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

OTA - One thread for Vivienne and 'fire dress'

[the_effect_she_has]

There is only one reason, and one reason alone, that Katniss is down here in the undercroft that has nothing to do with weaponry. That is 'funding'. Josephine agreed to her trying to raise funds on her own at the party, considering that it is one less thing that the Inquisition currently has to pay for. For that, she'd need to go to the party (not a problem as Cullen's invitation had been flatteringly quick), and she'd need a gown.

The rest she'd leave to her passion for her cause, and Wicked's quick wits and clever tongue. She wished he was here now, because her temper's already getting the better of her.

"I swear to the Maker, the Creators, and all of Andraste's golden hairs, if you grab my ass one more time and make some snide comment in your fancy cheesemonger language, I am going to make the new Orlesian fashion black eyes and missing teeth." She snarls at one of the tailors, "I'm paying you, not the other way around -- and yes, guess what? In any tongue I can understand lewdness."

[demonicbeauty]

Watching people try on beautiful dresses was as exciting for Ariadne as watching a play. She loved the transformations, both of the fabric into gorgeous gowns and of the people who wore them. It was a special kind of energy, one that she rarely got to enjoy.

She'd tucked herself neatly into a corner, trying to stay out of the tailors' way and to avoid attention as much as possible.

But then she heard a familiar voice with a very familiar attitude.

"Katniss?"

Ariadne popped up from her nook, following the sound.

[the_effect_she_has]

"Seriously. Touch me again and you'll be sewing with a hook hand." Katniss growled, tugging the heft of fabric out of the spluttering Orlesian's hand. She looked up, then grimaced slightly. Well, now she was in for it.

Little sister was coming and little sister was always ... well. Nice. Just like her other little sister, come to think of it.

"Ah. Airy. I was - er - just getting my gown. For the ball ... masque ...soiree thing." She immediately went for another topic, "Are you?"

[demonicbeauty]

It didn't take a lot of investigating or listening to Katniss' pulse to know that there was a lot more going on. And plenty of it irritation. Which was no great surprise. Katniss didn't seem like the type to enjoy silks and brocades.

Politely, she kept that to herself.

"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head, the rope of a braid slipping over her left shoulder. "I can't afford a dress. And anyway, as I understand it, you're supposed to be invited to this sort of...thing."

[the_effect_she_has]

Of course there was a great deal more irritation. Mostly because there was a great deal more ridiculousness surrounding her. UGH, Orlesians. She sighed as the tailor, more subdued with an audience, thank the Creators, got back to work.

She frowned for a moment, her lips pressing together. Well that was just silly. "I can buy you a dress. And ... you're a Rifter. You're automatically important enough."

[demonicbeauty]

"I'm sure that money could be better spent," Ariadne replied.

But there was no denying it, a large part of Ariadne wanted to go to the party. She'd never been to a ball before. And the idea of wearing a pretty dress and seeing all the beautiful people swirling around like autumn leaves was...tempting.

She moved closer to watch the tailor working, flashing a bright smile. Ariadne knew she was irresistible, and she hoped that she could leverage that ability to get the tailor to be a little more pleasant.

Anything to cheer Katniss up.

"Has Cullen invited you?"

[the_effect_she_has]

She rolled her eyes a little, "Well of course it is -- but honestly you could use a nicer dress and I have the money to do it. Airy, you obviously want to go, so you're going."

She glowered down at the tailor, who was smiling a little stupidly at Airy now, "And if you lay a hand on my sister in a way I don't like, that needle is going in your eye."

A pause, and then a flush, and then a smile. "Yes. He has."

The tailor stopped altogether to gape at her, and she gave him a challenging look in turn. A more calculating gleam returned her flat gaze ... and she had a really horrible feeling that the Orlesians were about to become a lot nicer to her, and to Airy.

Not that they weren't already.

[demonicbeauty]

Ariadne had to hide a smile behind her knuckles. She hadn't known a lot of tailors in her life, but if they were all this easy to impress, it was good to know.

