<El-Cideon> Upon arriving home after her most recent trip, Franceska discovers her githzerai houseguest has vacated premises to, quote, "cease presuming upon the charity of others," as Darrin relates with most of the gith woman's natural stiffness of manner. She considerately left the forwarding address of a modest apartment in a respectable neighborhood a brisk walk from the nearest guard station.
* Franceska decides to call upon her at a reasonable time.
<El-Cideon> A reasonable time proves to be in the evening, as she arrives home from what could only have been a long day of drilling recruits. The gith woman is dressed in uniform with a sergeant's emblem on her breast; her dull red hair is bound up in its customary braid. "A pleasant evening to you, Miss Durant," she says politely upon discovering you waiting.
<Franceska> "Good evening," Franceska returns, nodding curtly. "The guard keeps you busy, I see?"
<El-Cideon> "I keep myself busy," she says curtly. "Most of your young city folk have known little real danger in their life. Impressing upon them the necessity of proper vigilance is at times a task."
<Franceska> "There are, you are implying, a small minority who in fact have seen actual, serious danger?"
<El-Cideon> "Amongst my charges? Not hardly." She leads the way upstairs to a third-floor loft. It is predictably bare and spartan. "Some of the older officers witnessed your late civil war and are made of sterner material, however," she adds. "Albeit these are often the ones that question the wisdom of entrusting their recruits' training to the care of a woman from another world. As though anything other than talent, training and experience should be considered of significance as qualifications."
<Franceska> "It fits with what I thought," Franceska muses, frowning slightly at the spartan furnishings. "Those with any real talent get chased off, and those that remain are second rates that are mistrustful of anything outside their narrow world."
<El-Cideon> "Which should only enhance the importance that those competent souls remaining persist in their efforts," she concludes.
<Franceska> "How does it look?" Franceska asks curiously. "The outlook on outsiders, that is. How do you expect the guard to react to the presence of a medusa or a drow?"
<El-Cideon> She sits on a hard wooden chair and raises an eyebrow. "I should not expect them to receive preferential treatment in hiring," she says without much trace of irony.
<Franceska> "I was thinking more of the sort of reception they might get. I've spent far too long out of touch here, and what I have come to consider dangerous and harmless would, no doubt, be entirely out of step for the locals."
<El-Cideon> "The local outlook is provincial in this regard," Calixta affirms. "Had you intention of inviting such creatures?"
<Franceska> "I did, in fact, think of inviting a very pleasant medusa over to a party I am throwing in a few days. You are invited as well, of course."
<El-Cideon> "I will observe the festivities," Calixta says simply.
<Franceska> "You can even bring a date."
<El-Cideon> "I've not been on watch for such prospects," Calixta admits. "It has in fact been my belief that your human men perceive me as dry and passionless."
<Franceska> "If it is anything I learned while traveling through horrible planes and disposing of people I didn't like, it's that there are all sorts. I would be terribly surprised if you were not someone's type," Franceska assures her.
<El-Cideon> "I am in no great haste to discover who that person might be," Calixta says. "At this time, it is sufficient to be useful to others."
<Franceska> "I suppose your lifespan is far greater than a human's." Franceska shrugs slightly.
<El-Cideon> "For that and other reasons as stated, I do not consider your city a deep pool of potential mates," Calixta concludes. "Your travels have been productive, then?" she infers from your mention of other worlds.
<Franceska> "Some. They also brought me to consider certain things. How would you fight a mage, Calixta? How about the guard? Which tactics would be used, and how would you put the chances?"
<El-Cideon> "Wizards depend much upon spells for protection. Strike quickly before he might ascertain your intentions, before any magical defences might be erected. If possible, before he is aware of your presence. They are rarely hardy specimens. Pressured and without focus to employ their worst tricks, they fall quickly." She looks at you. "Why? Have you expectation of attack from one?"
<Franceska> "Several are amongst Rosemund's enemies. I was just trying to estimate whether it would be worth it using the guard against any of them."
<El-Cideon> "But the guard require an imminent threat in order to be deployed," Calixta points out. "It is a defensive force. I could not properly suggest they be employed to track personal enemies unless it is expected your adversary poses a personal threat within the bounds of the city."
<Franceska> "They can be lured over. But only if the trouble to do so is worth it."
<El-Cideon> "A demonstrable threat is required in order to guarantee official support and protection," Calixta concludes with a shrug. "If such could be proven, it would be within our duty to protect a citizen in distress."
<Franceska> "Would there be any need of an advance warning of such a distress, and if so, how much of one?"
<El-Cideon> "We would hardly constitute a proper aegis if we could not assemble momentarily," Calixta says with perhaps a hint of pride. "But whatever harbinger you could cite of such trouble would be all the better in convincing the officers your trouble is everyone's trouble."
<El-Cideon> The next morning, Franceska collects her maidservant and sets off on the road outside the city proper to drop in on her country residence in the forest. It's a bright spring day, but cool in the shade of this forested country road. "You should find your second residence very clean and orderly, milady," Grey assures you quietly. "I have paid frequent visits."
<Franceska> "Was it a reasonable amount of work? I originally planned to hire more staff. Of course, I originally planned to purchase more residences as well...."
<El-Cideon> Whatever thoughts Grey might have about the necessity of additional homes when Franceska hardly visits the ones she owns, Grey keeps to herself. "It's no trouble, milady. There are no guests to upset anything--except for Alunoriel, and she is no trouble at all," she adds quickly.
<Franceska> "We'll have guests for a change, but it likely won't become a habit," Franceska muses. "How about the town itself? Do you feel welcome?"
<El-Cideon> She looks up at the trees for a moment before answering. "It is very different," she says, adding definitively, "but I do not feel UNwelcome. I feel that it is a safe city. People behave differently. I am just one person among very many, but it does not make me feel as though I am one person beneath very many. Does that make sense?" She sounds almost afraid she might offend with her strange thoughts.
<Franceska> "Oh yes. I can understand it. That is an illusion, of course. There is an upper class which considers itself above the law, but unlike the City of Brass they keep their actions very subtle and rarely intervene. Further, the chances of them trying anything with me are quite slim."
<El-Cideon> Grey nods. "I must take your word for that, milady. All I can say is that they don't behave that way in the streets. In fact, I feel that the other citizens would take it very badly if a powerful person acted the way in public the way everyone did at home. Perhaps it is better this way?"
<Franceska> "I'm annoyed that we seem to have two legal systems. Or is it that certain people are above the law? But in practical terms, it is serviceable and I cannot spare the time right now to fix it. You are also correct in this being a reasonably safe city. The capital might not be, but we are a ways off from there."
<El-Cideon> "Laws are for keeping order," Grey ventures, sounding uncomfortable engaging in philosophic discussion but obliged to continue so long as her mistress maintains the subject. "And in any order someone has to be on top. Isn't that true?" she ventures cautiously.
<Franceska> "I think it might work with a single, immortal ruler," Franceska muses. "But so long as you have a change in rulers or some form of a rule by committee, you risk having the laws twist to suit the different rulers. That sort of inconsistency would only serve to destabilize the nation. How might you predict proper behavior if what constitutes it is mutable, and liable to change at a moment's
<Franceska> notice?"
<El-Cideon> "I don't know, milady," Grey addresses the road beneath her feet, sounding quite lost now.
<Franceska> "Perhaps you have different interests," Franceska relents. "I trust you have sufficient time for them as well, in between your duties?"
<El-Cideon> "Sometimes I cook things just to keep myself busy," she admits. "But other times I might go out to see a show, or to hear music. I never had time for that, at home, the Captain's mistresses were always finding something more for us to do. On very quiet days I might walk out to see how Nori is doing, even if the other house is already in order."
<Franceska> "Like today."
<El-Cideon> Grey nods. "She is very pleasant," Grey affirms, warmly but with a reserved air. "And very graceful. Almost elven, if an elf was a tree of a tree was an elf?" she adds with a wistful smile.
* Franceska winces. "Does she like her new home, after having time to get used to it?" she asks, changing the subject slightly.
