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]

Well, at least Cole got there; Loki would hate to have to reiterate aloud that he doesn't want his memory tampered with under any circumstances. "Good." Now that the glass of water is done, Loki plucks it from the grass and places it on the tray before he carefully hands over a half-full, somewhat sweetened cup of mint tea to Cole. "Be careful, it's still a little hot."

Loki doesn't know how he feels about this conversation. About the implications therein, that this boy was a spirit once, and is now... something in-between, clearly neither fully one nor the other, as spirits can't get drunk as far as Loki knows, and mere boys can't erase the memories of others. Perhaps a mage could, but. He's not sure Cole is a mage.

"And who helps you?" Who is minding this boy, is what Loki wants to know?

It's not strictly necessary, he's sure, and has no doubts that Cole could surprise him in any number of ways, but it's still. Important, somehow.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

The momentary shift to sadness that Cole felt is interrupted by the offering of tea - and as carefully as he can given his current state, he takes the cup in his thin, roughened hands.

He sips, watching Loki curiously, trying to make sense of the emerald snake and the green sparks of light and the warm hand on cold and th-

The question strikes him, and he blinks.

"...Well," he mumbles, considering the question. "There're...a few peopl' who're teachin' me 'bout Rif'watch? 'Sat what you mean?"

[icasm]

Hm. "Not exactly." But still, he shrugs a little under Cole's inebriated scrutiny. "Mostly I'm concerned about how you'll get home, wherever that is, tonight. I assume you sleep in the Gallows?"

Loki gestures towards the tea with his chin. "Drink up."

Presuming that Cole sleeps, actually, but. If someone can get drunk, they can probably dream.

[helpinghidinghaunting]

Still more than a little confused, Cole sips at the tea, then gulps a little at it when he deems the temperature acceptable. (At least he knows better than to burn his tongue.) He thinks about Loki's question for a minute longer than he should ordinarily need to before finally stumbling slowly through slurred speech -

"I dun'...sleep, much," it's a muddy mumble, accompanied by bleary blinks. "But I stay'ther', mmhmm."

[icasm]

Loki makes a non-commital hum, deciding that he's done enough goodwill outreach for this evening, thanks. Someone else can pick up the mantle of figuring out how to get a drunk spirit home to the Gallows, it is officially Not His Problem now.

He got the boy moderately sober. Surely that is his good deed for the night.

Still: "Are you going to be safe getting back there tonight?"

[helpinghidinghaunting]

Right now, the spirit is a bit too addled to fully appreciate what has just been done for him - this experience is wholly new, after all, and too much made his mind muddled and muzzy.

Perhaps later he will recall this, and will find a way to repay Loki in turn. For now, he just smiles a wobbly little smile.

"I'll be f'ne. An' so'll you, on your journey. We'll both b' fine!"

He means well.