faderift | Truth or Dare: The Imperial Court

Truth or Dare: The Imperial Court

WHO: Select Orlesian and Fereldan Nobility and the Inquisition
WHAT: Josephine and Vivienne have orchestrated a good-will soiree in response to this dastardly rumor.
WHEN: Drakonis 15, Evening
WHERE: Skyhold Great Hall
NOTES:
- A list of nobles in attendance can be found here. The list was provided by the mods but there will be no npc support for them. Play away.
- A secondary outside party is being held in the valley in the tent town for anyone who couldn't/wouldn't attend and/or behave in the fancy pansty party.
- The goal of the evening is to clear up a spurious rumor about Cassandra and Leliana, with secondary goals of establishing the Inquisition as a respectable presence in Thedas (and fish for more money). Any major disruptions that would Game Over the court approval should probably be brought to the advisors and/or mods.

To say that Josphine has far outdone herself with this little soiree would be the understatement of the year. The Lady Ambassador has pulled out all the stops in providing a festive and yet elegant stage for this political intervention. Because sometimes gossip can be more deadly than a sword.

The Great Hall of Skyhold has been converted into a grand receiving hall, glittering with hundreds of lights around the room, in addition to the repairs accomplished to the original chandeliers. Of course, there has been artful placement arranged so there are a few shadowy corners for rendezvous of the more suggestive nature. Just in case. The majority of the floor has been cleared for dancing, and a fine troupe of musicians have been installed for the bulk of the evening's entertainments. Some members of the Inquisition have plans to entice attendees with their own artistic performances in addition to the group of mages performing illusory tricks to oohs and aahs.

For those who feel their energy flagging, there are chairs set against the walls, with a few tables interspersed between. Servers hired for the evening circulate the crowds with wine, fine Orlesian and Nevarran reds as well as crisp whites from Antiva. Refreshments are set out on buffet tables, tasteful and extravagant nibbles, including imported cheeses, spicy saucisson, dried fruits and nuts, and the highly sought after deep mushroom and anise petits fours that are all the rage in Orlais.

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"And a long one I'm sure it will be." Metaari casts Merrick a wink before he raises his glass to his lips, though he takes only a sip from his own. He's never been much of a wine drinker, but even he can tell that maybe that's just because he's never had one like this. What an improvement from the watered down swill of a cheap tavern.

He eventually turns slightly, lifting a hand to lightly brush his knuckles down Merrick's jaw. "You do look... absolutely stunning, Merrick. I can't stop looking at you."

Merrick has a good buzz going now, so he half-smiles easily, taking Metaari's hand in both of his.

"Then don't," he replies cheekily.

That earns Merrick a grin and Metaari tilts his head, leaning down just a little. "I've certainly no plans to."

He's very nearly leaned over enough to drop a kiss to the top of Merrick's head when he hears a high-pitched giggle to his side. Metaari blinks and casts his gaze sideways, raising an eyebrow at the young noble woman standing there, tittering behind her hand. He straightens up and turns toward her a little, a slight hesitation in the movement. "Ah-- may I help you, madam?"

The question earns another giggle and Metaari shifts a little under the intensity of her stare as her eyes roam up and down. "Oh, I'm sure you could," she finally says with another giggle before she turns her head aside as if embarrassed by her own words.

It's a testament to how far Merrick has come in terms of self-control that he doesn't shove the woman away right then and there. Instead he looks incredulously at her, his lips forming a tight line.

He doesn't speak, but he moves his body slightly closer to Metaari's.

Metaari glances down toward Merrick with a faint grin as he feels that shift, and he moves an arm to put it around the elf's waist, resting his hand against his hip. "In that case, what may I do for you?"

The woman casts a scathing glance toward Merrick, her eyes trailing to the hand at his waist, and she schools her look almost as quickly as it comes across her. She shakes her head and turns fully to the side with all the affectations of a shy school girl without any of the actually being one. "Oh, no, I really shouldn't say. It isn't very polite, after all, and I am not nearly so into my drink as to freely ask."

Then why bring it up, Metaari thinks, though he manages to bite his tongue on the question.

"Have some more to drink then," Merrick supplies helpfully. He's past being confused and grumpy and is now profoundly irritated. Could she not see they were here together?

She probably can, he realizes with a sinking feeling. It's just that he's an elf, he's probably just there as a distraction, he couldn't possibly be involved in something serious.

"I would," she croons, though there's a coldness to her voice that immediately makes Metaari's hand on Merrick tighten, just in case, "but the help carrying the drinks seem to have disappeared. Be a dear and fetch them for me, will you?"

Yep. Yep, he's just going to step forward here and tuck Merrick behind him because a vision flashes through his head of claws going to the noble's face and that's probably the last thing they need right now. "My lady," he says, his voice slightly louder, and definitely firmer. "You should speak your intentions freely. I insist, and swear that there won't be any judgment on your actions from us."

It's for the best, because anger burns in Merrick's throat more than any alcohol. He wants to just walk away, but that would look like he was going to follow this woman's order and he'd honestly rather die.

His fingers close around Metaari's sleeve instead, clutching, and he can't resist a snort at the last part of his sentence.

Metaari glances over his shoulder briefly at the snort and, thankfully, it didn't seem like the woman had noticed it. She was distracted anyway, her gaze slowly sizing Metaari up, before her eyes finally land on his horns and don't stray. A sense of familiarity washes over Metaari and he very nearly groans; he can almost predict what's coming.