<El-Cideon> "I believe so, milady," Grey says. "I have offered to do whatever is in my power to make it more comfortable for her, but you know she prefers to stay outside and she does not eat or drink as a human does because whatever she needs comes from her tree, so..." The young maidservant rambles on with a distracted air. "I thought perhaps I would bring some books and read to her about distant places, since she cannot go away from her tree, but then I thought oh! Books are made out of trees. So perhaps she wouldn't appreciate this after all. So we mostly sit and talk. I think that she's happy here. She says she is."
<Franceska> "An excellent point on the books," Franceska notes, slightly disturbed.
<El-Cideon> "So I thought perhaps I should learn to play an instrument instead," Grey adds, "because a song can tell a story, but I'm not pretty enough to be a singer. But then I thought, which instruments are not made of wood? I don't want to send the wrong message."
* Franceska purses her lips. "This is a case where simply asking her if she has any favorite musical instruments would be the best, simplest option."
<El-Cideon> "Yes, that is what I should do," Grey concludes happily.
<El-Cideon> The house should prove to pass even the most demanding inspection--whatever Franceska's standards of cleanliness, it's clear that Grey's disciplined upbringing imparted a conscientious attention to her duties. Alunoriel herself can be found predictably in close proximity to her tree, presently wading in the nearby stream.
<Franceska> "Good morning," Franceska greets her, waving at the dryad upon approaching the water.
<El-Cideon> "It is, isn't it?" the dryad agrees, standing up from a rinse of her long, leafy mane (now freshly spring green). She steps onto shore streaming water and, quite heedless of this, embraces you in a friendly hug. "It's been some time," she says. Treating Grey with a similar show of affection, she adds, "And you I expect to see nearly every day at this rate."
<Franceska> "Most days are slow days, back in town," Franceska muses, having sadly grown inured to such indignities as being soaked wet on her travels. "And I have just returned from quite possibly the worst plane in existence. The one where I met you vies for the top spot with it, surely, so it is quite good to be back."
<El-Cideon> Grey blushes and has no immediate words. "Are quiet days not the best?" Alunoriel ventures based on her own fragmentary memories. "Excitement seems to bring with it so much trouble and heartbreak. I feel sure a life where one could look back and say 'Every day was uneventful' is bound to be have also been the happiest lived. Wouldn't you agree?"
<Franceska> "I'm not sure," Franceska admits. "Admittedly, my views are colored by Rosemund's need to go out there on all sorts of quests and not feeling settled unless she's properly protected. Maybe once it's all over?" She shrugs. "Whatever my situation might be, I'm glad you're living the life you wish here."
<El-Cideon> Alunoriel strolls upslope towards her tree. "It pleases me to see you all doing well," she says. "Is there anything at all I might do to assist your efforts? I fear I may not have properly demonstrated my gratitude for removing me from my...previous home," she concludes, searching through scattered recollections of her past existence and finding them wanting.
<Franceska> "Not right now," Franceska responds, and with a glance at Grey asks, "What do you think about musical instruments? Is there one that you particularly like, or know how to play?"
<El-Cideon> "Singing is best," Alunoriel confidently affirms. "It is an outburst that wells up right from the soul itself, with no artificialities of expression intruding between the spirit and the art. But the harp has a soothing air as well, does it not?" she adds. Then, with fragile smile: "For myself, if I knew an art once, I know it not now."
<Franceska> "Singing would go well with a harp," Franceska muses. "Perhaps it could be a chance for you to rediscover it, and some more about yourself? I can provide for the harp, of course."
<El-Cideon> "Oh, but perhaps I could do this after all," Alunoriel brightens up with the chance to be helpful. She lays a loving hand on the trunk of her tree. "I think that I could form the frame of the instrument quite painlessly, if you give me some time."
* Franceska considered the possibility, though it is quite useful to have it offered without overt prompting. "It really is a shame that you cannot easily leave your tree beyond a certain point," she says.
<El-Cideon> "I have seen other worlds," Alunoriel says with enough certainty in this recollection. "It does not pain me to be rooted in this one." Grey, intruding with some determination, offers, "Perhaps I could learn to play it with you? Or one of us could play and one of us could sing."
<Franceska> Having set it up that way, Franceska nods with approval at the initiative, however belated.
<El-Cideon> Alunoriel smiles brightly. "I would be very happy to try. We shall have to get to work on the instrument the moment you depart."
~
<El-Cideon> A cool, dewy spring evening falls over Amaranth as the city's finest wandering problem solvers gather in Franceska's home to await the arrival of the many friends they've made over the past year. Already present are Grey--dressed in a pristine maid's uniform and ready to serve the may exotic intoxicants Stephanie provided to whomsoever might require refreshment. One with an eye on the clock might note without surprise that it is precisely at the advertised turning of eight o'clock that there is the first, and distinctly mechanical, rap upon the door.
<Julia> "You can always count on Ron to be on time, can't you?" Julia says with a smile as she lingers in the kitchen having arrived earlier to help get things ready.
<Steph> Stephanie's cobalt dress seems a bit tight around the knees, but neither it nor the enormous green bow attached to her waist seem to stop her sashaying about. A ribbon of red is tied onto one of her horns. Her tail, however, has escaped any form of adornment, perhaps being an accessory in its own right. "You can. I want to study the effect of alcohol on the mechanical mind," the tiefling
<Steph> says. "Gosh, it's been a long time since I bothered to leave the adventuring gear at home. I certainly hope we don't have any gatecrashers."
* Franceska does a final check on her silver-white dress and nods to herself. "They will rue the day they break into my home, no doubt," she tells Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund, dressed for once in a modest and tasteful gown rather than the austerity of her armor, whispers nervously to Stephanie, "Is it a *requirement* that we all get drunk? I have not been to many parties," she admits.
<El-Cideon> Grey dutifully opens the door. There is a modron outside--someone, perhaps as a jest, has advised him to don a bowtie--and some steps behind arrives Calixta dressed with usual monkish restraint. A rugged-looking, blond human man with the look of an off-duty guard accompanies her.
<El-Cideon> "The hour of festivities has arrived?" Ron asks for confirmation.
<Steph> "It is, ah... well, it is not a requirement, per se, but I have never been able to enjoy a party I wasn't drunk at. In fact, all the fun would be sapped away by having to be around drunk people."
<Julia> "I'm sure you can do some damage with the tableware," Julia laughs a little at Stephanie's worries. She's unsurprisingly in black, wearing a plain but well fitting little dress. As guests arrive she drifts from the kitchen towards the hallway to greet them.
<Franceska> "It is," Franceska tells Ron as she meets him in the foyer before nodding at Calixta in greeting. "I'm glad you could come."
<El-Cideon> Ron trundles on in as Calixta responds formally, "It was suggested that we bring guests. This is Captain Everard, the commanding officer at my guard station."
<Steph> Stephanie hisses from within the room, but quickly transforms it into a cough.
<Franceska> A date, really, not guests. But there's not much difference, Franceska muses to herself. "A pleasure," she voices, holding out her hand to the captain. "I am Franceska Durant."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund, acquiring a glass of local wine (it seeming the simplest, most respectable beverage available to her), peers at Stephanie. "Are you alright?"
<El-Cideon> The captain shakes Franceska's hand, and even leans to kiss it in gentlemanly fashion. "Calixta speaks well of you, Miss Durant," he says, sounding as though this runs contrary to some established preconceptions.
<Steph> "I'm alright, Rosemund," Stephanie says. "But that awful man, he is a criminal investigator. You must be resolute should he ask you any questions."
<El-Cideon> As the new guests remove light coats and hand them over to Grey for safekeeping, the wrapped silhouette of Alice sneaks in with natural quietness behind them.
<Julia> "Surely we haven't committed any crimes of note here at home," Julia says reassuringly, somehow dismissing her own necromantic and demon summoning habits.
<El-Cideon> "I have nothing to be ashamed of at all!" Rosemund insists.
<Steph> "Yes, but that's only because he hasn't spoken to you yet! They have a talent!"
<Franceska> "I'm glad to hear that," Franceska responds, inclining her head at Alice in greeting and then leading them over to the lounge. "She also mentioned to me how much she enjoys her post and the people she works with."
<El-Cideon> "So did Auntie Leah," Rosemund recalls with some lingering awe.
<Steph> "The key is to avoid eye contact, and thus avoid a conversation in the first place. You can't escape one if he looks at you, though."
