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middaeg2020-11-08 03:25 pm
hearthebell) wrote in middaeg2020-11-08 03:25 pm
Entry tags:
Their Parties Were Tasteful, If a Little Loud [OPEN]
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.]
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.]