There was a crate nearby, marked 'buttons.' Ariadne perched herself on the edge, to watch the work on Katniss' dress. "You know, I'd very much like to meet him," she said. "I keep hearing whispers about him, but no one really talks to me."

Because she was a Rifter, no doubt. But Ariadne was getting used to that sort of treatment.

[the_effect_she_has]

Most aren't, but between Ariande's smiles and the name casually dropped to make Katniss feel better? They were all coming around Ariande now to coo about her complexion, her hair, what kind of silks they should use...

A frown, and she tipped her head at Ariande. "You still haven't met him? Well, that will change. I'll drag him over to meet you at the party, then."

This Rifter nonsense was getting out of hand, in Katniss's opinion.

[demonicbeauty]

She tried not to look too self-conscious at the sudden wave of compliments. By Human standards, she knew, she was something of an anomaly. But it wasn't often people said anything about it out loud.

It somehow managed to remind her that she wasn't, in fact, Human at all.

Not really.

She focused on Katniss, who'd never been quite so cloying. "I'm sure you two make a handsome couple. One of the things I have heard about him is that he's very pretty."

[the_effect_she_has]

Fabrics were being held up against Airy's skin, some that were truly outrageous and some that actually complimented.

Katniss, who had never, ever been cloying, snorted softly. "Oh, honestly -- Airy, tell them your favorite color before they try to make you into a giant pumpkin or something." She breathed out, heavily, as the other tailor went back to taking her measurements. "We'll make a handsome couple all right. I just hope people don't go about pinching him like they've been pinching me."

Her lips twitched at the corners, "Certainly prettier than me."

[demonicbeauty]

"Red," Ariadne told one of the tailors, as politely as possible. "For my mother. She was sometimes called Rosaline."

And she realized, in that moment, that she'd never really talked about her parents with Katniss before. A funny thing, considering the fact that they were sisters now.

Hardly the funniest though.

"Oh, I doubt he's prettier than you," Ariadne said, turning back to Katniss.

[the_effect_she_has]

"Red. You heard the lady." Katniss said, with a little more force than Ariande. She had her hands on her hips, grey eyes narrowed.

She paused, giving Ariadne a curious look. "What was she called, the rest of the time?"

Pursuing her lips, she smirked, "I'm sure that's an argument he and I will have."

[demonicbeauty]

Ariadne squirmed a little. Matter of instinct, more than anything else. Really, she had no reason to hide certain truths about her family from Katniss. Katniss would never know. She lacked the context to...well...to judge. To think less of Ariadne.

At least, she hoped so.

"Her name was Rotspine," Ariadne said evenly. "But they sometimes couldn't pronounce that, so they called her Rosaline. In the cities. A long time before I was born, I think."

[the_effect_she_has]

Considering where Katniss's family came from, how she was judged on her own bloodlines on both sides of her cultural heritage? Katniss might be less judgmental than she thought.

"Rotspine... yes, I can see why she might want to go with Rosaline instead." She thought about that for a long moment, giving Ariande a quiet look. "You miss her? Your mother?"

[madame_de_fer]

Vivienne has descended from her balcony to check on how the tailors are faring with their excess of business. She does so at least once a day, more if she catches wind of too much grumbling. Of course there's always grumbling, but the point is to smooth things out, not make more rumpled messes.

What she hears on entering is Katniss. And absolutely unacceptable.

The last thing anyone ever wants to see in their life is Madame de Fer coming at them with tightly reined anger on her face. Anger which manifests in frosty disdain and disapproval. The tailor working with Katniss gets fixed with just such a look. Everyone in the Undercroft starts to scurry for cover and even Harritt suddenly needs-to-do-something-he'll-be-right-back. The unfortunate tailor is visibly quaking in his heeled shoes.

"I do believe I'm in need of a rest. I thought I heard someone was being vulgar with one of my friends. I must have misheard."

She knows she hasn't and if her icy stare could kill, the man would be dead.

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss twists her head, and she might be the only person who actually looks relieved. Which, honestly, says something about both women.