<El-Cideon> "Oh, I know!" Rosemund remembers. "You could never lie when she was looking straight at you. Not that I had much to lie about."
<Julia> Rather than continue to natter on about the perils of law enforcement, Julia breaks away from Stephanie and Rosemund so she can say hello and introduce herself to the guests.
<El-Cideon> Calixta and her date sit down on a sofa opposite Stephanie and Rosemund. Each accepts a fireale from Grey when prompted. "She is a merciless taskmistress," the captain says approvingly in response to Franceska.
<El-Cideon> The captain gives Alice a distinctly suspect look as the shadow woman slips unobtrusively into a chair behind a corner table and begins to fiddle with her cards.
<Steph> "But I bet it felt as though you did," ruminates Stephanie, taking up a glass of wine in her own right. "W, well, I suppose he may just be here to have fun with the rest of us," she admits, before briefly freezing up as he and Calixta sit nearby.
<El-Cideon> "It did!" Rosemund confirms with a whisper.
* Franceska hides her satisfied smile behind a wine glass.
<El-Cideon> As everyone settles in to minding their behavior around the local representatives of law enforcement, there's another knock on the door!
<Steph> "Oh, I shall get it for you, Franceska!" says Stephanie, suddenly on her feet and walking towards the door.
<El-Cideon> It's Ione--the medusa's ivory gown could shame royalty, but it's mostly hidden from view as she's cloaked and hooded against the casual scrutiny of locals. Behind her is an array of elven men and women dressed formally in black, most with instrument cases at hand. "Rosemund did not mention whether there would be music. Since there can be no celebration without music, I brought my own," she explains.
<Steph> "My, you made it! Well, we will clear an appropriate space for you," says Stephanie, smiling at the unit of musicians present. "And I will prepare an appropriate reward for this unexpected thoughtfulness," she adds, with a wink.
<El-Cideon> "Dare I ask?" Ione asks as she walks in. Her cloak is handed off to Grey but the veil, of course, stays on. The band finds the emptiest corner of the lounge and goes about breaking out instruments and tuning up. "My ward unfortunately was not yet well enough to attend," she adds. "I'm hesitant to experiment too adventurously with such an unusual condition."
<Steph> "I understand. Has there been any progress? On either of your special cases?" asks Stephanie, lingering for a moment herself. Better to talk about this heavy matter out here, instead of in the lounge.
<El-Cideon> The captain, alarmed but staying seated based on the ease of everyone else's acceptance of this bizarre new guest, observes stiffly, "Well, Calixta said you would have many unusual friends..."
<Julia> "Oh yes," Julia says brightly, "We meet such interesting people on our travels. And only the nicest have been invited here today, you needn't worry."
<Franceska> "The planes have a great deal of strangeness, and even more possibility for such encounters," Franceska muses. "Say, have you done much training against hostile mages?"
<El-Cideon> "The Queen is a poor hand at chess," Ione says. "Both of them. They are communicating, grudgingly. I think it too early to predict any reasonable accomodation between the two of them. But it was mostly Miss Alcembron I spoke of. I shall have to find some means of extracting the memories from our spare gem and transferring them to a willing subject before I risk tampering with her own." She smiles, that much of her face at least always visible. "But I am sure there are more cheerful things to be spoken of in the here and now?"
<El-Cideon> The captain shakes his head. "Only insofar as they may be involved with siegecraft," he says with professional confidence. "Our more usual quarry are thieves and murderers."
* Franceska takes some effort not to look at Stephanie at that.
<El-Cideon> Ione accepts a brandy from Grey and then, as if sensing some discomfort at her presence, takes the empty seat on the sofa next to the guards. Her snakes hiss congenially at the captain, who shifts a little closer to his companion.
<Franceska> "It is good to see you again, Ione," Franceska greets her, before introducing her to Calixta and her date.
<El-Cideon> "Most of her," the captain is obliged to mutter under his breath. Calixta finds it necessary to upbraid him by observing, "She has considerately adopted a state safe for social interaction."
<El-Cideon> "Ione only turns awful people into stone," Rosemund confirms. "Or ones that try to kill her."
<Steph> Stephanie accompanies her, smiling briefly at the captain from behind her wine glass. "Now, Captain, there's no need to be worried. Ione takes exceptional care," she notes. "It is the invisible dangers you have to worry about," she adds. "Many of the guests we have invited are both competent and strong, in ways that are not apparent at first glance."
<El-Cideon> "I find that one sterling example set in stone serves to deter most future assailants," Ione affirms with a smile.
<El-Cideon> As warm-up scales flutter about in the background from the band's corner, there's a cheerful rap on the door!
<Julia> "I'll get this one," Julia volunteers, striding out into the hall to do the greeting thing while Grey presumably opens it.
<Steph> Stephanie collapses into one of the armchairs. "If there is an accident, we will of course ensure that the resultant statue will find pride of place on Franceska's lawn," she adds. "We couldn't do anything less for a friend, after all."
<El-Cideon> "Or I could always reverse the petrification," Rosemund counters helpfully. "I have done it before! Er, not because of Ione."
<Franceska> "It would be most unfortunate if today of all days my home got broken into," Franceska notes. "It would need to be someone quite suicidal."
<Steph> "Yes, I owe Rosemund a debt that will be difficult to repay," admits Stephanie, sighing. "But I won't say being turned to stone was a wholly unpleasant experience in its own right. I suppose it's a possible form of immortality..."
<Franceska> "It was a pleasant experience for all," Franceska agrees.
<El-Cideon> Mercedes is at the door, wearing a white and gold gown slit in front past her navel. Charlotte is with her, dressed more like a respectable tradesman, and accompanying them are two men dressed in immaculately tailored black suits: one is a handsome, chiseled human man with brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard and mustache, whereas the other is a beautiful elven man with a striking aristocratic countenance and a more masculine demeanor than usually expected of his kind. "You can't have a party without boys, so I brought some of my own," Mercedes says. "Gregoire and Thalasir," she introduces the men as they bow in turn. Trailing behind the group at some remove, as if to suggest disassociation, is Brenna, dressed in a simple homespun tunic.
<El-Cideon> "Is that so?" Ione asks with interest, leaning in towards Stephanie. "You know, I've never had opportunity to ask someone what it was like."
<Julia> "Ahh, how lovely to see you both!" Julia smiles at Mercedes and Charlotte, before giving their dates a look over, "And your fine boys of course, please come in, everyone's just getting settled in the lounge." Then she cranes her neck a bit to see Brenna, "Hello Brenna, come on in. The party's just getting started."
<Steph> "It is like being on the verge of waking up from a dream," replies Stephanie, cricking her neck. "I didn't even realise what had happened until afterwards, of course. Afterwards, however, I felt a new solidity in my balance, and my hands. It's much easier for me to concentrate nowadays, and I can call upon that mentality to resist intrusions to the mind."
<El-Cideon> "We're not officially on the job, so you needn't expect any charge if they take an interest," Mercedes singsongs charitably as she sweeps in and makes her way straight to the bar. A moment of distracton at the tiefling madam's scandalous attire nearly sees Grey shut the door on Brenna before yanking it back open with a muttered apology for the white-haired adventurer. "It's nice to see the sky again," Brenna allows as she slips in, looking a mite uncomfortable with the growing crowd. "I'd almost forgotten it."
* Franceska stands up to get a fresh drink, and picks another to hand over to Brenna as she steps into the lounge.
<El-Cideon> "Perhaps we should recommend it for all those of scholarly disposition?" Ione ventures. "It does seem to lend a certain focusing effect."
<Julia> "Come nightfall you might want to spend some time in the garden admiring the stars?" Julia suggests to Brenna, since that's when the sky's most interesting in her mind.
<El-Cideon> "Ah, thank you for your hospitality," Brenna says, accepting the drink and giving her traveling companions a decent berth as they descend on the party to mingle.
<Franceska> "A pleasure to see you again after so long," Franceska says, asking curiously, "What have you been up to?"
<El-Cideon> Rosemund is soon flanked on her sofa by extraordinarily pretty male courtesans and finds herself devoid of words. She attends to her wine instead.
<Steph> "For scholars? Haha, I suppose you could be right. I was thinking that it could be useful for swordsmen," replies Stephanie. "I think that I will try my hand at teaching one of these days."