"Oh, where are my manners. I am Odette Charbonnier, sister to Bernadette Charbonnier. We were invited very specifically by those who organized this little soiree." She pauses, as though waiting for the meaning of that to sink it, and it does: this is someone in particular the upper echelon wanted to impress. Great.

When she holds out a hand Metaari has to check a sigh before he reaches out to take a hold of it, leaning over to brush his lips across her knuckles before righting himself again. "I am Metaari. This is Merrick, of Clan Ashara." Metaari leaves his own pause, lets the woman have a moment to realize that he isn't here as a servant. If she's listened enough tonight, she should at least know the clan is as much a part of the Inquisition as anyone else. "Now, what can I do for you, Lady Charbonnier? There is clearly something you would like to ask for." And get on with it, you're interrupting their date.

As Metaari introduces them Merrick walks back out from his date's shadow, and he folds his arms tight against his chest and tries not to look like he's planning imminent murder. Because he is.

He's also protective, though, squaring his shoulders as if he can look anything as intimidating as his partner. He may be viewed by nobles as lower than a cockroach, but Qunari don't get much better. Indeed, the noblewoman (Merrick has already forgotten her name) seems to see Metaari as some kind of exotic animal. Which ain't gonna fly.

His lip curls as Metaari kisses her hand. Try not to think of murder. Try not to think of murder.

There's another giggle from Odette as she pulls her hand away to fan herself and she finally steps a little closer, almost to the point of making Metaari want to take a step away. A little too in his personal space, to be perfectly frank. At this point, he wants to do whatever he can to get this encounter to end.

She gestures for him to be closer and he hesitates for a moment before finally leaning down so that he can hear her as she drops her voice. "I would very much," she starts, a hand resting on his shoulder, "like to touch your horns."

Metaari's eyes pop open slightly and he glances sideways toward Merrick, reaching a hand out to grip his wrist. Please don't kill the noblewoman, Merrick. "Oh, is that all?"

The large hand around his wrist keeps Merrick from just turning and snapping at her to go away. Instead he turns his head away, biting his lip and fuming.

This is pathetic. He hates sucking up to these people. He hates her hand on Metaari's shoulder. He wants to leave.

Edited 2016-04-06 06:38 (UTC)

The woman very nearly squeals in delight as Metaar tilts his head so that she can reach the top of it. Her fingers start at his scalp and trail along the full curve, stopping short of the sharp points at the ends. She delights in poking her finger against one carefully. The motions get repeated a few more times before she finally pulls her hands away with a giggle. "This Inquisition has such lovely followers. You are all making this evening delightful. I will find you again before this evening is through, Metaari." There's a brief curtsy before the woman turns and, thankfully, trots away.

Metaari lets out a breath and straightens himself up, his face falling flat as his ability to keep a pleasant gaze finally fails him. He watches her leave, making sure she's well and truly gone, before he finally turns toward Merrick with a faint grin. "I'm proud of you. Look at her, running off without a single injury."

Merrick is tense, quietly fuming, and is strangely silent for a moment. Then he grabs Metaari's lapel and yanks him down (which is practically bending him in half) to capture his lips in a possessive kiss.

One of his eyes opens during the act, checking to see if any nobles are watching. He sees Odette do a double take and smirks against Metaari's lips.

Metaari grunts slightly as he's yanked down and he braces himself for the kiss. Amusement sparks through him and he takes it just a step further, wrapping his arms around Merrick's waist so he can lift him up as he straightens himself back up. Even after he finally breaks off the kiss he still holds Merrick against him in the air, a grin on his face. "She see it?"

"Don't care anymore," Merrick murmurs in reply, and leans down for another long kiss. He seems very much like he's staking his claim. It deepens as Merrick tilts his head and starts thoroughly using his tongue.

Edited 2016-04-06 07:34 (UTC)

"Nn--"

Nope. That's not good. Noises are bad. Metaari clears his throat and pulls away again, leaning over to slowly lower Merrick back to the ground, straightening before he can be held there. He takes a small step backwards and smiles as he reaches up to lightly poke Merrick in the forehead. "No more wine for you."

Merrick frowns and scrunches up his nose. He'd very much like to bail, to go back to his room, for it to just be the two of them-- but Metaari had asked him here, wants to be here. He can do this for him.

"That wine was shit anyway," is his reply.

That earns a laugh and Metaari grins, his head tipping a bit to the side. "Don't let Josephine hear you say that. I hear she has quite the temper."

Metaari takes another step back after a moment and bows slightly at the waist, holding out a hand toward Merrick. "We've had our drinks. I believe it's time for a dance?"

Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. Merrick presses his lips together tightly for a moment then slips his hand into Metaari's, ready to be swept along.

He has no idea how to dance, but he's been fumbling his way through this date thing the whole time. Regardless of how it's going, it isn't bound to change anytime soon. And frankly, that's what makes it exciting.

Metaari straightens himself back up with a grin as he leads Merrick out onto the dance floor, using his size to net them a nice little corner of it. He turns back to his date and holds their joined hands up, his other moving down to rest at Merrick's waist. "Well, this should be good for some entertainment."

Merrick's free hand rests on Metaari's arm, right near his elbow, the highest he can reach while still being comfortable. If the qunari steps on his feet he's liable to crush them, but--

"I trust you," he says, meaning it as a joke when it just comes across as entirely sincere. Maybe it is.

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Truth or Dare: The Imperial Court

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