Improptu Thrax Birthday Party
Jan. 8, 2018, 10:10 p.m.
Arx - Ward of House Thrax - Thrax Courtyard
Comments and Log
6 Thrax Guards, Stojan, the assistant arrive, following Denica.
6 Thrax Guards, Denica arrive, following Galen.
The courtyard of Thrax's ward has been converted from the cold late autumn affair that a more delightful and enjoyable, brightly lit affair. A massive tent has been erected to provide respite from the cold, sides of it open. Lanterns hang everrywhere, to provide lights while brazier's burn around the outside of the tent, spaced apart far enough to provide space for people to move in and out and let the heat remain caught within the tent. Tables dot here and there to provide opportunity for people to sit and talk, to partake of the food that sits on the tables buffet style for people to help themselves. Boughs of white peonie's let thier fragerance waft through the tent, decorate the poles, back of chairs, a favourite flower of the brithday celebrant. Music comes from one end of the tent and livens up the courtyard and welcomes people to partake of dancing and enjoying themselves. Alcohol and drinks flow freely, everything from fruited waters, tea's and to the more rare and delightful alcohols.
12 Thrax Elite Guards, Crow - Thraxian Steward, Lilybelle - Fluffy Maine Coon arrive, following Victus.
Sombra, 1 Navegant Marines leave, following Edward.
Wash arrives, following Ian.
Ian comes in along with Wash (who's idlish because of dinner, I think), walking at an easy pace, watching his feet the whole way. He stops walking and takes a moment to have a look at the scene.
Sparte is there for the party, looking like the fox that caught the hen. He has a little broken-looking lantern looking device in one hand, and is very clearly trying to find a spot to set it down in Alarissa's general vicinity. He is not known for his stealthy subtle demeanor.
4 Kennex corsairs, Serena, the charming Stormward lady-in-waiting arrive, following Vanora.
2 Pravus Honor Guard leaves, following Deacon.
Alarissa's easing off that dance floor with Victus, cheeks flushed, colouring those normally very pale cheeks as they finish whatever high spirited dance it was that resembeld something that the man would be comfortable dancing - or at least moving in some way - to. Her arm in his though, the coronet of the Princess of Maelstrom nestled in her hair and that red modest dress that flares out around ankles and walking off the floor with her husband and back to the other guests and a little breathless.
4 Kennex corsairs, Serena, the charming Stormward lady-in-waiting leave, following Vanora.
Walking arm in arm with her cousin, Galen, Denica strolls into the impromptu celebration dressed in her smoky tempest silks, skirts cascading around her ankles with a considerable flair to her step. She grins a little and is shooting Galen a bit of a look all the same. "Why yes, yes I would," she says to him in an apparent response.
"Well, one day I might tell you," Galen says to Denica as they arrive, he himself has dressed up, or down depending on who you ask for the occasion. he was dressed in a white cotton v cut shirt with dark corded strings, dark leather pants, boots and belt, his attire was topped off with a long thick dark grey wool overcoat, with toggles fashioned into silver serpent heads. "It looks great out here," he comments, those stormy eyes of his catching sight of the woman of the hour and Victus coming from the floor, a smile and nod offered to the pair. "Remind me to make a toast, but first dearest cousin, what are we drinking?"
Sparte sets down the lantern device with the note and the kitchen hammer in a likely spot on a table near the dance floor. He then scoots off to be a wall flower, well away from the dance floor. Almost like he were afraid of it.
Coming off the floor arm and arm with his wife was Victus. Nobody ever said the High Lord was a dancer, but nobody could also say he didn't put an unreasonable amount of effort into the smallest things. Which was exactly what he'd done, probably part of the reason his wife was panting and he'd broken out into a light sweat. He wasn't dressed for the occasion either, having been wearing his armor since the first news of the oncoming fleets had broken. Though he's done his best to put on a softer expression to not be the most unwelcome sight among his family. Still, some grimace and scowling persisted. But it was less.
