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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Christine didn't know Cole, but it wasn't a bad idea to make herself known if she wished to join.

"I came in with the mages of Redcliffe." Rebel mages, they were called, though most were people who simply wished to live in peace without the Templars enforcing more and more harsh restrictions on them. To be called a rebel for wanting her freedom when she was in no way dangerous showed the way the wind was always blowing in Thedas.

"It is good of you to help when you are not of this world." Airy was under no obligation to, but it was a sign of the type of person she was.

"As long as I'm here," she said, "I am part of the world. So if I can make it a better place, it seems to me that that would be the best use of my time. I'd hope that someone visiting my world would feel the same way."

Not that she would blame them if they fell into the same pit of hopelessness as so many others.

She pulled her long, rope-like braid over her shoulder, running her fingers along the crevices. "I only wish that people wouldn't stare at me so much," she added.

"I am afraid we are quite a world filled with starers," she answered, almost apologetic in tone. It was because the world was filled will such wonders and horrors that most simply couldn't look away. And they were probably still trying to determine if the rifters were dangerous or not.

"As long as your hand remains uncovered and glowing, people will stare until they find something else to occupy their time."

Human nature was a funny thing. Sometimes it made perfect sense. Other times...Ariadne was just confounded by them.

And, of course, she was now Human too. Hard enough when she'd barely understood herself before.

She glanced down at her hand, the pad of her thumb brushing against the shard. "Sometimes I think about wearing gloves," she said. "But then I think that would be dishonest somehow."

"Do you?" Christine considered that point of view. There were very few clothes she owned, but most were mage robes. The outfits she had that didn't immediately show she was a mage somehow felt more freeing. She could walk around and know she wasn't making strangers uncomfortable just by her mere presence. She had never looked on it as dishonesty before, but perhaps it was. Yet to constantly carry her staff or wear some token to show she was a mage hardly seemed right either. They had been separated from society and locked away. They had been cut off from family and told they would never marry, inherit, or have children that wouldn't be taken away from them. Why should she still have to announce what she was after the treatment mages endured?

"It is not dishonest unless someone outright asks if you are a rifter and you say no. If they make the assumption you are not a rifter only to later discover you are, that is their fault, not yours. You should not be required to announce it."

Those were the exact rules she lived by when pretending to be a Human. That a lie of omission wasn't really a lie.

But it was probably easier to pass for Human than a native of this place. The landscape was so terribly confusing. And since no one would tell her half of the things she needed to know, she was always guessing. Except for those rare occasions when she could pool information with Marcel.

And Marcel knew less than she did.

"Some people think we should be even more blatantly marked," she said. "Or kept pent up."

"Those same people are probably the ones who were comfortable with mages being locked away out of sight too. How sad for them to have to face that which they do not like."

It was a streak of bitterness that she tried not to allow out in the open too often, but she felt she could empathize with Airy because of the similarities between how mages and rifters were treated.

It was amazing.

For a split second--less than that--Christine disappeared. And standing in her face, Ariadne saw her mother. She blinked and it was gone, but she couldn't quite stifle a surprised noise.

Christine had the determination of Rotspine. The same fire in her voice. The same certainty.

It was remarkable.

"You...you speak well," she said.

"Well," she began, a little bit pleased at the compliment, "I see no point in not speaking my mind. Otherwise nothing would ever change." It's why she'd been a Libertarian in the Circle, and had supported Fiona's efforts for greater freedom for mages; for the freedom to govern themselves. Who better understood their needs than themselves?

"I thank you for saying so."

Ariadne ducked her head and curtsied in response. She hadn't meant to flatter. It was just a feeling that struck her. Struck her to the very core of her being.

Such a thing could hardly be ignored. It was a gift, after all.

"You're much kinder than many of the other natives of this land that I've met," she said. "I hope many more are like you."

The compliment this time was a little more surprising, but not unwelcome. Christine knew she cared, and sometimes cared too much about people. It was in her nature. She had always wanted to heal and protect from the moment she accidentally cast her first spell: a barrier placed over a stray cat to protect it from mean children. She worried, she mothered people, she was stubborn and put her foot down if they didn't listen. But she cared, and that led her to being kind (to the patients who weren't idiots, anyway).

"I am sure there are. It's just a matter of finding them. There are some here that I never expected to see kindness from, but they can surprise you."

