Their Parties Were Tasteful, If a Little Loud [OPEN]

[hearthebell]

Who: Members of the Mirrorbound Council, little old Parliamentary ladies with a soft spot for underprivileged orphans, and anyone else who would show up for the cause or the refreshments!
When: Sunday, November 8 (the morning after the masquerade)
Where: DiplomaTea
What: SCHMOOZING over brunch and tea. The motion for getting the harbor orphans better funding passed with a pretty decent margin, now it's just a matter of loosening those purse strings a little more with charm and panache. Hopefully you didn't party too hard last night at the masquerade, because doing this hungover would be even harder. Post a toplevel, and feel free to mingle!
Warnings: If anything warning-worthy happens they probably won't get as much funding, FYI.



Few causes in this world are as inherently sympathetic as the plight of exploited orphans, alone in the world, their needs a daunting staircase built by Maslow starting from the very bottom. As motions went to for the council to lay before Parliament, it probably could have been worse, and though some misers wanted to shoot it down, ultimately, it had passed, and the creatures responsible were as soft-hearted as vanity could perhaps allow.

Awash and aglow in their privilege, they couldn't possibly imagine what it was like to grow up hungry and laboring in difficult and dangerous conditions. It all seemed so very exciting, though, like some thrilling novel, and they stood to become the heroines in their comfortable later years. They wouldn't even have to take off their plump satin bustles, or worry about their elaborate hats blowing away in some harsh and unglamorous wind; it was a matter of just loosening their purse-strings a bit. Activism that would allow, in the end, for them to make it to their evening gatherings for gin-rummy with time to spare.

The Sun is bright, this morning. Perhaps uncomfortably so, if you attended the masquerade last night and overindulged, and in spite of that decided to come anyway. It can't be easy; DiplomaTea's typical herbal and spiced aromas are being choked out by heavy powder and floral perfumes that would be headache-inducing even if you weren't hungover. An enchanted glockenspiel serenades you all, their idea, of course, but unfortunately the casual hobby-witch who proudly cast the spell has gone a bit deaf in her later years. The higher registers in particular suffer; when you expect a completed octave, you're likely to get a third or an atonal chord instead, and this hiccup has a nasty way of derailing even the soberest and most well-rested trains of thought among your number.

At least Steak has rallied for the occasion, in the most delicious way. A buffet heaped high with eggs, bacon, biscuits and other breakfast staples is available, and might even smell appetizing if you can stop running to the bathroom to gag into waste bin, you shameless lush.

Grab a table, sidle up to Doris, Gladys or Rosemary, and listen to them prattle for a bit about their fashion, their foibles, their coddled adult children who have never worked or suffered a day in their lives. While orphans are inherently sympathetic, and the cause is easy to believe in, the tests are in the stamina of your smile, the flexibility of your patience, and the strength of your will. Once those have worn thin and you need a bit of a break, hit up your fellow Mirrorbound to share notes, a plate of bacon, or maybe a waste bin. There's a good chance they won't judge; there's a good chance they are hungover, too.

[ooc: Flask up with your hair of the dog and show Parliament what you're willing to endure for those helpless babes of the harbor! Toplevels are welcome and feel free to assume that these ladies adopt an attitude of "the more, the merrier"at their tables.]

Comments

L Lawliet (Linden Tailor) | Death Note | Blurb With Open Prompt

[hearthebell]

[Turnout is poor, at least at 10 AM on the dot. He’s either the first one here, or the only one here. L had attended the masquerade the night prior, and perhaps come off as a bit judgmental towards others overindulging in merriment. It had been difficult for him to engage socially at all without getting drunk, but he’d maintained the perspective that there was something important to him happening the next morning, and showing up disheveled and reeking of liquor would probably be a bad look. These are Parliament’s most sympathetic members, after all, towards a cause he cares about deeply. If he can engage with them pleasantly enough, the kids at the orphanage might not get adopted… but more funding is at least some kind of consolation prize.

The smell of eggs and bacon turns his stomach, but not because he’s hungover. His intestines are in knots; this is the reason he’d postponed a Bond with Near, after all, the knowledge that he would need to keep any social edge he’s managed to develop under Myr and Light’s influence and Bonding with someone who struggles even more in such settings so close to an important event would have been ill-advised. Even having taken that precaution, this is daunting. L is soft-spoken and shabby. He lacks charisma and charm. He’d picked Light’s brain for pointers on how to at least affect those things, but personality is a difficult thing to fake. He’s perhaps the worst person to carry so much of the responsibility for this, but if there’s one thing he is good at, it’s preparing, arranging the chess pieces available to him in the most beneficial possible way.

