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

for merrill.

[apostasia]

Martel's own fitting had been efficient, exacting and brief; he handled their attitudes by behaving as if noticing it was beneath him and ran casually roughshod over them with his own, precise and specific in what he wants and what he expects. It had probably not thrilled any of their Orlesian guests when afterwards he had remained -

with Merrill, whose fittings he has apparently undertaken to personally oversee.

"Fabric can be dyed," he's saying, holding two pieces against her, thoughtfully, to see whether or not the colours they already are might suit. "What do you like the texture of? We can change it to suit if need be."

By 'we' he means the expensive problem children who wish he'd leave.

[chainlightning]

Clothing made to fit her isn't exactly new; while there are certainly hand-offs and castdowns, the Dalish were hunters and mages and knew the value of well-fitting armor. But none of it has ever been this fancy, practically ceremonial for all the emphasis being placed on this upcoming celebration. None of it has ever been out of these sorts of materials, either, the textures and colors of which are making Merrill's gaze flick around the room at an almost dizzying pace.

It is Martel's presence that helps steady her, the familiarity of his voice and the fact that, for all he is more versed in this than she is, he's a friend. He's certainly someone who will keep any Orlesian tailors from steamrolling her with their opinions (whether they are simply opinions Merrill doesn't agree with or ones specifically designed to show their opinion of elves), and honestly, it's also quite interesting to watch him work with the others. Maybe he would stand out in Orlais, as she once told him, but he could also do quite well.

"I- um, soft? I've mostly worn leather, I suppose."