Romain de Coucy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
toujoursdroit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
faderift2021-09-08 08:04 pm
toujoursdroit) wrote in faderift2021-09-08 08:04 pm
With money you squeezed from the peasants (open)
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.
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.
2 nerd it up
“I’ve always been good at names and faces, but add in these and a world of new social mores to learn and suddenly,” she makes a little one-handed whoosh gesture, “goodbye confidence.”
She moves to the seat, but is looking at the books on shelves as she does. “How’s your night going?”
marg like why are u so weird waverly!!
Margaery frowns for a second at the thought of cheese carved in the shape of babies.
"I'm enjoying myself immensely," she says graciously, noting Waverly's interest in the titles. "But I also know what you mean." She thinks she does, anyway.
"How are you finding it here, mademoiselle? Are there any particular difficulties that have plagued you?"
oh please like Westeros isn’t weirder
Straight up rifter to rifter honesty, or socially acceptable cheer? The latter, obviously.
“As good as you can in the circumstances.” Which at least doesn’t sound like a lie in the way so great! would. “Research is a way to keep busy and avoid silly mistakes.”
Lightly, as if this is all easy/breezy, “what’s the best hit of new-rifter advice you’d make to a new kid?”
what's so weird about being ruled by gold-haired tyrants hUH
"Sooner or later, the effects of being dropped in an entirely new world with no explanation will come," she says, taking obvious care in choosing her words. "And while you've acclimated admirably, please don't feel as though this is a constant appearance you need to maintain forever."
It goes unsaid, that it's the mistake she's made herself, but Margaery doesn't offer any explanation, choosing to push forward onto another topic instead. "Did you dance very much in your home world?"
I hope an FR character one day refers to Waves as a “golden-haired tyrant”
The kind I’m not good at taking, her tone suggests. Waverly huffs out a little laugh.
“Yeah. Optimism and blue-skies are just a… happier seeming armour, you know?” She shrugs, a little, smoothing the material over her thighs. Self-soothing, still.
The change of topic conjures up a genuine smile, though. “I did, actually. Well, probably not as dignified,” and though she says the word in a ridiculous way, it’s a playful self-roast rather than mockery of Margaery, “as what you’re used to. Or here’s used to, actually. I was head cheerleader in high school, actually. Dancing to whip spectators into a team supporting frenzy.”
she's gotta fight margaery for the throne first
"Was it seductive dancing?"
Because you know, that's the easiest way to whip spectators into a frenzy. Her expression is expectant; it's easy to see she's pleased with herself for having figured it all out so quickly.
"You must have been scantily dressed, on a higher platform of some kind? To ensure that you're safe from the hands of your admirers?"
DANCE OFF
Conspiratorially (playfully ridiculous, still), “People say it’s the short skirts, but I’m pretty sure it’s the hair flips that really get to ‘em.”
The questions get another soft breath of laughter. “Does it all sound very uncouth?”