Ian is severely underdressed in his usual beat up leather coat -- since he only found out about this party a couple minutes ago while drinking at the Ebb and Flow. If he notices this at all, it doesn't seem to bother him. After taking in the scene, he looks back down at his feet and paces closer to the tent. And, you know, the table that has all the rum. Aaaaaaaalllll the rum. Presumably Wash is somewhere.
"You think that this is a good enough excuse for me to get drunk?" Wash asks Ian. "Or will my sobriety be questioned again if I decide to celebrate a bit?" He didn't bring a drink with him. Instead, in a little handcart he has brought a block of ice. A solid chunk with a pick, hammer and chisel on top. Ice is expensive, even this time of year, at least the kind one can put in their drinks.
"Rum, of course, you tease," Denica pokes at Galen playfully and chuckles a bit, looking out to the dance floor before she rolls her eyes. "Oh dear. Look at me, I've been reduced to taking my cousin to a party as my date," she says with a grin. "Lets get something to drink. I'm going to make you dance before the night is through."
"You don't get to run away Master Fatchforth." Alarissa calls out to the attempted wallflower. The strange offering noticed. Vic's armor is likely why she's wearing red. But up on toes she goes to murmur and offer the High Lord a kiss before looking to Galen. "The finest rums, teas and there is somwhere, a bottle of Grimhalls finest meads." She offers brightly. But there's a thing, that was brought and it's Wash and that wagon of ice. "What is this Fatchforth?"
Lethe arrives alone wearing a blue dress. She takes a curious look around. She decides on a drink.
"I think your sanity will be questioned if you don't." Ian takes up a glass of rum, regarding Wash.
Sparte gives a small yelp, turning on the spot and glancing around before giving Alarissa a nervous smile. "I uh didn't know there'd be a party so uh I did a you know." He makes compact gestures with his hands. "Small cake you could make whenever you were ready for it." He clears his throat, gesturing to the ice. "Oh, take a look at that."
Galen smiles warmly as Alarissa informs him of the drink selection, "You are too kind!" he exclaims leading he and Denica to the drinks, he first acquired a glass for her passing it off, and then one for himself, immediately taking a drink. "I am probably the most charming and attractive date you could have brought," he says before a slight look of panic crept over him, "I should have written this toast, but I think it will go something like...'To Victus better half, the mother of our future High Lady, and joy to us all'" he says in a hushed tone, so perhaps not everyone would hear, "That is all have so far, I have to think fast." he completely ignored the comment about the dance floor.
Wash sets up the cart near the table of alcohol and kneels down next to it. "Fetch me a pair of wide glasses, will you Ian?" And he uses the chisel to start scrapping away at the ice.
Ian goes off to fetch and carry without protest, even moving with something that might be called reasonable speed. Well, still at about the speed of a stroll, so maybe not THAT much speed.
"Victus, he..." There's a look of sheer horror on Alarissa's face. "You brought me something to cook...." Alarissa blinks, looking to victus soon followed by incredulous laughter, soft and light. "You brought me somethinig to cook. That, Master Fatchforth, is... an interesting gift that I most certainly have never been given. Prince Galen, do you know how to cook?" The Kennex's likely do.
Denica takes the glass, smiling over the rim as she sips. "Yeah, sure. Of course you're my cousin so now everybody is going to be asking 'why couldn't Denica get her own date?'" Denica grins, looking to Alarissa and giving a little wiggle of her fingers. "Do you?" she asks, of Alarissa's question. "I couldn't cook water, myself."
Wash sets to with a will creating a little pile of shaved ice on the block with the wide chisel. Even with melt, it would take hours to carve through the whole thing with a chisel.
Ian finishes off his rum and sets the glass aside so that he can balance the two glasses Wash asked for in one hand (the other one, as always, being taken up by his cane). These he brings back, still watching his feet as he walks, pausing now and again to make sure he's not about to run into anyone. Hopefully Wash is patient.
"I uhh...I have people who do that, I could survive if I had to at sea, but, in short for something like this, no," Galen laughs answering both Alarissa and Denica. His rum would be lifted back to his lips a longer drink is taken, "Denica, you could have had any number of men or women come as your date, let's not pretend you are not absolutely adorable, not to mention a Princess." he chuckles, his eyes wandering over to Victus, "The weight of the world." he says quietly, a soft sigh being given.
