@Matisse Dubois @Caden S. Freemont
Daniil nodded genially to the sable marten, focusing on Caden's remarks and questions. His eyes scanned the program, mulling over the timeline.
"Alwyn requested that I make a lap of the building," he noted,
"though he was non-specific about the timing. I would consider that sufficiently vague for us to linger for Asta's performance, wouldn't you say?"
~~~
@Ivo Suresight
Marianna winced as Ivo dipped her a bit too far, feeling her headfur sweep the floor as her footpaws slipped. In retrospect, dipping had been a bad idea; she recalled too late that it was considered an advanced dance move due to the risk of injury if performed incorrectly. Much like the famed lift and twirl from one of her favorite operas,
Wild Waltzing, she'd let her confidence turn into hubris in attempting to recreate what actually required years of practice to achieve.
As they rose back to standing, Marianna caught the sound of pain escaping Ivo's lips and noticed the new stiffness in his movements.
"You're hurt," she whispered, expression laced with concern.
"Let's sit down, please. Dancing through it will make it worse." She nodded behind him and added,
"There's an open table there. Let's rest a bit before we try moving again."
~~~
@Jeshal the Ironclaw @Vihmastaja
Morgan was familiar enough with the sea breeze and the tang of salt water that she could detect a fish story brewing - but 'Gates if it wasn't compelling. When the fox got distracted in his tail by the clatter and crash of falling trays and breaking glass, Morgan couldn't resist a quip.
"'Ah, Bully never changes?' An' how'd yer fish respond t' that little nuggest a' wisdom?" she couldn't resist teasing, glancing to Vihma with a grin that invited the weasel to share in the joke.
~~~
@FinnianBrightfur @Alwyn Ryalor
Mina Rose braced herself for a scolding and even the possibility of those dreaded two words that would send her home in tears, but it didn't come. Instead, a piebald black squirrel, of all beasts, stepped in and castigated the maitre d' so thoroughly that Mina Rose was left dumbfounded. Had that really just happened? She'd grown up in the Tookumberry Keys, which was woodlander majority, so squirrels were not unknown to her, but ones in positions of such power were an anomaly given everything she'd heard about the Vulpinsula. Admittedly, that wasn't much; most of the travelers who came by her parents' tavern tended to regard the Imperium as boring, instead regaling the young vixen with tales of far-flung lands. She was only now realizing how ill-prepared that made her for this event. All she could do was numbly return to picking up glass, trying to stave off the impending sense of doom washing over her.
When this handsome Sir Alwyn intervened, moving in to clean up the glass for her, Mina Rose nearly burst into tears there and then. She'd been through a lot in the past month: losing her parents, then finding out they weren't her parents at all, and apparently she was the hidden offspring of a presumed-deceased naval captain and the sister to a serial killer. She was still processing
that little tidbit and figuring out how she felt about it. In the meantime, she was trying to rebuild her own life and finding out just how ill-prepared she was. Now, in a city that had shown her little kindness so far, she'd met a handsome fox who seemed actually invested in her well-being. It was almost too much for her.
"Thank ya kindly, Sir Alwyn," she choked out, wiping at her eyes with the back of her paw, then the palm when that proved ineffective.
"If ye'll pardon my Alkamarian, it's... it's been a 'Gates of a time fer me, an' a kindly face an' a listenin' ear soun's mighty nice." She let out a small chuckle that seemed like it might border on hysterics for a moment before she reigned it in.
"I reckon I shoul' get back t' the kich'n afore I get m'self fired, bu', well, I'll look fer ya on m' nex' break," she offered hopefully.
"Maybe we can sneak in a glass a' that fancy champagne."
~~~
@Orina Emberkin @Talinn Ryalor
As Kilaris showed his face, already visibly inebriated, a dozen witty comebacks and takedowns presented themselves to Dusk.
"A fantastic party indeed, Kilaris! You must introduce me to the beast responsible for it." "Astonishingly, the event so far appears to have zero casualties, though I doubt that will hold once you begin your speech." "I think tonight may set the record for the longest the Opera House has gone without being bombed. Tell me, Kilaris, what does more to repel the anarchists: your face, your speech, or your smell?"
Amazingly, she instead stilled her tongue.
"It is a wonderful party, Afton," she addressed the minister, swallowing any sarcasm and allowing sincerity to reign.
"The catering is delightful, the entertainment superb, and the company is eclectic and colorful. I fear you may have set the bar too high; I don't know how you will ever top this for your next event."
Alright, maybe she couldn't resist a
tiny bit of repartee at the rat's expense, but the rest of the comment was true. It was in part a reflection of how much she knew Orina had undoubtedly worked to make sure this event was of such caliber, of course, but also an extension of a kind word to Kilaris on this, the last birthday of his life. After all, couldn't she at least give him the gift of dying happy? She rested her paw more gently on her husband's shoulder, letting herself relax. Everything was already in motion; all she had to do was wait.
