(1310-04-18) Balls and Peacocks
Summary: A courtesan, a lady and a lord engage in conversation at the wine cellar, discussing among other things the upcoming ball at the Ducal Palace.
RL Date: 19/04/2018
Related: None
juliette imogen marco 

Wine Cellar — Noble District

Stairs lead down to the heavy oak door, above which the sign of the place, the likeness of a Hellene amphora spilling over with wine painted upon wood, swings lazily in the occasional breeze. Beyond that door the entrance hall comes into view, where various kegs and casks of differing sizes are arranged in oenological allure before the roughly hewn walls of ancient stone. There is a chill down here on hot summer days, that will be efficiently battled in the colder months through the heating of a giant hearth to the back. The place has a decidedly cavernous character, alcoves to the left and right offering seating at small tables for two or three. Lamps are dangling by chains from the ceiling, shades of milky glass work from La Serenissima offering sufficient lighting. There are no visible windows, which means lamps will be in use even during the day.

Further to the back there is a small hallway branching off from the main area, leading to a medium sized chamber where the bigger barrels are stored. Here, a larger group of up to eight people can sit about a round table of heavy oak, while they are being served the rarer vintages or even the heavier spirits that are stored in a wooden cabinet to the back. Staff is mostly male, clad in black breeches and white shirts with dark red vests, knowledgeable sommeliers of superior training that will be glad to wait on guests in person and offer insight into the variety of wines, red and white, from Terre d'Ange and a variety of specialties from abroad, that are available here.


It is a pleasant spring evening, the weather outside is warm and drizzling, but none of that seems to matter down here, in the wine cellar situated in the noble district of Marsilikos. It is a place, frequented by nobility, foremost, and those they have chosen to pay them company. Such as Juliette, a young brunette adept of Night Court beauty and Lis d'Or refinement. Clad in a long-sleeved dress of light green that leaves shoulders bare, a bodice tied neatly to pronounce a slender built and hint at a promise of curves, she sits at a table in one of the alcoves, a glass of wine before her on her table. Waiting for someone perhaps? Not too far away, a man leans against the wall, a guard of sorts who now and then glances her way.

A young woman finds her way down into the wine cellars. She is unaccompanied by courtesan, but looks none too sad about that, like many she'll drink now and later find her company. It doesn't take her long to get settled in with a glass of wine and she roams the room absently, smiling charmingly at any who engage her but remaining largely open to be approached or accompanied by any who find her interesting. Eventually she finds her way to a seat near, not with, Juliette and she offers the woman a warm smile and nod, not wanting to interrupt if she is waiting for someone, but being open to conversation should she wish to talk.

Marco pushes open the door a little while behind Imogen. He lets the door close behind him pausing now to consider the room. He goes nearly still as he considers it inspecting the various areas. After a few moments studying Imogen he makes his way towards her and he grins faintly, "Your Ladyship. We meet again, I never realized quite how small Marsilikos can be. Are you waiting for someone?" He asks of her curiously as his eyes then flick to Juliette as well considering and offering a mild smile surveying her interaction curiously before his gaze flicks back to Imogen.

Juliette is versed in the way of courtesy, and there are no obvious signs that give away she is a courtesan - the back is all covered, as is custom for an adept that yet to finish her marque. This is also the explanation for the guard who watches over her, to make sure she is safe when absent from her salon. Imogen receives a smile, and a shift in her seat, the closest thing she can manage that comes similar to a bow or curtsey whilst remaining seated. "Good eve, my lady," she says, her voice pleasant and melodious. Hazel eyes flick to Marco as he enters, and she inclines her head to him as well, a polite gesture. Unacquainted as she is with either of them, she quickly notices the lord and the lady seem to know each other, and so she leaves them for their conversation, at least for the moment.

The blonde's eyes shift to Marco when he approaches and a smirk curves her lips, amusement dancing in her blue-gray eyes. "Indeed, this is, what? Twince in as many days we've both favoured the same salon? We must be the most indulgent pair there ever was," she teases good naturedly before her hand gestures to the seat next to her with a bright smile. "Indeed I am not, would you care to fill that gap?" she inquires before her attention shifts back to the girl. "Good eve, I trust it finds you well?" she inquires hopefully.

Marco smiles warmly at Imogen's response, "So it seems. They are after all good days." He laughs, "Well I knew I was indulgent. I didn't realize others were the same." He points out and he grins, "I do enjoy… nevermind." He drops into a seat and looks to Juliette again as well and smiles, "Marsilikos always has such delightful company. Are you two acquainted?"

A fine smile curves the lips of the courtesan, her gaze lingering on the two others, when Marco joins Imogen at her table. She straightens into a graceful sitting poise, back straight, head tilted slightly, her attention resting lightly upon the exchange at the other table. Marco's question draws a light melodious chuckle from her lips and she shakes her head, "Indeed, we are not, my lord. My name is Juliette nó Lis d'Or, I am waiting here for my appointment, but apparently I'm either too early, or he is too late. Whatever the case, I am inclined to enjoy my moment of leisure."