Approaching a group of three, he’s greeted warmly by one of Parliament’s ladies. Her hat is the biggest; it’s safe to say that the plump and grandmotherly woman is the defacto queen bee. A thin and pinch-lipped woman in a blue dress seems skeptical of his unimpressive appearance, and it’s clear that her first impression is a poor one. As he takes his seat, the third woman, who is trying very hard to look several decades younger with loose-flowing curls dyed artificial yellow and an inappropriately low-cut bodice, props up her cleavage a bit by pushing her elbows closer.

“So thoughtful of you to join us for one of our little get-togethers, my dear! I believe I remember you from the meeting. I’m Agatha; this is Myra and Bethyl, and we were so sad to hear about all those poor darling orphans.”

L nods, pulling out a chair, careful to sit with his feet on the floor, though his toes are restless in his shoes.]

My name is Linden Tailor.

[The presence of other chairs at the table suggests that they had been expecting a slightly larger crowd than their typical group, after the motion passed. L’s dark eyes scan them as the ladies continue to size him up; Bethyl especially seems disappointed that she got all dolled up for this, and an opportunity to flirt yields, at best, a lackluster prospect. ]

As you can see…

[Everyone is hungover from last night’s party, and couldn’t bother to show up.

Probably not a good idea. What had Light said, about flattery, encouraging them to talk about themselves?]

...it takes a very special kind of person to care about orphans. That’s you, isn’t it? I’m so happy to be meeting with all of you today.

[There’s a bluster of gracious deflection for acknowledgment that has nevertheless buttered them up.]

As you may be aware, I’m a tutor at the orphanage on a volunteer basis. I’ve told some of the orphans about your generosity, and they wanted to express their thanks by writing you letters.

[This is his preparation, the masterstroke that he believes is practically guaranteed to get a chorus of coos and affectionate murmurs from at least two of them. Myra, the pinch-lipped one, seems like she’s a natural skeptic, just not the type to be easily impressed.]

Corvin is nine, and he’s written a poem about how kindness is a form of heroism. Sorcha is seven, shows a rare talent for art, and has sent a self-portrait in charcoal that she hopes you’ll enjoy. These small clay cats were made by Chack, and… well, frankly, they’re not very good, but he wants to study at the Coven and learn how to use magic to take care of animals that are sick or injured. Please trust that his forays into healing show a lot more promise.

[From there, it’s a carefully gauged approach, directly out of Light’s playbook: getting them to talk about themselves, the wonderful things that make them such excellent philanthropists for a cause that people might not notice, but is nevertheless worthy, and important. They’ve given opportunities and hope to the children who would otherwise be discarded by an uncaring world, and there is a story in his eyes of one such orphan who would have been swept up and lost, were it not for people who gave a damn at all. He was lucky; he was brilliant and notable, more so than the young minds responsible for the quaint efforts he’s put in front of the Parliament members… but children like that deserve not to get discarded, too.

L’s not alone forever. Others do show up a bit later, including Momo and Louis, contributing their much-appreciated efforts. ]

WILDCARD OPTION

[If your character made an appearance, and you still want them to interact osncreen with L and the old ladies of Parliament, pull up a chair and schmooze! Agatha likes to be reminded of her kindness; Myra likes to feel smart, and Bethyl just wants to snare a hunk.]

Jin Guangyao| Mo Dao Zu Shi | Open

[turmoiling]

[Jin Guangyao at least shows no sign of his unfortunate state the night before; if he's still feeling the effects, the lack of eyelids on those slit-pupilled snake eyes helps avoid a squinty bleary look. The sun isn't entirely unwelcome either; he's a not uncommon visitor to bask in those morning rays here on the patio of Diplomatea on days with less work to be done.

The off-key pitches in the music are considerably more grating, prompting some consideration before deciding there isn't anything more unusual about them than a poor ear.

He slithers smoothly to and fro, serving tea with the sweetest of smiles, laughing lightly at the ladies' anecdotes and making pleasant small talk. It's a familiar sort of routine, even if the setting and his own personal circumstances are somewhat different -- and it's almost pleasant, finding a nice balance between showing a graceful, almost regal demeanour, yet finding kind words and nice things to say each time he happens by to refill a cup.

Feeling almost human -- well, naga -- as the event winds down, the remains of the buffet become almost impossible to resist, the tip of his tail, still less under conscious control than his expression, waggling now and then. His faint smile doesn't waver as the last of the ladies leave, but there is a definite purposefullness in his slide towards the trays, no longer quite so heaping with delicious morsels.]

Ah, all the bacon is gone? A pity. But I'm quite impressed that such an excellent spread was put together for the event.

[That's about when the glockenspiel spell hits another hiccup and looking ever so politely pained, he does add:]

Though perhaps it's time for the musical accompaniment to end.

[wordsinthesoul]

With any luck, that made as much of an impression as the rest of the event. [Thancred eyes the remaining food, and adds- because it is, perhaps something of the point-] I wonder if we might not be able to share the remainder.

[He hides a wince himself, feathered ears flicking.]

I couldn't agree more. I don't suppose you're familiar with the method, by any chance?