Open: Party Preparations

[madame_de_fer]

WHO: Josephine, Vivienne, OPEN
WHAT: Preparing the Inquisition for the Soiree
WHEN: 15 Guardian to 14 Drakonis (about a month's span before the event)
WHERE: Skyhold, varies
NOTES: * Josephine is the hostess of the shindig. Matters regarding invitations, guest lists, admittance, entertainment, food, or general complaints/suggestions should be directed to her.
* Vivienne has personally invited three tailors from Val Royeaux to assist with clothes making for the attendees. She is available to assist with design selections and/or advice on how to behave.
* YOU are open and invited to grab your nearest and dearest CR to complain about the party, ask for a date to he event, complain you have nothing to wear.
* Belinda Darrow has donated from her own private purse to the cost of clothing which people could otherwise not afford.

The Orlesian tailors arrived in great state, bringing with them a cadre of servants, workers, and snotty attitudes. They hate everything. It is cold in Skyhold. It is damp. Everything smells of wet dog. The working conditions are abysmal. The food is criminal. There's not a damned thing they don't complain about, except for the piles of coin they stand to make from this soiree. Yes, they are more than content to build a fortune with exclusive work that will be seen by some of the aristocracy's finest.

Harritt apparently doesn't much like them either. They've taken over his Undercroft with their fabrics and threads, designs and opinions. Oh they have opinions. He stays to one corner, attending his work, and grumbling under his breath about the poncy cheesesniffers.

Comments

[unbrokenoath]

Kaisa is about as apt at soirees as a drunk bear, but she's a good enough sport to take the preparations in stride. She stands obediently as the servants of the tailors dart around her like birds with measuring tapes, gathering her measurements. When one of the tailors makes a snide comment about how they don't usually make dresses for women who are quite so...muscular, she just grins, and looms over the smaller man. A whisper to him that she can show him just how she can use her muscles, and the tailor backs off, unsure if he had just been threatened or propositioned. Either is mortifying enough that he keeps his comments on her physique to himself.

But nothing could keep him from commentary on her suggestions for her outfit for the ballroom, and anyone nearby can hear him loudly protesting what, from the sounds of it, appears to be an attempt to surpass even Morrigan's amount of skin shown for her dress.

"I will not have it! I will not create a dress to make someone look like some wanton trollop!"

"What if I am a wanton trollop? I don't want to be accused of false advertisement."

Kaisa isn't sure what's her part: The horrified gasp of the tailor, the color his face turns, or the way that the servant trying to measure her inseam tries to stifle her giggles.