it's a party! time to mingle!

[trettende]

[ The mood may be shifting as the days go by, but Hans is still totally confident that everybody's still working together on the whole "not murdering" thing! Definitely. I mean, a guy can dream, right? In any case, this morning upon leaving your room you may find a folded note under your door. Unless you're a really early riser, then you're going to have to come back to get your invitation. Sorry, bro. ]

Dear [Your Name]((It really will say your name, he hand wrote these!))

I think we can all agree that this situation is far from ideal. It's fair to have doubts and expect the worse, but if we all stick to our morals I'm sure we can wait this out together. We can't let the Management think they can get us down with false promises and their crazy rules.

With that in mind, I hope you'll consider joining me in the Dining Room tonight for some refreshments, snacks, and a good chance for us all to spend some time together. There will be wine and champagne for those who wish to partake in it, as well as crackers and cheese and whatever I was able to find in the kitchen (I can't cook, but if anyone wants to bring anything, feel free!) If drinking and dining isn't your thing, maybe we can sit around and trade stories from home.

I look forward to seeing you there.

-- Prince Hans

(P.S. Set-up is at 5pm if anyone wants to help.)

[ Whether you're here early to help with set up or showing up fashionably late, the dining hall has been... well, not so much decorated really, but there's music coming from somewhere, maybe. Hans dragged the piano over from the music room and set it up in a corner, that should work. Plus if we all keep humming, music plays itself in the background, that's how it works, right?

The refreshments are laid out on a table with flutes of champagne and wine glasses, and beside it you'll find, besides champagne and fine wine, a pitcher of water, maybe some juice and soda from the kitchen. It's all self-serve, so have fun with that. There are also some snacks: crackers and sliced cheeses and what-have-you nearby, complete with napkins and forks to serve yourself.

Not a drinker or much of a partier? That's alright, you can just hang out! A stack of playing cards is laid out by one end of the dining table, looking perfectly inviting for anyone who wants to give that a try. And Hans did promise there'd be stories from home to pass the time, so perhaps find yourself a group of people willing to listen and tell the group about the real you!

...Or if you'd rather avoid the whole mess entirely, stick to the wall and hope no one sees you. That's not suspicious at all. I mean, the dining hall is big enough for twenty, right? ]

Comments

OTA

[dechagny]

[Raoul is at the party, of course, dressed to impress and enjoying some of the wine slowly and reverently. Ah, blessed alcohol, he'd needed this. He can hold his liquor and he's not downing glasses, so Raoul won't be drunk, but he'll be pleasantly buzzed and a little less uptight. If asked for a chat, or to dance, or play cards or tell stories, he'll be there, because this sort of thing is his element.

Oh, and if you ask: he made the somewhat burnt quiches. He's proud of them.]

[solomonjihad]

[Hey! Astarte's coming and she's trying the quiche!

...

Munch...munch...]

Mm.

[dechagny]

[If one could, in real life, vibrate with excitement, Raoul would be doing so.]

What do you think of the quiche, Miss Astarte?

[solomonjihad]

....its slightly burnt.

[Oh n---]

But...that seems to make it nice and crispy.

...

[Noms.]

I like the taste.

[dechagny]

[No it's okay he did notice the burnt parts. Trying to scrape it off made the crust too thin and fragile. He did try.]

Wonderful! I am glad to hear it. Are you partial to foods that are cooked more thoroughly?

[solomonjihad]

...My mother cooks me things like that, yes.

[A master chef, Lilith of Darkness is not.]

It depends on the food, of course, but this was actually good.

[dechagny]

Oh, I see.

[He...won't say anything bad about anyone's mother. Never. Not ever.]

I'm glad you found it enjoyable then!

[solomonjihad]

Thank you. And...you're welcome.

[Very good idea.]

Do you cook often, back home?

[dechagny]

I do not! But I have been learning rather quickly here. I was able to make the macaroni and cheese, and with Monsieur Valjean's help I have learned to conquer the hot pocket.

[solomonjihad]

...Macaroni and cheese...!

[Oh my god. That's amazing...!]

And...what's a hot pocket?

[dechagny]

It is, as Monsieur Valjean explained to me, a kind of sandwich where the meat and cheese are encased in bread, and it is put in the micro-wave to heat it. But I must warn you, when it is finished cooking it is very hot. I recommend poking holes in it with a fork and letting it cool before you eat it.

[solomonjihad]

Oh...oh! Like shawarma!

[dechagny]

[????????]

What is a shawarma?

[solomonjihad]

Its a wrap, where you take meat and vegetables, and you put them in a pita. I...used to have it all the time with lamb.

[dechagny]

That sounds very delicious! I wonder if there is a way for us to have them.

[solomonjihad]

It was...I used to have them all the time as a child.

[dechagny]

Really? Then they must be a sort of comfort food to you. I don't know if the hot pockets can compare, but you can always try them.

[When in the world would hot pockets have lamb in them]

[solomonjihad]

...I haven't had any in some time. Maybe I should try it...

[dechagny]

I think that is a good idea. Perhaps you can try tomorrow.

[Hahah. Raoul. Honey. No.]

[solomonjihad]

Yes...I can always ask Valjean to try it, right?

[dechagny]

I believe he would be more than happy to help! He is a very good man, and very adept when it comes to these unfamiliar changes.

[Hhhhhhhhhhhhahhhahah.......]

[solomonjihad]

I'm glad. He...is an honest man, it seems.

[aaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAH]

[dechagny]

Yes. He is...honest about himself. I know a few men of higher social stature than Monsieur Valjean who cannot come close to saying as much.

[Not ever Viscount is 100% honestly looking to be a noble man.]

[bestof]

[Oh, Raoul, Raoul, Raoul. You might be able to hold your liquor but Mrs. Hamilton cannot. She doesn't so much approach him mid-way through the evening as twirl to him while giggling like a school girl. She hasn't spilled a drop of her champagne though, well done.]

Monsieur De Chagny, would you like to dance?

[dechagny]

[Not gonna lie, girl, that's impressive. Raoul sets his glass aside and nods in a little bow, holding out a hand for her to take.]

Madame Hamilton, it would be my pleasure.

[After all, if you can twirl like that and not spill your drink, you've got to have some moves even while tipsy.]