maybe cats will take over when we all die. that's a nice thought.

[apostasia]

WHO: Martel + Merrill (closed)
WHAT: If Merrill won't go to the ball, the ball will go to Merrill.
WHEN: backdated to late night after Vivienne and Josephine's soiree.
WHERE: A Skyhold balcony.
NOTES: Saccharine fucking cuteness.

Having spent the better part of the evening discreetly having various delicacies smuggled out of the party by various amenable parties, when Martel parts from Adelaide as the soiree begins to break up, he speaks quietly with a few of the servers to make the last few arrangements. A bribe or two may or may not have been involved in securing the use of a particular balcony (not Vivienne's); lighting the lamps to sweep a bit more than moonlight across stone, he surveys it with a critical eye for just a moment before he makes his way to where Merrill has been staying.

"If you aren't wearing the dress," he says, his voice carrying ahead of him on the off-chance that at this late hour of the night she isn't even decent, "I am going to be exceptionally disappointed in you. I've a surprise."

And - a handful of hair pins and a comb?

Comments

[chainlightning]

"The dress?"

It's nearly squeaked out, and Merrill starts to grab for it. It had been made, but Merrill hadn't quite expected to have to wear it after she decided against going to the ball. She can't quite actually get it all on by herself, which means when she does peek her head out for Martel, it's loose and not entirely on.

"Well- you'll need to help me, I'm afraid; I'm not used to this sort of- contraption."

But she laughs as she says it, delighted to see him.