With money you squeezed from the peasants (open)

[toujoursdroit]

WHO: Open to all Riftwatch agents who care to attend. Plus-ones allowed within reason.
WHAT: The duke de Coucy is throwing a celebration to mark his eldest grandson’s 18th birthday, which he would do anyway and which is definitely not a blatant attempt to keep said grandson from running off toward the nearest opportunity for combat.
WHEN: Mid-Kingsway
WHERE: The de Coucy property in Hightown. (The servants are spying in case you break anything.)
NOTES: If you’d like your character to come but think some maneuvering would be required to make it happen, hit me oocly and we’ll figure it out. Similarly, if you need or want a starter with Romain or an NPC, just let me know.

The engraved invitations only go to a select few: the division heads and project leaders, Alexandrie d'Asgard, Petrana de Cedoux and (after some deliberation) Hugo and Jehan Mercier d'Annecy. Others, without a specific addressee, are posted in common areas in the Gallows including both dining halls, the herb garden and the game room:



Those at ease enough or bold enough to take him up on the invitation arrive to find the duke’s Hightown residence lit with a mixture of opulent scones, torches and enchantments. Once admitted through the outer gates—the servants at the door have a list on which one’s name must appear, seemingly including every member of Riftwatch—guests will be ushered a short walk back from the street to the house proper. The foyer boasts more servants, ready to take any outwear (the weather does not dictate it, but fashion may), as well as any gifts for the marquis.

Guests are then shown through to the ballroom. While it is generally used these days as a training area, it has been converted back to its intended use for the evening. The space is brightly lit and features a small but talented collection of musicians. The center of the room is clearly intended for dancing, but chairs and railings along the edge of the room provide a place for those who need a breath or who simply prefer conversation to dancing. Staff circulates with wine and hors d'oeuvres (mainly local shellfish and assorted pastries from Romain’s imported Orlesian patissier). In addition to their fellow Riftwatch agents, guests may run into carefully selected individuals from Hightown society, gratified to varying degrees at having been included.



Those who find even the edges of the ballroom too much may discover that the lower level of the two-level library is open, though servants pass through with enough regularity that it is not truly private. (Assuming one thinks servants count, of course.) The upper level is roped off. Anyone attempting to make their way up will be gently but firmly redirected by the staff. The lower level, however, does offer a few tables and various comfortable chairs and chaises, good for quiet conversation or simply a break from the crush of society.

About two hours after sunset, dinner is announced. All present guests are shown into the dining room. Those few in attendance who have seen the duke’s estate in Orlais, or even his home in Val Royeaux, would know this room is smaller than either. Everyone is seated comfortably, but in addition to the long, rectangular table at the room’s center, a few smaller circular tables hold the overflow. The seating has been chosen carefully for status, affiliation and balance of conversation. The duke heads the long table, and his grandson Thomas sits opposite. Thomas, like his grandfather and younger brother, is masked, but those who chat with him will easily be able to determine his buoyant mood from his voice and manner. The food is excellent, if less varied and exotic than it would have been had supply lines not been so constrained. (Romain thought to bring a few things back from his most recent trip to Orlais and finds himself glad of it now.)



After dinner, guests may resume dancing and gossiping in the ballroom, or engaging in quieter conversation in the library. Or they can make their way out to the courtyard in the rear of the property. While Hightown’s constraints mean the outdoor space is not extensive, it is walled to offer privacy from the nearest neighbors and boasts a water feature, impressively lit in honor of the occasion.

The duke circulates throughout the party for the evening, seemingly doing absolutely nothing other than chatting with his guests. Yet somehow after he passes through, any guests with empty glasses find someone offering to fill them, any low-burning torches are promptly replaced, and any guests causing a scene are discreetly spoken to or, if necessary, shown into a carriage that will take them home. In addition to Romain, guests may have a chance to speak to the guest of honor, Thomas, or to his younger brother, 15-year-old Raoul, who has been given a special dispensation to stay at the party as long as he likes and is seemingly determined to make the most of it. The festivities will drag on until dawn, for those most committed to a bit of merriment in the face of invasion, or at least most committed to eating the duke’s refreshments and drinking his wine until they’re cut off.

Comments

[icasm]

"Oh come now. You'll feel very foolish if I were to perish on the spot because you've rejected my offer to dance."

Which is not going to happen, but this is a relationship based 90% on teasing, so he has to give her a little shit. "If I told you it's a variation on a waltz, would that mean anything to you?" He's presuming 'no' but she could always surprise him.