<El-Cideon> "The sword is not my specific instrument of expertise," Calixta says. "We may have use for another instructor."
<Julia> Grabbing a glass of sherry of some mysterious planar origin, Julia soon decamps herself back in the lounge. "So how's life been back in Peridot?" she asks Mercedes and Charlotte. "Quiet, I hope?"
<El-Cideon> "Oh, I help out a little around the temple," Brenna says, settling into a corner. "And I patrol around town, in case the dao decide to execute reprisals in some way. They haven't yet."
<Franceska> "But you think they would, eventually?"
<El-Cideon> "We've got a new mayor," Charlotte says approvingly.
<Steph> "Ah, when I say 'teaching', I'm not thinking of instructing a unit," admits Stephanie. "I might take on two or three pupils who don't mind trying something different. It's not about rote forms, you know?"
<El-Cideon> "They are prideful, and so long as there's money to be made in the effort of subjugation..." Brenna observes with distaste.
<El-Cideon> "Ah, a mentor," Calixta concludes.
<Franceska> "So the best bet is to make the prospect too costly to attempt, I take it?"
<El-Cideon> Brenna nods. "The town seems more united to keep them out now, at least, having seen them thrown out once before."
<Steph> "I wouldn't mind it! My dad taught me like that, while we were travelling around the country," replies Stephanie. "So sometime in the future, I wouldn't mind doing the same sort of thing. Yep, that's the best life, always going over the next hill."
<El-Cideon> "I am not sure," Rosemund says. "I will be very happy to settle down here someday! When our work is all done. And I feel like we will have seen almost everywhere by then!"
<Franceska> "And then, there are the trade caravans accompanied by armed guards," Franceska muses.
<Steph> "Places change, Rosie! So no matter how much you travel, there will always be something new to see!"
<El-Cideon> Brenna nods again. "It's a necessity of business, so I gather. Of course, the new mayor is very aggressive about security. She has many guards in her employ, after all."
<El-Cideon> Ron, lacking evident talent for mingling, has retreated to Alice's corner table to observe her readings.
<El-Cideon> "Perhaps so, Stephanie, but there are many places I am not so eager to see again at all," Rosemund says.
<Franceska> "It does create a sort of efficiency that makes running things quite simple."
<Steph> Stephanie nods lightly to her, but then her eyes trail towards the two men sitting on either side. "Greg and Thal, was it?" she asks. "I'd guess that you two weren't born in Peridot, so you must have been travellers as well at one point, hmm?"
<El-Cideon> "I was born on Earth," the human, Gregoire says with a rich baritone. "Not in Peridot. I worked under a variety of dao masters before being acquired and liberated by my current, and much more enlightened, employer." "I've seen my share of the planes," Thalasir says with musical fluidity. "I've made a point to see the forested ones, at least."
<Steph> "But you chose to settle on Earth?"
<El-Cideon> "Ah, Miss Mercedes contracted me specifically to fill a certain niche," the elf says. "You've no idea of the demand!" Mercedes says, gesturing with her wineglass. "Men and women."
<El-Cideon> As the band launches into a background medley, there's another knock at the door!
<Franceska> "Excuse me for a moment," Franceska tells Brenna, and decides to see to the most recent guest.
<El-Cideon> "I must say," Brenna admits quietly in parting to Franceska with a wrinkle of her nose, "were it my home, I'd not have been so quick to invite prostitutes."
<El-Cideon> Marina is standing outside, wearing one of her own tailored dresses of forest green and ocean blue. Her familiar, Canterbury, maintains a firm and evidently painful grip on her shoulder. Marcus is at her side, dressed in a flowery tunic that ill suits him but which his tailor and chaperone must have insisted upon.
<Franceska> "Hello there," Franceska says, ushering them in with a smile. "It wasn't too difficult to make it here, I trust?"
<Steph> "Yes, I suppose you need to cater to unique tastes," says Stephanie, rising and walking to accompany Mercedes at the bar. "You were certainly right. We've hardly invited any boys at all," she notes. "I'm hoping to talk the musicians into joining us after the third or fourth tune."
<El-Cideon> Marina greets Franceska with a friendly hug. "Oh, not so much. Your countryside isn't that different from my own, you know. I thought about bringing Ailara with us, but as you may know she's hardly fond of civilization." Marcus, bowing, adds, "And a mass blinding of your guests wouldn't do much for your reputation, I figure."
<El-Cideon> Mercedes eyes up the band. "I see a couple I could happily talk into a dance, at the least."
<El-Cideon> "So what have you girls been up to since turning our town upside down?" Charlotte asks Julia. "Been up to mischief elsewhere, I'm sure?"
<Steph> "I'm sure they didn't come all the way to another plane just for work," agrees Stephanie.
<Franceska> "Perhaps another time, in a more private setting?" Franceska muses.
<El-Cideon> "Of course, neither did I," Mercedes adds with a grin. More seriously: "So I see you're doing without the disguise these days. You know, I caught some black looks on my way here."
<El-Cideon> "Perhaps so," Marina says, sweeping in as Grey shuts the door behind her. "I shall have to suggest it. She's delightful company," she adds with a wistful, distant look.
<Julia> "Oh, we've been lots of places," Julia says. "You remember those mercenaries that wrecked the casino? They're from a town in Air called Azure, that's where we met Ione over there," she gestures to the Medusa. "There was this old haunted asylum we got to clean out, then we wound up going to the Abyss," she winces a little, "The rain there was the worst I've ever experienced."
<Franceska> "Some more ale for our guests, if you please," Franceska asks of Grey, leading Marina and Marcus inside. "And something for Canterbury, perhaps?"
<Steph> "I have to test the waters," admits Stephanie, lowering her voice. "There are people with much more problematic appearances than myself around. They will see the result of me walking around before they need to make a decision. Mmm, and, to be honest, I realised that if I do get run out of town, there are actually many places to go that can be more accomodating." She pours herself another
<Steph> glass. "Not that I would be happy with that result," she admits.
<El-Cideon> "'Rain?'" Charlotte echoes as though recalling a word encountered once in a book maybe. "Moisture falling from the air," she affirms with a wry expression. "Well, that is a terrifying concept."
<El-Cideon> "Yes, please," Marina says, perhaps too quickly transferring the bird to Grey's stewardship. Eventually, she manages to perch the tropical avian on a mug of beer and go about serving the humanoid guests a fresh round.
<Julia> "It was more like cooking fat in the Abyss," Julia says disgustedly. "It wasn't all bad though. We met some interesting demons and killed a fallen angel - I've got him back at home actually. His home was a maze that took all our clothes off when we entered. Nasty business."
<El-Cideon> "I can't imagine what manner of business might have got such a deviant kicked out of heaven," Charlotte says drily.
<El-Cideon> "You've done more than enough for Peridot to turn a blind eye," Mercedes assures Stephanie. "If it should come to that. After all, they do tolerate me."
<Franceska> It doesn't feel like a very good party if some people are just off on their own in a corner, and Franceska decides to lead Marina and Marcus over to Brenna. She'll think about Alice later.
<El-Cideon> Marina is gregarious as ever and keen to introduce herself and Marcus. Brenna does brighten up on being told where the sorceress hails from, at least.
<Julia> "Haha, just so," Julia laughs, gesturing with her glass. "He was one of those arrogant stuck up ones too. He's much more congenial now at least. We even killed his girlfriend when we found her causing trouble back on Azure during our absence. Though we're still dealing with the trouble she caused, it's probably worked out alright in the end. You should ask Rosemund about that though, not
<Julia> me."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund, left to her own devices with Mercedes's professonal companions, has out of desperation struck up an awkward discourse on the merits of Pelor's service and the good deeds done for the city on his behalf.
<El-Cideon> Charlotte's eyes flick over to Rosemund. "She looks rather engaged at the moment."
<Steph> "I could run my business out of Peridot," reasons Stephanie, before peering over at Rosemund. "Ah, oh no. Poor dear," she says, cupping her chin. "But your companions should be able to handle a few awkward topics, no? Come to think of it, that must be half the job."
<El-Cideon> "You can't have any idea," Mercedes says with a laugh. "Fear not, she's in good hands. And other associated parts."
