but when she reappears again it's to shimmering violins, her white, knee-length dress and mask adorned with crane feathers, her feet in pointe shoes. The routine she performs is balletic and graceful, titillating in its way (they're at a cabaret, after all) but clearly choreographed to showcase technique rather than physical assets.

When she scurries offstage again, the lights come back up and the chatter in the audience returns as well. The performers slip out from behind the curtain to mingle with the guests, which brings Fifi, still in her white ballerina attire, at last to her table of VIPs.

She curtsies to them in greeting before stepping forward to pluck up the wine glass set aside for her.

[cozen]

The untouched wine glass, important to note, since she appeared in time to stop Bastien from taking a defiant sip. And sometime during that lull between her performances, he'd slipped away from the table and come back with a little bouquet. It's a fourth of a much larger bouquet, actually, being clutched elsewhere in the audience by a young man with stars in his eyes over some other member of the chorus. He was distracted and lovesick enough that Bastien probably could have plucked flowers out of the arrangement right in front of him without asking and not been stopped.

He did ask, though. No one is going to come looking for stolen flowers. The little bouquet needed rearrangement and something to tie it—a group project—and now it waits on the table.

"You are magnificent," Bastien says, standing for her, "and so sneaky."

[coquettish_trees]

Alexandrie has a great love of flower arranging, but a greater desire to see what Byerly's hand at it looked like and so had pushed that particular task delightedly on him whilst producing and deftly rolling one of her delicate handkerchiefs to tie it together once he'd finished.

She's reaching to fuss at the way the bow flares for the fifth time when Bastien gets to his feet, and the task is immediately abandoned to join him with such alacrity that the movement of her chair is undignifiedly audible even over the noise of the room as she turns to greet Fifi with a look of joyful abandon.

"Brava, Vulpesse! Magnifique!"

[bouchonne]

No great shock: Byerly's flower arrangement is altogether gorgeous, because he so often shows a talent for things when it seems to him that showing that talent is worth his while. Stunning ability, grace, and glorious sneakiness are all things that merit his appreciation, and this evening, Fifi has shown all three.

He doesn't get up, or say anything - but he does present the flowers to her with his eyebrows raised in a clear expression of well done, I'm damned impressed.

[untiltheyarent]

"Merci," Fifi murmurs with a smile almost too shy to be on the person who just flashed her thighs to a crowded room, but her eyes are sparkling with delight as she accepts the bouquet and draws it to her nose.
Breathing in the scent of the flowers, she sinks down into the chair that was always meant for her, legs folded on one side of it, and rests the bouquet atop the table so she can take another sip of wine.

"I'm glad you came," she offers, seeming rather tongue-tied; her face is covered in powder and rouge, but somehow she still manages to blush through it.
"It's nice to have someone in the audience."

[cozen]

“We would have been here sooner,” Bastien says, confident he can speak for all of them in this, “if we had known.”

He sits again, then gives Alexandrie a cheerfully suspicious look.

“Unless you knew.”

II, I just couldn't resist

[muckspout]

Edgard instinctively flinches away and gives her a stern look. Then his eyes trail behind them. It is not subtle and quickly realizes his mistake.

He opens his arms wide and gasps, bringing her close.

"Ma chérie, c'est toi! Je ne t'ai pas reconnu dans le noir!"

He tightens his arm around her and drags her along around a corner.

[untiltheyarent]

Fifi's eyes are pleading when Edgard pulls away, but that glimmer in them quickly turns to one of fear when he seizes her. Suddenly as afraid of her savior as she is of her pursuer, her first instinct apart from an initial shriek of alarm is to aim a kick at Edgard's shins while attempting to wrest herself out of his grip.

[muckspout]

Edgard shrieks back and quickly lets go of Fifi holding his arms up in surrender. He steps back, his shin throbbing.

"I'm sorry!" He whisper screams in Orlesian. "I thought that was what you wanted!"

[untiltheyarent]

"For you to stand with me!" Fifi Orlesian-whisper-screams back, her face pale and her guard clearly still raised, "why would you grab me like that, are you stupid?!"

[muckspout]

Edgard shakes his arms at the air and then gestures at his head.

"I guess I am! You called me a pet name! I was trying to sell it. You seemed like you were in trouble!"

He takes a few steps back, his arms lowering.

"Didn't mean you any harm."

[untiltheyarent]

Her heart still racing, Fifi is tempted to lash out again, but the form of her pursuer pauses, considers, and turns away. The danger is averted, at least for now.

Instead, she takes a deep breath and attempts to collect herself, which only results in a hitching gasp as she ducks her head to shield her tears from Edgard. It's all been the reaction of a frightened animal, and though she recognizes that he'd meant to help, the logic of the situation can't override her adrenaline.

[muckspout]

Edgard sees her tears and his face flushes in shame. He looks down to the ground. Useless Edgard.

"I made this worse. I'm sorry. I can go--"

He turns to leave and as he's walking away he feels even worse just leaving her there. So, he turns back, arms raised again indicating he means no harm.

"Are you alright?"

[untiltheyarent]

Still trying to calm herself down, Fifi nods resolutely, even forcing on a smile to assuage Edgard's worries. She recognizes his voice, and the sight of him, and knows him to be more bark than bite even when he does intend harm.

"Just... frightened," she breathes, glancing past him and finding reassurance in her pursuer's absence. "That hasn't happened to me in a while. I'm sorry for kicking you, Messere."

[muckspout]

Edgard offers her a small smile.

"Been kicked a lot harder by people a lot bigger. Only surprised me."

He hesitates awkwardly and then shrugs and asks.

"Who were you running from? Need someone to kick him?" Edgard slowly moves his right foot to indicate that he would be that someone.

[untiltheyarent]

She shakes her head, waving him off, even if the offer is tempting.

"I don't know. The sort of man that lurks in every club, waiting for a woman to leave by herself. They all look the same in the dark."

She glances around the corner again, just to be sure.

"I'd rather not seek him out. But if you'd walk me to the ferry, Messere, I will be in your debt."

[muckspout]

Edgard's face darkens a little at her looking around the corner.

"Happy to walk you. No debt needed."

He waits for her to walk as he is still unsure how close or not close he should get to her.

"There's a lot of scumbags." He grumps.