[armd]

"I'd laugh if you did that," Abby tells him, her eyes bright, thankful for the pause so that he can assess exactly how inexperienced she is before dragging her out into the public. She has to get her knocks in now, okay, he's the one who will be laughing five minutes from here.

Because:

"Nope. Don't know how to waltz, either." Loki you're working with somebody who doesn't know how to relax, let alone cut loose.

[icasm]

"Because you're terrible," he informs her, but he sounds pleased by it so don't take it the wrong way, Abby. He likes you.

"Alright, then we'll stay here." At the edges of the dancing, where there are fewer eyes on the two of them. "It's three basic steps. Step forward with the left foot. Then the right foot steps sideways to the right. Finally, you bring your left foot next to your right foot. Then you start it again, with the opposite side." He nods and holds out his arms for her to take. "Come on, you try."

[armd]

"I know," she replies, smug, happy that he set that up for her to fall into; she likes him right back.

But her confidence evaporates as he starts to demonstrate because she thought they might have gone out into the courtyard, or at least somewhere people wouldn't get to see her fucking it up– "Here?" She asks, her gaze flickering to her feet, to his, back up to his arms.

She doesn't... wanna... but he's watching her, and he doesn't look expectant. He just wants her to try. So Abby steps toward him mumbling, "... Forward left?" And completes the other two steps, her head down in-between them, concentrating on her feet.

[icasm]

"At least you know," he teases, no real heat in it.

He raises his eyebrows at her protest and is all ready to put his arms down and suggest they do something else instead, but she takes him up on it. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it? Here, look up," Loki instructs, tilting his chin upward, "and listen to the beat. One, two, three, one, two, three, step, separate, together, step, separate, together."

He helps her keep time by squeezing her hand in rhythm.

[armd]

Squeezing her hand is very helpful, actually. It takes a moment for her to get the steps down, and even then she jerks them out of time once or twice by stepping right instead of left for no apparent reason. She's thinking about it too hard.

But... it's fun.

Abby finds her rhythm a minute or so in, and lifts her chin as instructed, meeting his gaze with a fleeting, nervous grin. "I'm doing it!"

[icasm]

Loki grins in response to Abby's glee, continuing his patient squeezing even after she's clearly gotten the steps; to let go of it now seems like it would be foolish.

"You are! Congratulations. Now you're waltzing." He laughs a little. "Never say I didn't teach you anything, hm?"

[armd]

"Why would I say that? You've taught me lots of things," she counters, appreciative when he continues to squeeze her hand in time with the music, because it really does help.

"Like how to paint, for example."

[icasm]

"What else have I taught you?"

They continue dancing their little waltz squares here at the edge of the party.

"Don't be shy, I love to hear about myself." Things Abby probably is well aware of at this point in time.

[armd]

"You don't say."

She doesn't mind stoking his ego, and it's nice that even as her mind wanders she continues to keep the tempo. It's easy once you figure it out huh, kinda mindless, "How to dress for a party. ... How to get coin off of nice people to buy extra olive loaves at the marketplace with."

Last one's a bit cheeky-

[icasm]

Loki snorts softly. "I can't say that I blame you, actually, but it was not at all expected when you took the money I won for you and bought food, of all the things." He'd been annoyed about it in the moment but then once he took some time to think about it, decided that Abby must have come from a place where cooking for fun was uncommon. Plus, the sheer range of foods available to them was pretty substantial.

"But you do clean up nice."

[armd]

"It was really good food," she wheedles, ducking her head. It's still a novelty to have access to all this produce, not to mention all the things she's never tried before. Abby's becoming overly fond of savoury breads and large, overripe fruit that seems to be in no short supply. Why would she buy more clothes? She has clothes.

And now, these clothes, which are fancier than anything she's ever owned. At least she looks okay. Abby didn't glance at herself in anything reflective before arriving; if she didn't like the look of it, she would have talked herself out of going.

"Thanks. I'd say you do too, but you always look nice."

[icasm]

She has basic, leftover clothes that Loki isn't a hundred percent certain didn't belong to some poor soul before Riftwatch got its hands on it. If he had his way, he'd overhaul her entire wardrobe for the fun of it, but alas.

She likes the market more.

"Why thank you," he preens, because those first few weeks where he had nothing but what Riftwatch gave him were rough for his personal sense of style. "I do try. Nothing beats a good bespoke suit, but." Alas, his preferred style is not quite in tune with what Thedas is doing, fashion-wise.

[armd]

"You succeed," Abby informs him smoothly, unable to help grinning as he suns himself under the light of her compliment, "I bet you're popular this evening."

She's already noticed him around, talking to various groups of people, making them laugh. What a schmoozer.