<Steph> "If it goes further than talk, I may not be able to guarantee the lives of your employees... I mean, not that there is anything wrong with flirting, but certain concerned individuals have no sense of adventure or humor."
<El-Cideon> "Please, they'll not take advantage," Mercedes assures Stephanie. "And I should think your friend capable of making her own decisions, come what may."
<Julia> "The night's young, I'm sure you'll have a chance to chat at some point," Julia shrugs, reaching over to grab one of the nibbles she prepared before the party, a bit of spicy seasoned meat and a small chunk of fruit on a small stick so as to keep the hands from getting stained.
<Franceska> "My companions and I often discuss which plane is the worst to ever set foot on," Franceska muses during a lull in their conversation. "Yet I rarely spend time thinking on the places worth visiting out there. Air, for example, has been generally pleasant to travel through."
<Steph> "Rosemund? Oh, yes, very mature in some ways, but at the same time..." Stephanie laughs. "I won't worry about it any further, though. Come! Let us go and see your fortune, Madame."
<El-Cideon> "There is a dearth of trees, isn't there?" Brenna says. "Oh, there is such on Earth as well, but the temple grounds are ever a comfort."
<El-Cideon> "Oh yes?" Mercedes says with interest, ready to follow.
<Steph> Stephanie troops over to Alice. "Alice, Alice, tell our fortunes?" she asks, cheerfully. "Oh, Ron! This is Mercedes. She's an expert in the techniques for the creation of life."
<Franceska> "I believe I saw a few at, yes, a temple," Franceska responds. "Still, there is a certain sense of freedom that Earth sadly lacks."
<El-Cideon> "It does instill a feeling of being...enclosed," Brenna admits.
<Franceska> "It got me wondering about other planes that would be a delight to visit. Astral, perhaps?"
<El-Cideon> "That's something we try to manage very carefully," Mercedes says seriously. "Such forces are usually reserved for greater deities," Ron says. "My own efforts have provided only rudimentary success."
<El-Cideon> This statement has the effect of rendering Mercedes momentarily speechless.
<El-Cideon> Gregoire rises to retrieve some of Julia's painstakingly prepared snacks, and perhaps relieve the conversational burden on poor, flustered Rosemund. "Compliments to the chef," he allows after a moment.
<Steph> "Ah, so they have. But you shouldn't be shy about taking insights wherever you can find it," says Stephanie, smiling cheerily. "Alice, can you tell our fortunes?"
<El-Cideon> Alice unwraps her right hand, and offers it for the first willing guest.
<El-Cideon> As she does so, there's another knock on the door!
<Julia> "Thank you," Julia beams at him. "There's some sweets and more substantial food in the dining room as well if you're hungry for more."
<Steph> "Oh, it's my turn," says Stephanie, standing up and walking to the door.
<El-Cideon> There's a surprised yelp from Mercedes as she takes Alice's hand, which draws some concerned glances before the shadow woman shrugs apologetically and starts dealing the cards.
<El-Cideon> The knocking at the door continues insistently until it's opened. On the other side are a pair of pixies--without their masks, for once. Thalia and Melpomene are almost disappointingly plain in appearance after all that time flying about masked, at least insofar as a fairy with pointed ears might be perceived as plain. They might as well be twins, yet each seems to echo in her natural expression that of her accustomed mask. "Hey, you don't have a full house yet!" Thalia observes cheerfully. "That's good, we brought some people." Behind the pair is a gaggle of locals with the handsome look and flashy attire of actors painting the town red.
<Steph> "It is okay! This house can handle at least three times as many people! Did you bring any drinks?"
<El-Cideon> "What?!" she says, shocked. "That's your job! No quality party's BYOB."
<El-Cideon> "Sweets are for dessert, but thank you for the offer" Gregoire ruminates. "One should always save the best for last."
<El-Cideon> "Astral?" Marina echoes Fran. "Isn't it awfully empty?"
<Steph> "But it's customary!" protests Stephanie. "I don't have any fae wine in store," she admits. "The nymphs and dryads, they don't sell, it's aggravating!" She ushers them inside regardless, smiling at the actors.
<Franceska> "I like to think of it as a plane of opportunities," Franceska muses, spotting Grey and signaling her over. "If matters of travel depend entirely on your perception, perhaps you might with a bit more effort reshape parts of the environment to be more to your liking? Ah, but what other suggestions would you have? Something you've yet to visit but wouldn't mind doing so?"
<El-Cideon> "Human wine's good enough," Thalia allows as her and her crowd flood in past an overwhelmed Grey. "Look, you want the good fairy stuff, you tell me next time, I'll set you up. Anyway, this here's Trafford, he's the company director--" she gestures to an affable, but reserved and scholarly older man, "--and the big handsome lout with the red hair is Merritt, he's our leading man most of the time."
<El-Cideon> Grey shuffles over and curtseys obediently. "Yes, Miss Durant?" she says. Marina, after some thought, replies, "Water sounds exotic if one can avoid drowning. Or the Beastlands? Rather like home, but *wilder*, or so I hear."
<Steph> "How do you do? I can't say we've had the time to see any of your shows. It's really quite regretful," Stephanie gushes. "Are there many roles suitable for a pair of pixies?"
<Franceska> "Some refreshments might be in order," Franceska notes, before pursing her lips. "Do let me know if you need a break, and I will arrange for it."
<El-Cideon> "Oh, there aren't, and you missed Mel's big dramatic debut!" Thalia complains. "Parts are kinda limited for us here, you know? You definitely don't get the romantic ones. Hey, you don't get much romance at all! We're just too small for most humans to take an interest." "Only the creepy ones," Melpomene adds mournfully.
<Franceska> Returning her attention to Marina, Franceska voices, "I should manage us traveling to Water easily enough, and the Beastlands was a destination I considered. I suppose it's not too bad, even if is sounds a bit primal." She glances at Marcus and Brenna for their own opinions.
<Steph> "Are you actually looking for romance? Is it the springtime of your fairy youth?" Stephanie frowns. "I always thought, if it's fae, it's probably older than me by at least a hundred years."
<El-Cideon> "It sounds nearly ideal to me," Brenna says with a smile. Marcus, for his part, professes, "Prefer the noise of the city, myself. Grew up a city boy, you know, twenty years in a cage didn't change that any." He's obliged to view the new arrivals with a slight frown.
<Franceska> "Mechanus, perhaps?" Franceska wonders. "I heard bad things about it, but judging the entire plane by the actions of a few might not be the best of ideas."
<El-Cideon> "Well, you know, I wouldn't complain if it found me," Thalia says. "But hey, seriously, next time Mel gets a chance to play the black queen, you guys gotta be here for it. I don't care where you are at the time, work it out!"
<Julia> "I don't know about that," Julia says as she appears by Franceska. "The sound of all those gears constantly grinding must be a pain."
<Franceska> "Is it really? Or would you ignore them as you might a clock after a while?"
<El-Cideon> "I could do with a look," Marcus allows. "It'd be a novel thing, at the least."
<Steph> "Then you need to tell us! You need to get a mage to cast a sending for you, and then we'll definitely show up. Hehe, I suppose there should be a spell that allows you to instantly summon this capable and beautiful soldier of justice to your side, though~"
<El-Cideon> Grey disappears and shortly returns to Franceska's group with a tray of assorted drinks. Marcus carefully lifts a mug of ale; Marina opts for a glass of firey spirits; Brenna refrains.
<El-Cideon> "Yeah, we'll definitely talk to someone about that," Thalia says. "We'll find you next time, rain, shine or hellfire!"
<Franceska> Fiery spirits sound like the way to go. It might as well be a chance for Franceska to find out how much she can drink in one evening.
<Steph> "For now, let's get those drinks!" says Stephanie, wandering to the bar anew.
<Julia> "I suppose anything becomes routine given time. Then the silence might get to you when you leave," Julia muses before going to refresh her sherry... or just find a different drink.
<El-Cideon> There's certainly no shortage of wild and exotic beverages wrangled from who-knows-where by Stephanie! There's vigorous mead from Ysgard, a variety of nearly pure primal elements distilled to liquid form, even a few dubious, bubbling fiendish liquors.
<El-Cideon> Julia finds Ione perusing the liquor selection. "Did I hear correctly that you're keeping our malefactor at your home?" she says with a mix of amusement and bewilderment.