Victus just stares blankly back at his wife. "He sure did." He remarks with no shortage of bluntness. "I'm sure somebody in there knows how to cook. But we have the misfortune of it being dead and not wriggling at all whatsoever. Our chefs will be at a disadvantage." All spoken in a tone drier than a desert as he stands beside the birthday girl.
Sparte doesn't seem to understand what the complication is. He glances between Victus and Alarissa with some confusion, then looks to Denica and his eyes widen a little bit as some redness comes to his cheeks. He gives a bow towards the hosts, then swiftly as he can flees the party. A tactical retreat of course. That is what you call it when they manage not to run into any guests and narrowly miss a doorframe, isn't it?
Wash uses the wide chisel to fill both of the glasses Ian holds, then takes them from him and fills them with rum and wedges of fruit. These he carries over to offer to Prince Victus and the cause celebre. "Prince, Princess, this particular drink has the advantage of leaving very little in the way of hangover. Usually made with fresh snow, I had to make do with ice."
Wilhelm the Iron Messenger leaves, following Sparte.
"I think the last time that I stepped foot in a kitchen was in truth..." Alarissa doesn't go in kitchens. there's staff for that. Hands down, there is staff for that. "Well, we know the answer to that question. So I'll not speak it further. Master Fatchforth. It is lovely, thank you. Even though gifts are not necessary save for the company of those around me this day." And she lets him slip off, looking to the cake. "You're right. It's not wriggling. Thank the gods for that. If I saw an octopus still moving..." But here comes wash with something ice and fruit.
6 Thrax Guards have been dismissed.
Stojan, the assistant have been dismissed.
Once Wash has gone off with his ice and fruit and rum, Ian goes for another glass of rum and rum and rum.
Lethe takes her drink and takes a sip. She smiles and looks at the drink "That is creative." She looks at Alarissa. "I'm afraid I didn't bring anything."
Oh, drinks. Victus know this and that is good enough for him. "No hangover? Shit I'll drink to that." He says as he plucks one glass and immediately starts drinking liberally.
'Why does everyone insist on bringing something. I offer the truth. I am glad for the company Lethe. Besides, you brought a lovely gift not that long ago." Alarissa points out to the Tyde noblewoman, unwinding her arm from Victus so that he can flee. It's no raucus dockside party like it was for his birthday. Everyone's within earshot of each other, booze is flowing, music is upbeat. There's no Gyre or all of that here. Just an impromptu small party.
"I'm happy to make one for you." Wash says to Lethe. "I will have to ask your name though, I don't think we've been acquainted." He eyes Victus. "I may have forgotten to mention that consumed too quickly you might feel a..." What's the word for an ice cream headache in a world without ice cream?
Maybe it takes a certain amount of fortitude to simply sweep into a courtyard full of Thraxian nobles, as if she has every right to be there. But there she is, Lady Juliana Pravus, in her sweeping blue cloak and loose dark curls, stepping into the party as if she had been there all along.. she may even have a drink in her hand before anyone realizes she is present.
Ian takes one look at Victus going at his rum slushie with... citrus accents, and decides to go round up a servant who he can set to work with the ice pick on the block of ice. Because more of those are going to be needed. He comes back with a sailor with big burly arms, who may or may not have been promised rum.
Lethe smiles as she nods at what Alarissa says. "I can't forget that, and I am glad to be here." She turns to Wash. "Thank you. I'm Lady Lethe Tyde."
Alarissa is tending to her citrusy rum slushie with far less gusto than Victus tends to his, nursing it if looking a little surprise. "Lord Washburn, you should use the Kennex vodka's, the flavoured ones." She muses even as she's pressing a kiss to Lethe's cheek in greeting. "A Harlequin of Death, excellent midwife, and a beloved lady in waiting." WHo's not a lady in waiting? The Pravus who has slipped in and almost got away with it. But she spots her. "And a long lost Thrax makes her way home?" Dark blue eyes on Juliana. "Lady Pravus. Lost, or come to enjoy yourself?"
