faderift | Open: Party Preparations

Open: Party Preparations

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.

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Observing all this from her own sea of tailors and assistants trying to get her measurements, Korrin perks up a little as she's given something else to focus on other than these Orlesians' incessant complaining. She knows Araceli has her reasons for not wanting to toe the line at the moment, but a pleasant daydream makes all this standing around and being judged a little more bearable.

"I don't suppose you could get them to make a completely scandalous version for later? Because I would most definitely support that. And--no, no lace. I heard that, and I'm not interested. You're not putting me in anything frilly or lacy or with sleeves." That last part is said to the head tailor, of course, who sighs at the severe limitations Korrin has set down.

“If I had the coin for two? Yes, but I don’t at present and right now I don’t have as much time to spend getting that sort of coin together.” Maybe before but Leliana’s reading list is extensive, as are the hours required to get used to the lute and singing things more delicate than the mournful or often bawdy tavern fare. “Lace isn’t going to bite you, Korrin,” she replies serenely, waving away a swatch of embroidered silk.

“Dark embroidery, and lacing, that’s why I would like the bust lower than usual,” she tells the tailor before she rattles off her measurements because a girl knows these things precisely or she might suffer painfully. “I will have a little lace, a small cuff at the sleeves. Don’t you have to get measured for armour and such things Korrin? It’s the same thing.”

"Yes, but when I get measured for armor, it's by people I know and trust. People who don't grumble at me for having the audacity to be tall and not-human, and mutter the worst of their comments in Orlesian when they think I can't understand what they're saying." That gets a muted giggle from one of the assistants, who's quickly hushed.

"Besides, lace doesn't suit me, but you and that dark embroidery...I can see it. You would be even more dashing than usual. I might swoon." She grins, able to bear all this if she can flirt with the most beautiful woman in the Undercroft. "Adelaide suggested crimson to contrast you, so maybe something in highever weave, like the accents on my armor. I'm partial to silk brocade, though. And ugh, no, I don't need or want a ruffle around my neck. What did I just say about 'not restrictive'?"

Fittings in the guard can be loud and giggly. There is quite often a spot of fencing with pins, but the fact that they are being so rude and so openly? No. Not in front of her, and not to Korrin they are not.

"One would hate for Madame Vivienne to walk in, I am sure she would be appalled to hear you behaving such a way about her fellow councillor, and your masters? What would they think?" Flexible as she is, it's easy to turn to the assistant and fix her with the sort of look normally reserved for a duel, a smile on her face but a more dangerous look in her eyes. This is practice, she thinks, bluffing and working with what she has and judging from the gasp at her own side, it's hit the mark.

"A little lace goes a long way, most overdo it," she continues as if she hasn't just issued a gentle but very real threat. "What I'll need are more uniforms; the scouts look like potatoes, and leather armour isn't comfortable to move in after a few hours. If you could see me the way I would usually dress your heart would stop in your chest. Red would work, maybe a touch of gold or silver? Just to bring out the colour and keep it interesting. Rajani, a good friend, she wears red and gold when we can wear our own colours."

'A good friend' meaning a fellow guard, not something she would say in public and least of all here.

Korrin was just going to ignore the assistant, more engrossed with a certain lovely rifter woman, but Araceli's quiet display of temper gets a grin out of her all the same. She almost doesn't notice the assistant's blanching and immediate meekness, more enjoying seeing Araceli fired up like this instead. Not that Korrin can't stand up for herself, of course, but there's something about that flash in her lady's eyes that makes the Vashoth mage wish they weren't surrounded by people. That passion is one of the traits she loves most in Araceli, and it's beyond flattering to have that reaction provoked because of her.

"You're rather skilled at getting my heart to stop anyway, you know. I hardly think you need the help, which isn't to say that it's not welcomed." Anything Araceli wears tends to suit her perfectly, after all. "Hm...maybe red and silverite, then. I have plenty of the latter left over, it might as well see some use. I've no idea about overall designs yet, though. Everything they've shown me up to this point is so far from suiting me that it's laughable." The design schematics and illustrations in that open book nearby are proof enough of that.

If she's going to be playing the Game, this is just the start, the true start since the timing of the party aligns so neatly with it all. And this is Korrin. Even if Korrin wasn't her lover, and hadn't been the one to save her life in Haven, it rankles that she's treated as she is. Araceli has been spoken of rudely and has had to smile as if it never happened, been called all sorts of things, and too many times she has had to say nothing and move on as if it never happened but here? Here in the underforge she can speak up without any reprisals.

As true as Korrin's words are, she still makes a tutting sound, shaking her head as she turns neatly for the assistant and rises up on her toes then back down to make sure the dress won't be cut too short - too long is easily hemmed but too short? Disaster. "If you could see me as Leandra does, you would know why I'm her favourite," she teases, throwing in a wink because she can. "Do you just keep metal in your room? Hoarding ore is a crime in a neighbouring country, you would be thrown in prison for such a thing. But...you have broad shoulders that shouldn't be hidden, so perhaps something without entirely if you're going to wear any sort of gown, or epaulettes, even just on one to make it more interesting. I would say to show off your whole back and for strings of beads and pearls to be wound through your hair and horns but those are the ways of my people."

Korrin snorts in amusement at the thought of silverite stashes in her room. "You know how little space there is; where would I even hide it? Nah, Harritt's holding it for me and it's completely legal. At least I assume he and countless Inquisition people would have told me otherwise."

She listens thoughtfully at Araceli's suggestions, definitely trusting in her exquisite taste. That she's from another world with a different sense of fashion doesn't change that at all. "Showing off my shoulders or at least a shoulder...I can do that. As for my horns and hair, I wouldn't mind matching you if that's going to be your plan. I would only trust you with it, though." These people know their clothes, and she can grudgingly admit that, but her hair, no. Off-limits, at least to them.