"Madame Vivienne, thank the Maker. Could you please tell this perverted dolt that I want a dress, simple, nice fabric, not risky cut down the front to my navel -- not ... whatever he is sketching and squeezing my rear end for 'measurements'."

She gestured to the sketchpad, to be fair to the tailor, was rather a lovely gown, if not daring in the cut of the bodice and the back. Still, his hand is frozen in fear, hovering over Katniss's rear, so he is not entirely innocent.

Fereldan sensibility has met, again, Orlesian flare and found it a poor fit.

[madame_de_fer]

Without waiting for permission, Madame de Fer picks up the sketchbook to examine the proposed gown. "Oh this is lovely." She has Katniss' back in regards to being manhandled but not in rejection of a very nice dress. One that would indeed look marvelous on her.

"Forgive me, darling, I seem to misunderstand. This is the gown they are fitting you for? Not a pair of leather riding breeches?" Because that is the only reason in the world for groping a young lady's backside during a fitting. (Uncomfortable, to be sure, but leather can be so unforgiving around a shapely rump and if the fit is not executed just so, the wearer can anticipate many unhappy hours.) The point being, this is a dress fitting and suddenly the man in question is very busy pulling out fabric samples. "It's fitted but nothing a tape measure could not determine."

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss glowered at the tailor as she hopped off the stool and looked again at the gown, "Yes, that's the one. Certainly not leather breeches - we have good armor smiths or our merchants can do trade in leather with me for those."

She gave the tailor a dirty look, "Oh, well then I guess I do get to feed this fellow his teeth? Or should I just let you turn him into a giant ice cube as an example to other handsy tailors?" She wouldn't, for Vivienne's sake and for all her loved ones -- but the threat had to be made.

"Or he could actually make sure that gown is something I can move around in - using a damned tape measure."

[madame_de_fer]

"Let's start with the tape measure, shall we? I believe that should be more than sufficient for the task." It's issuing orders and putting the tailor on notice to behave.

The best thing to do now is ignore him and make her displeasure known. Vivienne could ruin him with a word and they both know it. Instead she trains her eyes on the sketchbook, considering the lines of the dress. There is a thoughtful hum. "You know, darling, I had an idea for a gown but I believe it would work very well with this one. If you're willing to make an incredible impression."

Hint that it will be a stunning appearance? Vivienne is willing to give away one of her own marvelous ideas.

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss huffed, before she stood up on on the stand once again. Folding her arms over her chest, as she continued to glower at the tailor -- until Vivienne spoke about her idea.

She looked over at the other woman, dark eyebrows lifting, "...Well, I sort of have to make an incredible impression, considering what I'm trying to do there, and who I am going to be entering with."

[madame_de_fer]

"Indeed you must."

Vivienne takes up a bit of charcoal left on a table from the initial sketching of the gown. Quickly, she adds a few strokes, to demonstrate what she has in mind. When she hands it to Katniss for inspection, it looks very much as if she's drawn on flames licking at the edges of the dress. "What do you think, my dear?"

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss hopped down off the stool, moving around to peer over Vivienne's shoulder. Her eyebrows rise together, then interest sparked through her expression as she watched.

"I ... think that would be incredible. Can you really make my dress do that?"

[madame_de_fer]

"Indeed I can. It's a handy little trick I picked up from an acquaintance. Here, allow me..."

Vivienne glances around the temporary workshop of the tailors. There are garments on mannequins all around, in varying stages of completion. On finding a gown that is nearly the correct length, she walks over and waves one hand in the air. As she does, tongues of a green flame jump to life, licking about the edges. The tailors let out anguished cries of dismay.

"Oh come now, it's not even hot. Do come pass your hand through it. The fabric remains untouched."

[the_effect_she_has]

Katniss's eyes widened as Vivienne's flames licked around the corners of the fabric, but didn't curl them up. She moved towards it, as she moved ever towards flames it seemed, and reached out to touch the fire.

No burn, no pain, almost like an illusion, but not.

"That's incredible -- what is it?" She asked, turning to look back at Vivienne.