Galen pulls carefully away from Denica, his steps direct him closer to Alarissa and Victus, a curious look cast toward Wash and Ian, then the drinks and back once more, "Those look interesting," he says with cheer in his voice, and then those stormy eyes would wash over Alarissa, "Happy celebration of birth!" he exclaims lifting his own glass toward her and Victus, "He is certainly lucky you were born, I am not certain that without you, his face would not get stuck in some type of grimace." a hand gesture was made with this. His eyes then followed Alarissa's voice towrd Juliana, a nod and smiled offered to her.
There's a moment of explanation, followed by more than a moment of bewilderment. ("You want me to WHAT? Ice? You're drinking ice? You're EATING ice? In DECEMBER? ... Silks.") Ian eventually fortifies the new ice shaver with some rum and leaves him to his work.
"I will give that a try." Wash says, glancing over at the ice. "Here, let me show you how to do that." He heads that direction to make sure the ice block isn't wasted by inefficient use of the tools. "Only chip off the corners, never the middle. That's for the chisel."
Lethe grins. "Such kind words." She looks toward Juliana. "Hello! I do hope you'll enjoy the party here."
At the sound of her name, Jules turns, slow, deliberate and with a smile even in place by the time their blue eyes meet. "You Highness." a sweeping curtsey that reveals that under the fashion maven's cloak is not the latest dress but instead the girl is clad in leathers. "I am never lost. I had heard that my cousin was back in town. And thought I would pay him a visit before bothering my siblings and seeing if I can either to actually leave their rooms." a wink sent to Galen as he nods though she looks back to Alarissa almost immediately. "It is said that birthday wishes are in order. Happy Birthday."
Ian isn't terribly good at circulating, so he parks himself near the drinks, and eases a little more weight onto his cane. He nurses his drink while he settles into people watching.
"Prince Abbas abounds. Though I suspect you'll be hard pressed to pull him from the Princess Isabeau side. Summarily, the Princess Fatima is within as well, last that I knew." There's a dip of her head to the other woman, studyin her, as if deciding something before lifting her rum whatever up to the woman. "Thank you and please. Enjoy yourself. Perhaps bring a few of these to my cousins who are your cousins Lady Pravus. Lovely leathers." And that's it. No bringing out of the claw, just a look around to the party and a murmur to Victus.
6 Thrax Guards arrives, following Abbas.
The wink from Juliana causes Galen to chuckle and shake his head briefly, he would then bow his head toward Alarissa and Victus, then, turn straight toward Juliana, "You've managed to drag out at least the best looking of your cousins," a hand is then dramatically laid on his own his chest, "It is good to see you."
"What, when something in your head freezes over?" Victus asks of Wash, a curious tilt of his head following as well. Genuine interest at that. "Whatever these are, they're nice. Don't got the bitter taste. Which is... Acceptable." Pros and cons and all that. Next his eyes are sweeping unto Galen, a more dour look had for his cousin at the quip. "I don't find much to smile about, cousin. But should you find one besides my wife, don't hesitate to alert me." The corner of his mouth turns up just a bit in a smirk. "Fucker." Then he's leaning back toward Alarissa, a soft murmur had for something they share in private.
"Never underestimate the persuasion powers of a younger sister." Juliana smiles to Alarissa. "After all, I stole all his booze, he is going to have to come out sometime. Warning, he might be cranky." with that she nods at the comment of the leathers, blue eyes sparkling before turning to look at Galen. "Cousin, welcome back." before moving forward to give him a hug. "That it was better times, but I am glad to see you."
Abbas Thrax makes his way out of the estate. The now reclusive prince making a rare appearance dressed in his odd exotic armor. Likely headed somewhere else he keeps a hand on his axe as he walks. The former reaver and warlord seems to be in a dark mood. The smolder of his pitch gaze seems intent on moving beyond whatever social nonsense is occurring. But then he spots his sister and all movement comes to a stop and he heads in her direction, "You." He offers in a flat tone. "I collect a bottle of liquor to honor the prowess of my skills as a lover from those I bed. It amuses me that you have no idea what you were touching and I hope you endeavored to sip their contents." And there you have Abbas. Rugged, dreadlocked, and apparently in need of trophies.