"Oh, I'm sure of it," she said, turning to examine a bolt of fabric. "People's basic nature is good. They're just taught to be afraid." She ran her thumb along the pattern, a gold thread running through the red silk. "Which is why it's the job of us Rifters--that's what we call ourselves--to make it absolutely clear that we mean you no harm."

She paused, turning to look back at Christine.

"At least...I don't..."

"It is the same way with mages," she replied. "We can say we mean no harm until we are blue in the face, but there will always be some who ruin things for the rest of us by lashing out." By attacking refugees, by practicing blood magic, by blowing up a Chantry and sending debris all across the city. It's frustrating that she is viewed as being like them. She is nothing of the sort.

"I think, in this way, you will find most mages to be sympathetic to you, Airy."

She frowned curiously, in a almost childlike sort of way. "Does that really happen?" she asked. "Do people's faces really turn blue?"

Whatever else Ariadne was, it was earnest. Whereas someone else might have sounded like they were making a joke...she was serious.

Incredibly, unapologetically, without-question...serious.

Christine wasn't expecting such a response, and she let out a short laugh of surprise, startling the tailor.

"It is a turn of phrase. To be blue in the face means you speak so much that you have used all your breath. People deprived of air do get a tinge of blue, mostly in their lips."

"Oh."

Ariadne had never been very good with figures of speech. After some practice, she'd managed to pick up some of the phrases that the Elves back home used. But she was still constantly thrown off guard.

It was the most drastic flaw in her otherwise seamless, Human disguise.

And it was bad enough that she slipped up. But Ariadne also had a tendency to question some of the stranger turns of phrase. "I can't imagine anyone using up all their breath. All they'd have to do is take another. Unless...they died in the middle of a sentence, I suppose..."

"It is not meant to be taken literally. Such a thing is merely suggesting how some people carry on, so intent on saying everything they wish that it seems as though they would forget to take a breath."

In all honesty, Christine didn't expect a woman from another world to understand the oddities of phrases, and so it was nothing to her to explain it.

"I see."

She nodded earnestly, committing the phrase--along with stockpiles of others--to memory. And, feeling embarrassed, turned to look at the red fabric again.

It wasn't the worst reaction she might have garnered. She could be grateful for that, at least.

"As you can see, I wouldn't be very good at a party. I have no small talk. None at all."

"At a party such as this, that would be a hindrance, yes. But I am sure there will be other parties, like we had on First Day. Simple affairs where no one will be judging you for your lack of small talk." But setting her against nobles wouldn't be the best idea. Nobles found fault in everything.

"And I don't know how to dance," she pointed out. But really, Ariadne was trying to talk herself out of wanting to go. Wanting to see everyone swirl around like colorful autumn leaves falling from the branches.

She'd never been to a ball. But she could well imagine one.

"I suppose you wouldn't know Thedosian dances even if you could." Christine had been taught in the Circle, and it had been the only part of the Grand Game she had agreed to participate in. Dancing was wonderful.

"There is still time to learn, of course, but it will not matter if you are not attending."

Ariadne looked up, her eyes suddenly wide and eager. "Well, I'd like to learn," she said enthusiastically. "Even if I don't go to the ball. I love dances. I know a few Elven dances from back home."

They were so elegant. Taunting and teasing and drifting. Of course, she had never done the full, complete dances. Most of them required eight to ten people. But she'd practiced more than once with Aunt Lysia. And a few times, Adriana had joined them to correct their steps.

"I would be...an important part of my cultural education." Which was completely untrue, but she was so excited at the possibility...

"Oh?" she asked, a note of interest to her voice. "I am no teacher, but I do adore the dances I learned as an apprentice. I could show you a few, if you would be agreeable to lessons?"

Whether Ariadne meant it or not, Christine felt it would be good for a rifter to absorb the culture of the land a bit. It would help her stand out less. Though really, what would help any of them stand out less would be a thick pair of gloves.

"Oh yes!" Ariadne cried jumping up, so enthusiastic that she nearly knocked over the bolt of red fabric. She quickly steadied it then looked guilty, folding her hands behind her back and turning her eyes down.

She delicately cleared her throat. "I would like that very much, my lady," she said sheepishly, reverting back to the courtly manners she'd been taught.

Such a reaction had both Christine and the tailor jumping a little in shock. But then Christine smiled and bobbed her head.

"Then it is settled. My evenings are usually free. We could have lessons then?"

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