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

[dreadinquisitor]

"Because gossip mongering is for school children, unless it's done behind a fan."

The tailor pulled the fabric tight and Maxwell sucked in a breath.

"Or so I'm told."

[keeperofmagi]

She snorted, a low amused sound, even though she'd never been to a school. Not a real one, anyway. An orphanage wasn't the same thing.

"Remind me and I will take a fan." She looked him over, frowning slightly. "The black seems dour, on you. Perhaps a blue?"

[dreadinquisitor]

"I asked about blue, but it - ah," he glanced down, embarrassed. "It's a bit out of my price range."

Blue might have been his favorite, but that meant little to his purse.

"In the end, it's just fabric, right? I'll be wearing it the same."

[keeperofmagi]

She frowned. She had thought him a noble - no, she knew he was a noble - so she had assumed money wouldn't be an issue. She didn't say so aloud, however.

"True. Though if you truly wanted blue, I am sure there are cheaper ways to dye the fabric. You can have it made in a lighter, cheaper fabric, and simply collect the herbs necessary to dye it."

[dreadinquisitor]

He saw the look, that little question between her eyebrows, and there was a small lurch in the pit of his stomach. Equal parts shame and grief and anger.

The tailor snorted, making a low "bah!" of disapproval around the pins in his mouth.

"I'm no herbalist," he said lowly. "I'd be just as likely to ruin it."

[keeperofmagi]

She let out a low hmm under her breath, completely ignoring the tailor.

"It is likely too late for the ball, now. But remind me, later, and I will see if I can do something for you, for the next time.

[dreadinquisitor]

His head came back up, eyes widened in surprise.

"That is very kind of you," he said on a breath. "But you really needn't trouble yourself--"

He'd already turned down the open purse of the woman offering to pay for anyone who couldn't. He didn't want to be indebted. He didn't - he wanted to believe he could do this, on his own.

That he didn't need the Treveans.

[keeperofmagi]

She shook her head, ignoring his protests.

"It is no trouble. I can teach you, and then you can do it for yourself when required. I often use dyes, when I am not using silver for my masks. It is far easier to make a rich colour, when you are controlling it yourself."

The tailor sniffed unhappily.

[dreadinquisitor]

"I--"

He didn't know what to say. Just still there, coloring slightly, glad of the fabric and the tailor's busy hands to hide it.

"Thank you."

[keeperofmagi]

She just nodded, as thanks were proper, and she wasn't expecting any further statement anyway.

"Remind me," She told him, in a firm tone that indicated just how much trouble he would be in if he didn't remind her. "I should probably leave you to your fitting, for now."

[dreadinquisitor]

He might have offered her a polite half-bow, if not for the tailor tutting heavily as he'd started to move. Instead he gave her the smallest of smiles and a little nod of his head.

"Good luck."