<Steph> "Ooh, we should try a cocktail," says Stephanie, starting to mix together the primal elements of creation into a glass.
<El-Cideon> Some of them don't like associating with one another! Stephanie's creation boils ominously.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund has been persuaded to join her companion in a lively dance before the band.
<Julia> "Oh yes," Julia nods, leaning closer to lower her voice. "Angels make good minions, but doing so is bound to attract unwanted attention. But no one cares about a fallen one, yes?"
<El-Cideon> "Just so long as he'll get up to no more trouble than you direct him to?" Ione says, somewhat worriedly.
<Steph> "Franceska, would you care to try my latest creation?" asks Stephanie, glancing at it for a moment.
<Franceska> "I suppose there is no harm in it. What do you call it?"
<Julia> "Oh he's quite docile," Julia assures her. "Really it's trouble my familiar directs him into that's more worrying. Luckily Thing seems to ignore him most of the time." Or at least she only ever finds him playing with the cats or Friday.
<Steph> Stephanie ponders that for a moment. "I'm going to call it the Pinnacle," she decides, pouring half of it into another glass and passing it to Franceska.
<Franceska> "Cheers," Franceska says, accepting the glass and drinking from it.
<El-Cideon> "Familiars seem to be nettlesome creatures," Ione says. "I wonder whether they're really worth the bother. Do you not spend more time minding them than benefiting from their assistance?" As if on cue, Canterbury bites her hand and flaps off to perch atop a cello.
<Steph> Stephanie does likewise!
<Julia> "Yes," Julia is forced to sigh here. "He's very useful for delivering spells to creatures I don't want to get close to, but given our travel arrangements and the limitation on passengers for a plane shift, I'm forced to leave him at home more often than not. And he always seems to get into some mischief when I come back... though this time he was at least attempting to express his artistic
<Julia> side."
<El-Cideon> It burns! And melts! And cools and churns all at once! Franceska's gut is instantly transformed into a roiling cauldron of all the elements of creation. After a long, distracting moment of assimilation, it fades from a burning presence to a persistent glow the spreads all throughout her midsection and, if one can fight past the initial shock, imparts a pleasing sense of lassitutde. Stephanie's fiendish resistance might inure her somewhat to the initial discomfort, but not fully.
<El-Cideon> Ione somehow conveys the impression of raising an eyebrow at this development even without such anatomy being visible.
<El-Cideon> It's at this opportune moment of accelerating inebriation that there is a firm knock upon the door.
<Julia> "He was making a sculpture of me," Julia elaborates. "It wasn't the best resemblance but still I choose to take it as a compliment."
<Franceska> "It doesn't seem a very good drink," Franceska gasps, blinking rapidly.
<El-Cideon> "Mm," Ione muses. "Well, I tend to maintain that the arts should be nurtured in all their forms...admittedly I never quite grasped the value of the fiendish varieties, however."
<Steph> "I, I feel this this is what waking up with someone must feel like," replies Stephanie, dazedly.
<El-Cideon> "But you don't know?" Marina says with surprise.
<El-Cideon> Brenna inclines her chin with approval at this mixed display of virtue.
<Julia> "Anyway, I'd best get the door since everyone else is distracted," Julia excuses herself to go greet whoever's there.
<Steph> "I'm going to have another one," Stephanie decides, turning to the bar and ignoring Marina.
<El-Cideon> "Are you quite alright?" Ione asks with some good humor at Stephanie's momentarily unsteady gait.
<Franceska> "I prefer the mead, I think?" Franceska says uncertainly as she follows Stephanie to take the Ysgardian brew. She then decides to just load a tray with a glass for everyone and returns to her group.
<El-Cideon> Vigilia is at the door. She's dressed more conservatively than usual, in a monkish white tunic that covers her down to mid-thigh, but her fiery mane streams back freely in the evening breeze. "Ah, this is the correct residence, good," she nods in affirmation. Her remaining celestial companion emits a cheery "Hi!" and a pulse of light from beside her.
<Steph> "I am quite alright, Ione, I am a creature of all four elements," declares Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> "Are you?" the medusa asks curiously.
<Julia> "Hello both of you!" Julia smiles welcomingly at the pair. "Come on in, most everyone's in the lounge," she bids, seeing no coats for Grey to have to take.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund and her partner conclude their impromptu performance and the young priestess splits off to mingle more, stumbling over toward Franceska with flushed expression.
<Steph> "That's what the painting said. And you know what?" says Stephanie, turning to Ione and swirling around another concoction of elemental nightmares. "I've already internalized the powers of earth and fire! Once I master air and water, my apotheosis will be complete!"
<Franceska> "Rosemund! Here!" Franceska greets her brightly, offering her some of Ysgard's finest ale.
<El-Cideon> "Is this your goal for the evening?" Ione wonders idly.
<Steph> "Yes... yes! That's a good idea!" decides Stephanie. "I was a bit scared because the process might kill me, but now that you mention it, there's no better time," she adds, reaching into her dress and producing a small vial.
<El-Cideon> Vigilia sidles in, evidencing some unease at the noise and bustle of the party as the house is packed ever more full of revelers (who by now are begining to spill in groups toward the kitchen or upstairs). "I am not accustomed to this sort of affair," she admits, awkward posture muting somewhat her natural height.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund gladly takes the mug. "Oh, thank you, Franceska! Dancing stirs up a great thirst, does it not?" She happily tosses back a deep swallow.
<El-Cideon> Ione takes a step back, as if anticipating a catastrophic chemical reaction.
<Julia> "Don't worry, I don't think most of us are either," Julia confides quietly. "But we're muddling through anyway. Come on and I'll introduce you to Alice, see if we can get your fortune told!"
<Franceska> "I don't really dance," Franceska admits. "But it must, yes." She drinks heavily from her own mug, and after making sure the tray is stable offers the rest to the others.
<Steph> Surely nothing will go wrong, Stephanie decides, before imbibing the draught of air that she was saving for a special occasion.
<El-Cideon> "That sounds harmless enough an endeavor," Vigilia allows, letting herself be led to the corner table for the time being. Mercedes's reading is concluding as you arrive: in a ring are cards demonstrating obvious material merits of wealth, pleasure and companionship; there is nothing distinctly unnerving about the tiefling's reading, though central to the ring she was dealt is the blurry but knowing image of an unidentified stranger.
<El-Cideon> "Oh, but you should try!" Rosemund says enthusiastically to Franceska. "Thal is really quite a talented dancer."
<Julia> "Does this mean you'll meet a tall dark man who'll sweep you off your feet?" Julia asks, leaning over to peer at the cards. "Vigilia, this is Mercedes, and Alice," she belatedly provides some introductions.
<Franceska> "I don't really want to dance with a stranger," Franceska decides to tell her diplomatically, after a glance over.
<El-Cideon> "That much is guaranteed," Mercedes deadpans. "Pleasure to meet you, Vigilia. Might I compliment you upon your fantastic hair?"
<El-Cideon> Stephanie's essence alters in the blink of an eye--she remains fundamentally a physical being, but there is a wispy, colorless, faintly translucent look to her.
<El-Cideon> "Was that meant to happen?" Ione says worriedly.
<El-Cideon> "But that is a fine way to stop being a stranger!" Rosemund says, taking Franceska by the hand and tugging her (gently, undemandingly) in the direction of the band.
<Steph> Stephanie giggles, and then floats off the ground. "Sure!" she replies, hovering over Ione.
* Franceska gives Marina and Marcus a panicked look as she's dragged away.
<El-Cideon> "Thank you, I suppose," Vigilia says, not sounding accustomed to or greatly at ease with compliments to her appearance. "Hey, sit down and take a turn," Mercedes insists as Alice sweeps up the cards. "It hurts for a second, I should tell you first." Vigilia's archon companion buzzes around by Julia. "Hey, we went home and I asked about that saint you wanted to know about!" Tiel chirps.
<El-Cideon> "It is not difficult!" Rosemund promises Franceska, maneuvering her into the gyrating actors' troupe. "You just...move around to the music. Try it!"
<Julia> "Oh yes, Griselda Harcourt wasn't it?" Julia asks the archon while Vigilia settles in for her fortune. "Did you find out anything good?"