"If ever that was your cue." Alarissa offers to Victus, a look at him after Abbas' entrance. "Good evening Prince Abbas. Enjoy the refreshments, it's good to see you."
Lethe finishes her drink. "I know I haven't stayed long, but I should be going."
The comment from Victus literally causes Galen to laugh, a laugh from the depths, he would glance back over his shoulder to the man, "I will alert you after we survive then!" he says with enthusiasm, "Though, if we're going to die soon, we can at least live while we are still here, after all," his blue eyes dance to Alarissa, "It is a celebration of life, and a damn good one! I need one of those ice things though," he notes glancing to the still somewhat confused sailor. "Juliana, thank you, I too, wish it were better times, but none the less, it is a pleasure." his eyes then movin to Abbas, a firm nod given.
Ian was JUST about to take a sip of rum when Abbas Abbases all over the party. (It's a verb now.) He makes a strangled coughing sound that's totally not a laugh. Sip.
Juliana turns from hugging Galen, not actally stepping away from him, maybe she plans to dive behind if this goes poorly? Lifting her eyes towards her towering elder brother. "Abbas, you can ruin a wet dream, do you know that?" then smiles brightly, unveiling a devastating set of dimples. "I gave it to Sebastian. I am sure he is spitting it out even as we speak." then tips her face up for what seems to be an expected kiss. "Hello big brother, miss me?"
Wash puts together a few more drinks and finally claims two for himself. "Awww. The Lady Tyde has departed. I suppose I have no choice but to drink both of these myself." The second sentence consoles him after the first.
"Refreshments." Abbas looks around and inquires, "What is the occasion?" The Warlord asks curiously. There is a nod towards Alarissa and a bow of the head to honor her station. A similar nod is afford the High Lord. The man's attention falls on his sister once more, "I'm not serious, I stopped drinking and smoking kelp some months ago to tend to my personal affairs and business. Return them at your leisure after our brother has had his fill." And he looks to the face of his sister and her expectation. The man moves closer and leans in to supply his family with a kiss to the top of her head. The sort of thing older brothers do to appease their little sisters. "Of course."
"My birthday." Alarissa calls to Abbas, even as Alarissa's doting another kiss on Victus's lips and starting to part from his side again. There's a gaggle of noblewomen in one corner of the tent and she seems intent on starting to make her way there.
Jules asides to Galen as Abbas makes the corrections. "As you see, his sense of humor hasn't improved." though there is great affection in the way she looks towards her brother. "It's her Highness's birthday." informing Abbas, then pausing as Alarissa says the same. Instead taking a sip of the glass she is holding, then steps forward to take hold of his hand, giving it a tug. "Come walk with me?"
Something Alarissa has murmured gets Victus -cackling-. The first big laugh he's had in awhile with all things considering. "Yeah. I'll get right on that." He motions t o her and then he's off to the refreshment table himself. Nods of greeting had for Abbas and a firm pat on the back for Galen. Thus the High Lord gets to drinking, something that he's best at during high tension.
With Victus at the refreshment table, Ian fortifies the sailor he found with more rum, and then heads off. Probably back to the more familiar drinking situation of the bar from whence he came.
"Happy birthday." And that's that. Abbas takes his sister's hand and slides it in his armored mitt. His wig-splitting hand remains on the head of his axe. He shifts and waits for Jules to be ready to depart. "So long as it is brief. I have affairs to tend to and do not have much time for jabber jawing." He offers accompanied by the sweetest of apologetic smiles.
"Prince Abbas, I am glad you got to see me," Galen offers to the man with a smirk. He then leans forward to plant a quick kiss on Juliana's cheek, "Let us catch up soon," and with that, he is patted on the back by Victus, he turns to the High Lord, drink lifted briefly, "I have some things to tend to for what awaits, do tell your wife I had a good time. Let's enjoy the rest of the night, and tomorrow we will handle business."
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