[icasm]

"More or less." He still hasn't figured out why Alexandrie is avoiding him, but that's a task for dinner, certainly. "I've definitely had a full dance card, at least."

A slight shrug, but he smiles. It's nice — both the party and the fact that he's been able to be so sociable.

[armd]

"This is probably going to be my full dance card," she mutters, briefly pulling her hand out of his just to give the collar of her jacket a gentle tug, "This has been... a lot."

And she could stand to be looser than she currently is, she thinks, but she's already spotted Ellie earlier. She doesn't dare drink knowing she's about, truce be damned.

[icasm]

"Aw," Loki pouts, because Abby looks good (and that's partially his fault so he can preen about it) and it's a party for the love of the gods above and below. She should get a chance to catch a few eyes, dance a bit. But he's not going to shove her into it if she's not in the mood.

It's not that kind of party.

"Is it because you're not a party person, or...?" A raised eyebrow. He smells a story of some kind; please, indulge him.

[armd]

"Please," she replies, raising an eyebrow at him, "I'm a party person. That should be obvious."

Okay, the sarcasm could stand to be less thick. But she's genuinely appraising him, wondering if she should say anything-

But if she had to tell somebody, it would be him. So, "I– have an enemy, here." It sounds childish when she puts it like that, but it's the easiest way for her to explain Ellie without having to go into too much detail. Her gaze flickers from him to over his shoulder. At least she isn't in the room right now. Even so, Abby's muttering, "Makes it hard to relax."

Understatement.

[icasm]

"I had my guesses." Usually, Loki is good at spotting the partiers versus the wallflowers, and he wouldn't have exactly pinned Abby as one of the latter. Mostly because she had been willing to get very dressed up (within reason) for this party in the first place.

"From back home?" Or did Abby make an enemy in Riftwatch? The latter seems a lot less likely so he makes a noise in his throat. "Nevermind, unimportant. How bad of an enemy are we talking, here?" Is there a scale, Loki?

Well. There might be. He won't know until he asks.

[armd]

... You know what?

Fuck it.

"I murdered somebody important to her," Abby says, her tone light, almost casual, barely missing a step. The only indication of her mood would be the set of her jaw, and the way her hand briefly tightens up on his, "So she hunted me down, and killed my friends along the way."

A ten, on his scale? Out of ten. Though she doubts he needs a number from her now.

Ellie's isn't the only character she's assassinating here, but Abby doesn't care. If Loki knows, now, and from her, it means nobody can inform him later out of spite. Or it means that he'll cut and run while he still has the chance. That's the very least she could offer him, after he's been so kind.

[icasm]

He does notice the way her jaw tightens, the feel of her fingers flexing against his. He wonders why she did it, why she killed this person, but isn't going to ask now; in her position, he'd bristle hard at that kind of question after sharing something so honestly.

So. He nods, still keeping time, still dancing.

"How much of a threat is she to you now?"

[armd]

Abby doesn't look at him. She's only just realising that if he were to look critical of her in any way, she'd find it upsetting.

"Not sure." This is the most honest she's been with anybody in a while.

"Told her I'd keep to my shit if she kept to hers, but..." I don't trust her. She doesn't have to say that out loud.

[icasm]

He wonders about that, the not looking at him part. What it means. They keep dancing in their little space, he keeps encouraging her to keep time, and it'll be fine though.

If she does glance in his direction, Abby will find that his expression holds no judgment, no criticisms. He's just trying to get as much information on the situation as he can.

"But the bad blood is already spilled, so there's no unspilling it." He swallows, nods. "If it helps at all, I once tried to take over an entire planet, and one of the people who stopped me was the Provost. Understandably, he doesn't trust me as far as he can throw me, which I'm guessing isn't very far these days."

[armd]

Okay, this response is unexpected. Abby's attention finally springs back to him, and she looks both bewildered, and a little... relieved. That he presents this point as if it's merely a piece of juicy gossip eases her stance, softens her expression. She wants to ask questions, but he didn't of her, so she holds them.

"... It does help," she says, after a beat, and relaxes back into the repetitive movement of the dance.

"Thanks."

She's grateful that he proved himself of being somebody she could tell this to.

[icasm]

Loki gives her a small smile. He's the last person to tell someone that despite their behavior in the past they're a good person now, and he expects that Abby would not appreciate hearing that in the first place. Her 'goodness' isn't really in question, here.

This is a matter of nemeses, and trust, and Loki still trusts Abby.

"You're welcome."

The song begins to wind down and Loki nods. "Do you want to keep dancing or should I leave it to the one tune?"