<Franceska> "Fine." Franceska ducks her head, then takes a deep breath and places a hand on Rosemund's hip. "Just one dance, then. You will need to lead. I promise to do my best."
<El-Cideon> Vigilia bears the moment's discomfort that comes of Alice's touch with commendable fortitude, and then the living shadow rifles through the deck to go to work. "I am not sure if 'good' is the word," Tiel says. "She was a good person, but she was murdered by her daughter! She had three of them and brought all of them into the priesthood with her...but one of them killed her later." The little archon fluctuates agitatedly. "It was all a very long time ago so it is difficult to be sure why she did this. I think that she was probably very ambitious and there was some betrayal when she did not advance as high as she wished to. Anyway, there is no reason at all for Griselda's soul to be in the Abyss. She went straight to Celestia!"
<El-Cideon> "I thought that probably you would dance with a man who knows what he is doing, but okay, I will try my best," Rosemund says. She attempts to lead Franceska through an energetic jig, with middling success; there are some trod feet and jostled actors about the floor in your wake.
<Franceska> It goes about as well as she expected, Franceska muses, but at least there is no large spectacle and no head-on collisions. Those would be the worst. In the end, she even has fun, she thinks!
<Julia> "Well, perhaps we ought to broaden our search to include the daughters... the treacherous one at least in particular," Julia hums. "Do you know what her name was, or what happened to her?"
<El-Cideon> "Meredith, she was caught after she tried to have some low friends of hers take over the church. She, ah, killed herself in captivity. I could not find indication that she ever repented." The little archon slumps in the air. "I'm sorry, it was not a nice story."
<El-Cideon> Franceska's awkward exertions are interrupted, perhaps with some relief, by a firm knock on the door!
<Julia> "No no, that's not your fault," Julia says reassuringly. "It's good just to know, now." She'll just have to hope she doesn't forget over the course of a surely inebriated night. But for now she's in control of her faculties and happy to watch Vigilia's fortune be told.
<El-Cideon> Vigilia's fortune has by now been dealt out on the table: obvious hellfire is prominent in the array she's given, but ranged against and above this is a promising line suggesting the firm allegiance of friends, resolution, and the support of lighter powers.
<Franceska> It is Franceska's turn to drag Rosemund over to the door to greet their latecomers!
<El-Cideon> There is just one guest at the door this time: Thela has come alone. She's dressed expensively, in a well-tailored suit cut to display both her obvious wealth and figure both. She pauses to look around the increasingly riotous celebrations within the house and notes, "It was a common creed in my family that the fashionable souls always arrived late to a party. I see they were right about this much at least."
<Julia> "That's an optimistic fortune," Julia compliments Alice on her good taste.
<El-Cideon> Alice can only shrug, and hope to convey tacitly that she only reports what she finds.
<Franceska> "You did miss out on the choicier cocktails," Franceska notes. "Please, come in."
<El-Cideon> Thela strides confidently inside. As usual, she wears her forest elf disguise this evening. "An exotic array for your town," she observes quickly.
<El-Cideon> "I can't say the hellfire is that optmistic," Mercedes observes for her part.
<Franceska> "Hardly all the guests are from here, although you might spot a few familiar faces," Franceska says, leading Thela over to Calixta and her date.
<Julia> "But clearly it is to be triumphed over," Julia says. "We've got business in hell ourselves, so we can only hope to be so fortunate."
<El-Cideon> The captain seems to recognize Thela as a respectable local presence, though there's no indication he's aware of her true nature. "Githzerai?" Thela infers immediately.
<El-Cideon> "That's right!" Tiel chimes. "Misfortune is a part of every mortal's life at some time. What's important is how you overcome it!" Vigilia nods stiffly. "I suppose that is true," she admits, with something resembling optimism.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund detaches herself from Franceska's side to raid the kitchen with the pixies.
* Franceska leaves them to it, deciding to check up on Alice.
<El-Cideon> Franceska catches mutual compliments on sound discipline before departing, to find Alice sweeping up her cards in the aftermath of Vigilia's reading.
<Franceska> "I wonder if the readings change with time," she muses, smiling at Vigilia.
<El-Cideon> "It's pretty strange, isn't it?" Mercedes observes in the wake of the last reading. "It looks like there's a lot left up to interpretation. But I guess that's what good fortunetelling's about, isn't it?"
<El-Cideon> Alice nods at Franceska's comment, with what might be interpreted as confirmation.
<Franceska> "Then I believe I'm next!"
<El-Cideon> Alice reaches out her hand.
* Franceska extends her own, giddy with alcohol-bolstered excitement.
<El-Cideon> Alice's touch is as much of a jolt as ever (to everyone but Julia, at least), and the same images of someone else's life seep into Franceska's mind while the shadow woman performs her examination. Franceska's results, also, prove ultimately to be the same as they were previously on the negative energy plane: the first card is a bold, proud traveler striding upon a rickety wooden bridge that almost visibly shudders beneath his feet; below this is the image of a roaring inferno; Alice then slides these cards aside and sets down the image of two weathered hands, clasped together in a solid handshake; next to this, the dawn of realization card reappears; then two crossed swords, which Alice again leaves uncertainly sitting on its side; ultimately the line ends with a traveler on a hill overlooking a homey cottage and then one more card--the stranger, with an indistinct, blurry form but a strangely knowing expression.
<El-Cideon> Somewhere behind you, Ione's voice joins in with the band--it's astonishingly clear and strong.
* Franceska frowns, trying to puzzle them out anew but lacking any fresh drunken insights.
<El-Cideon> "Maybe you're supposed to fight hell together?" Mercedes guesses before slipping away to top off her glass.
* Franceska purses her lips and asks Alice, "Do you want to fight Hell together?
<El-Cideon> Alice hesitates before answering, but eventually produces a card demonstrating a serene figure engaged in quiet meditation and not much evident desire for violence.
<El-Cideon> But consideration of these mysteries is interruped by one more, rather subdued and barely heard over the din, knock on the door!
<Julia> "That's alright, you don't have to go to hell with us to be our friend," Julia reassures before ambling off to get the door.
* Franceska pats Alice's covered shoulder. "It's quite alright, I'm not much interested in fighting it either," she asserts.
<El-Cideon> Anton is outside, as alone as your last guest. He's dressed about as respectably as a wandering avenger might be expected to be, mostly in the sort of faded traveling leathers one might favor on the road. "I got a little lost," he says sheepishly. "Imagine that, lost and this town's maybe a tenth the size of Brass! And there may have been some rough words traded with a few of your locals..."
<El-Cideon> Like Stephanie and Mercedes, the tiefling didn't trouble to hide his nature at all.
<Franceska> All the talk about Hell gets Franceska to try a fiendish drink, if only to prepare herself with the sort of refreshment she might find when she visits it eventually.
<Julia> "Oh hello Anton, we weren't sure if you'd be able to make it," Julia says, stepping aside. "Come on in. And don't worry too much about the locals, we're trying to get everyone used to tieflings and the like."
<El-Cideon> "Quite a crowd you got here," he observes unnecessarily. An intenseive familiarity with violence and the overwhelming bustle of one of the universe's busiest metropolises doesn't sound to have really prepared him for a friendly party.
<El-Cideon> Franceska finds a variety of steel-reinforced mugs bubbling and crusted with unknown and forbidding substances!
* Franceska might usually hesitate before trying one, but not tonight!
<Julia> "We meet a lot of people on our travels," Julia says, escorting him towards the bar so he can get himself a drink. "Don't worry, everyone's nice."
<El-Cideon> Whatever it is is...fortifying, one can only hope! The vile brew puts Franceska's throat and stomach through a punishing ordeal before judging her rugged enough to tolerate its presence! A strange and intense conviction of moral rectitude seeps in as a side effect of her rapidly increasing inebriation.
<El-Cideon> Anton arrives in time to watch Franceska's no doubt fascinating expressions throughout this experience. "Drink would be nice, but...maybe I won't start with one of those," he decides.
<Julia> "Certainly it's an ambitious drink," Julia agrees, leery of trying anything like that herself.
<El-Cideon> "Do you think she'll survive?" he wonders idly as he picks out a mead.
<Franceska> "Kitchen," she decides, nodding firmly to herself. Her course plotted, Franceska goes to get some food. It's important when you drink a lot, she vaguely recalls.