"You would be amazed at what I can smuggle in my bodice." Or wait until she's in a corset and realise just how much she can actually hide in there Korrin because it's damned impressive; all thieves work with what they have. "We don't really have ore on the islands, we have to send for it all and you can't put too much on ships or you're asking for trouble." Not just from other pirates but the weight of it isn't good for ships, not when they still have to sail through storms to make it back to Castileos.

Tipping her head to the side, she squints, trying to picture it better before nodding. "One shoulder bare and the other with some sort of decoration would give balance, draw the eye elsewhere. I can take the time to do your hair, we all used to help each other getting ready, my friends and I. I've got a string of pearls for winding through my own, I'm sure I'll have time to get hold of something that would suit you. I'm sure our new friends here would have suggestions." Or they'd better or she'll find other people to order a new jacket from.

"Is that an invitation to look, kadan?" The assistant currently helping Korrin -not the giggly one- chokes at that, which gets out a smirk from the Vashoth woman. It's increasingly difficult to behave herself the long she's here, in one way or another. Will she manage any better at the soiree itself? Only time will tell.

"Hm, I could use that silverite to craft a pauldron. That ought to be eye-catching enough. Maybe it'll even be dragon-shaped, to honor the Valo-Kas." That purely depends on how much effort she wants to put into this. Soirees are so not her style, but there is something to be said for showing off, even though it's not her usual style of doing so. "Pearls in your hair would be lovely. In mine, they'd be lost among all the white unless they're the rarer sort and rare is less guaranteed. But I'd be willing to give it a shot, and help you with yours. My style is simple, by I can manage more, with instruction."

"Might be an invitation to go searching if you play your cards right." She raises her arms up at instruction to allow herself to be measured though she's correct that there's no huge difference in her measurements here compared to back home but it seems to satisfy the tailor and she's finally free to take a seat again as they confer, leaving Araceli to examine swatches of fabrics.

"There will be other parties, I'm sure, statement pieces are common enough that so long as the outfit changes, you can get away with wearing them again. Lots of ladies like to wear model ships in their hair where I come from, especially if their family owns one, so they wear them at all the parties and just change the gowns or the coats." Best not to mention the wigs that in some circles, wigs fashioned in the shape of an octopus are all the rage, in both natural and outlandish colours. Maybe when she's been in Thedas longer and she can just show up wearing one. "Somewhere in Thedas must have black pearls, and there's always a next time. But I have ideas. Surprises."

And she's got plenty of hiding spots in Skyhold.

That invitation gets a mischievous grin from the Vashoth woman, who might already be having thoughts about spiriting away this wonderful woman in all her finery to some dark alcove during the soiree. She won't be needed every single moment, after all. The thought is enough to get her through more measurements without a glower or eyeroll.

"Oh? Well, if your goal is to have me actually anticipating this shindig, you've succeeded. I can't wait to see what surprises you have in store." She chuckles at the thought of such outlandish hair ornaments. "I heard there used to be a noblewoman who loved the sound of her birds so much that she wore their cage in her hair. They were so nervous they shit all over it, though. At least model ships won't produce such a smell...I think."

Korrin, her real dress is too fabulous for dark alcoves. Also so fabulous that she'll remove it herself just to be safe because there's a very real chance she's going to need to keep it in the best condition. Bards go to the parties, and she knows exactly how to do her job wearing even more restrictive garments.

Now that gets a very loud snort out of her, as well as a laugh that echoes in the underforge. "Really? I cannot believe anywhere would be so mad. Titsicles I can absolutely understand, those are naturally very beautiful and not at all shameful," so fuck you Cade, "but birds in your hair? Model ships only smell if you have them made with a little perfume compartment, it was a trend of sorts a few years ago actually, there was one merchant's wife that I still can call a very close friend and she filled the compartment of hers with saffron. Saffron, Korrin!" Korrin do you have any idea how expensive saffron is!

Having traveled all over Thedas, Korrin has a fair idea of just how expensive safforn can be, especially in places where not readily accessible. She snorts in amusement, though a reprimanding tap from one of the tailors has her straightening again so that she doesn't ruin their work. "It's all ridiculous, isn't it? Maybe that's what happens when you become insanely wealthy. The more you have, the less likely you are to remain touch with reality, unless you're fortunate enough to have someone to ground you. And when you're surrounded by like minds, it just a never-ending competition to see who can alleviate boredom in the most bizarre way."

Maybe that assessment is inaccurate with some nobles, but Korrin's seen enough of Orlesian elite to be fairly confident in her assessment from the outside. "At least model ships would be easier on the nose, though I think your hair is gorgeous enough without adding any to it." That does put her in mind for a gift for Araceli later, though.

"If I became rich I'd have a ship and a good loyal crew so we could chase the horizon, and if I am to be trapped here then perhaps one day I'll find the people who'll want to go sail off to the edges of your map and come back with it filled in." That it takes so few pages to describe all of Thedas comfortably is upsetting, that there seem to be so few reports beyond what she's seen when she looks at their maps and compares it to home, to the great huge spread of island and archipelagos that make up Castileos, built on the bones of ruined towers that still extend deep below the waves until it becomes too dark to see and the pressure would crush a person.

Her mind strays to Leandra, to Arsenio. To Rajani, Brunilda, Eir, Argyris, and Nerissa. All of them are noble, all with sharp minds and the desire to do good but there are more conversations she needs to have one day beyond the details she mentions here and now to Korrin.

"But, I must take my leave, I have lessons to get back to." Not that she minds heraldry too much. "Behave for the tailors or you know I'll find out." And ignoring the assistants squawking, she cranes up as much as she can to give Korrin a kiss before she goes sashaying out the underforge.

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Open: Party Preparations

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