<Julia> "Oh yes, she has a very firm constitution, I'm certain she'll be fine." Julia on the other hand has been cursed with a fairly weak one, explaining her inability to keep up with Franceska's pace.
<El-Cideon> "So how have you girls been in your more sober hours?" Anton wonders. "Keeping busy fighting the good fights? Sure there's no end of them out there."
<Julia> "Oh yes. We just got back from fighting the vampire queen on the negative energy plane," Julia nods. "What about you, still keeping the Burning Hand on its toes?" she asks before frowning at how odd that sounds.
<El-Cideon> Franceska passes a variety of mingled revelers en route: Marina busy on the dancefloor with Amaranth's star actors and acquitting herself much more beautifully in that endeavor than Franceska herself had; Ron is juggling two series of empty bottles across his four hands at the eager encouragement of the pixies; Vigilia, Calixta, Thela and guard captain Everard have turned the central lounge area into a group discussion of martial nature; Rosemund is with the band on break in the kitchen, energetically discussing the mixed virtues of various other worlds you've visited.
<El-Cideon> Anton's expression is serious, and almost disturbingly committed. "I've put down a few, but there's still more companies out there. Acheron for one, and Hades--but that one I'd probably best leave to its own damnation."
<Franceska> There is only so much she can talk about the planes, and after giving Rosemund a brilliant smile Franceska fills herself a plate with Julia's finest snacks before heading back out. She'll find someone to dance with after studying Marina and her partner properly.
<El-Cideon> Gregoire apparates at Franceska's side. "It doesn't require quite so much thought as you appear to think," he assures her. "Really, it's quite natural when you just relax."
<Julia> Julia nods before deciding that this isn't the best topic for a party. "Well we can leave tomorrow's battles until then. Lets go see what Vigilia and her friends are talking about?" she says, guiding him towards... well it's basically a talk about battles isn't it? Maybe she should've introduced him to Mercedes instead.
<Franceska> "There is no harm in giving it another try," Franceska says guardedly.
<El-Cideon> Calixta and Vigilia are mutually enthusiastic about the power of the fist to resolve all disputes! But captain Everard favors an armored approach to weather all a foe's assaults and wear them into submission, whereas Thela would much prefer to strike without allowing her opponent opportunity even to recognize her presence--an approach disdained by the others but much favored by Anton himself.
<El-Cideon> Gregoire takes Franceska politely in hand and leads her into the churning mass of dancers. "Just follow me," he says, one hand on her hip and the other clasped with hers.
<Julia> Expecting that the virtues of blanketing foes in deadly clouds of poison and waves of negative energy would be lost on this lot, Julia soon excuses herself and migrates to the kitchen so she can hear some feedback on her work.
<Franceska> "Is it terribly difficult to learn properly?" she asks, letting him guide her. "Or playing an instrument, for that matter?"
<El-Cideon> There's no one obviously serving food or drinks by this point--where's Grey got to?--but the reception of Julia's fare is enthusiastic, to say the least. Marcus is on hand to offer a gracious nod. "I hear we have you to thank for this bounty?" he says.
<El-Cideon> "Music, I would not know," Franceska's partner admits. "No doubt the medusa could instruct you better. But dancing is simply a matter of repetition until comfort with the motions passes into simple instinct."
* Franceska pouts. "That's a shame. I wanted to hire someone to help my maid with her hobby." Traveling to Air for lessons would be quite difficult. Now that she thinks about it, the same would hold true for Earth. How unfortunate. "Repetition? I can do that."
<Julia> "Yes, Franceska provided the venue, Stephanie the drinks, and I took care of the food," Julia says while reaching for a battered pork ball. "I do enjoy cooking, but don't usually get to work in so fine a kitchen as this one."
<El-Cideon> "I wouldn't imagine you have so much opportunity when you spend so much time on the road," Marcus guesses. The pixies wander into the vicinity and Marcus adopts a more dubious expression.
<El-Cideon> "Our house counts a broad variety of talents among its staff," Gregoire says as he nimbly evades a wildly gyrating Charlotte. "I'm sure if you require an instructor of nearly any art, Miss Mercedes could recomment someone."
<Julia> "No. Campfire cooking doesn't really let me stretch my legs, even with Rosemund's power to conjure fresh ingredients. But it's certainly better than living off preserved rations. Was it like that in your adventuring days?"
<El-Cideon> "We didn't have anything like this, that's for sure," Marcus says. "Maybe not much I missed of civilization more, really. Even a culinary wizard can only improve trail rations so much."
<El-Cideon> "Yeah, proper grub here," Thalia chimes in as the pixies sweep in on Julia and her companion.
<Franceska> "I might ask," she muses. "Perhaps even dancing lessons, for myself. If you are going to be roped into doing something, you might as well be very good at it."
<El-Cideon> "Isn't it a most necessary skill for a lady or gentleman in proper society after all?" Gregoire says encouragingly.
<Julia> "The key is to use spices and sauces to overpower the natural blandness of rations or conjured food," Julia explains. "A bag of spices is easy to carry around, and much lighter than bringing along all ingredients. That way you can turn almost anything into a satisfying meal."
<Franceska> "But I don't really like society," Franceska protests.
<El-Cideon> Marcus nods. "Of course, anything would be better than prison food," he says in a sour aside to the new appearances. "Hey, look," Thalia says defensively. "we weren't, like, GUARD guards or anything, we were just around for when he wanted to put on plays. I mean, it wasn't our job to let you out either, right?"
<El-Cideon> "A curious protest for one throwing a party within her own home," Gregoire says with a grin.
<Franceska> "There are some people I can't say no to," Franceska laments. "Curse that weakness of mine."
<El-Cideon> "Really, I think you can't possibly dislike people so much as you claim, to have invited so many and so disparate here tonight," he insists. "Does this gathering then represent the sum total of those you can't offend with a refusal of your company?"
* Franceska tilts her head as she considers the question. "No, I'm fairly confident I can tolerate a bit more."
<El-Cideon> "Well," he says with a curious balance of wryness and sincerity, "I call it gratifying to be counted among the number of the tolerable, then."
<El-Cideon> Marcus has no especially coherent response to the pixies and trods off grumbling under his breath. "Hey, sorry about that," Thalia says to Julia in Marcus's absence. "I guess it's hard for me to figure. What's twenty years, right?"
<Julia> "Er, it's about as long as I've been alive," Julia admits, thinking Marcus has a right to be upset but all the same wishing it could be water under the bridge. "But I certainly plan to live long enough for it to seem an inconsequential amount of time."
<El-Cideon> "See, that's the spirit!" Thalia chirps. Elsewhere, the party mixes and merges in unpredictable chemical reactions. The band calls another break and Ione takes the impromptu stage to belt out an emotional, wrenching solo that captures the party's whole attention for some minutes--but does, alas, spell an end to dancing for the moment. Grey has reappeared after a lengthy absence...somewhere? She appears somewhat disheveled and flushed but is back on bartender duty. Mercedes has noticed Anton's presence and cornered him with almost predatory interest. Rosemund and Thalasir collectively share an easychair rather too small for both. There's an awful lot of yelling and raised voices at this point and impromptu, clashing singalongs breaking out in various parts of the house.
<El-Cideon> Ron is now walking about the house upside down on his hands, apparently just to prove that he can.
<El-Cideon> Drunken imitations break out in his wake, rarely successful and sending more than one partygoer to the floor.
<Franceska> Taking a break from the dancing, Franceska stays near the bar where she nurses her mead. And another plate filled with Julia's snacks. There's really something to eating good food in comfortable surroundings.
<El-Cideon> Eventually the guard are forced to put in appearance to placate the demands of angry neighbors--but, their captain being present, enforcement quickly leads to participation instead! Bolder guests venture upstairs and claim bedrooms for the night, some pass out in place on chairs and sofas, at some point Rosemund surreptitiously exits the house with Mercedes's elven companion in tow, and at length the sun rises to cast its baleful rays upon the collective survivors of one of the more unusual bacchanalian celebrations Amranth can claim to have hosted. The lucky ones may just be those to fall to unconsciousness before the grim light of dawn could beam its disapproving glare on the aftermath of their revelry. One way or another, it was an event the city will have to try mightily to outdo!
~