The blonde smirks at the implication behind her cousins words and she shakes her head, allowing the man to take his seat and perhaps settle in with a glass of wine before opening her mouth to speak again. "It's my first time being my own person, my father sent me here to 'relax'. Was that probably keyword for 'you're twenty, go find a husband already'? sure, but meanwhile i tend to be /very/ indulgent of myself," she replies playfully before turning back to the courtesan. "Imogen no Dahlia de Mereliot, a pleasure to meet you. This one here is my cousin, Viscount Marco de Mereliot," she explains with a small smile as she gestures to the man next to her.

Marco ohs and tilts his head, "I've heard the Salon of Lis d'Or is well worth a visit but I can't say I've visited yet I do look forward to it. It's entirely a pleasure to meet you Juliette." He inclines his head as Imogen introduces him. "Well if you wish to indulge in some company with us until your appointment appears I'm sure I would more than welcome it." He looks to Imogen, "Do you often have difficulty relaxing? And well some consider twenty a quite mature age." He says playfully.

Imogen's introduction manages the trick to have a bit of awe flicker briefly in Juliette's eyes. "I am pleased to make your acquaintance," she says with a smile, "Lady Imogen." Her gaze shifts to Marco and that smile deepens. "I would like to. If Lady Imogen is agreeable to it," hazel eyes flick back to Imogen. "As for the salon, it definitely is worth a visit." A soft chuckle there, "I am certain that there will be a ball soon. Lis d'Or balls are few, but when they happen they are always well-attended."

Imogen chuckles softly and nods, there is amusement in her eyes as they meet with her cousin, but if he can't tell from what then she doesn't clue him in on it before turning back to Juliette. "I'm perfectly agreeable to you joining our conversation, of course," she agrees charmingly, seemingly having left whatever joke she was making in the past now. "I should expect nothing less of the salon that houses some of the ideals of Dahlia, or if not well-attended, then at least grand as can be," she agrees before turning back to her cousin at his jest. "I mean, from the age of six to the age of eighteen i was quite busy, sure it's been two years, but i still find myself feeling quite awkward when there's nothing to do, is that not normal?" she asks with a smirk.

Marco ohs, "A ball? I do enjoy a fine ball. Would you say the Lis d'Or have the biggest balls of them all?" He asks pausing a beat and then going on, "What's the usual dress of fashion for them?" He then shrugs his shoulders, "If I'm not out and about I tend to be reading so I tend to quickly fill my time."

Permission to join them is granted, and so Juliette rises from her seat, skirts rustling softly. Fingers curl about the stem of her glass and she walks over to sit down at their table. "Thank you," she smiles towards Imogen, "and you honor us with your praise," speaking for Lis d'Or. "As for balls…", she turns her gaze upon Marco, "they are grand, but not as grand as the balls held at the ducal palace. I believe there will be one of those in the next weeks, a masque. Her Grace has sent out invitations, I heard."

Imogen nods softly and smiles. "That she has, i'm still working on my costume, I'm not really well equipped yet for super fancy occasions like balls, but i've got the seamstresses working on it," she replies mischeviously before shaking her head. "It is unfair to compare the events of a salon to the events a duchess holds, as they will inevitably compare infavourably, simply because a person of rank often has a lot more money to throw around," she points out with a small smirk. "And if there is ever a woman known for her art and grandeur, it is her grace," she explains as her normally calm and polite tone leaks into affectionate, though just why is unknown.

Marco seems to very much enjoy the discussion as he reclines back and he nods his head at that, "Well it certainly seems it would be unfortunate for me to attend. It seems rather conveniently located." He smiles at Imogen, "Well they are always a fun opportunity to observe the various groupings of the city. I'm quite looking forward to it though I suppose I'll have to decide how much I might wish to….peacock."

Juliette inclines her head, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "The Spring Banquet is always a thing to look forward to. And I've heard some nobles travel from other provinces to Marsilikos, just to be there in time to attend it. And while our salon does have coin," her gaze shifts to Imogen, "you are right, of course. Nothing comes close to the splendour encountered at the Dome of the Lady." Marco's remark earns him a glance. "Will the peacock be your theme for the masque then?", Juliette inquires lightly, lifting a finger to twirl a loose strand of her dark brown hair.

Imogen smirks softly as she eyes her cousin at the courtesans words. "You know….I could arrange that, make him peacock for the night, I think the experience might be rather fun," she draws playfully before her eyes drift back to Juliette. "I of course never meant to imply the salon /lacks/ coin, just that i've never truly seen one outdo the events of the grande's. I'm very much open to being wrong someday though," she replies warmly.

Marco claps his hands brightly, "That's not a terrible idea. Perhaps I shall quite adopt it. Though I do wonder if it won't be a tad common. What do you think?" He asks of the two and tilts his head clearly thoughtfully lost in thought at the idea.

"Of course." Juliette dips her head, hazel eyes holding Imogen's gaze for a moment, the expression warm and with that faint hint of amusement. "It would not become a salon well to try and surpass a duchesse, don't you agree?" With a glitter in her eyes, she comments towards Marco, "The nature of a peacock is that it is quite singular in grace and beauty. I think you should go for that idea. There is a tailor at the marketplace… as for accessories, we have a few creative Lis d'Or who might provide you with ideas for the mask." She lifts her glass of wine, only to set it down again, when the sommelier arrives to take orders. At least Marco is without wine as of yet.

Imogen chuckles softly and shrugs. "I've never been of the opinion that one's title means that one has to throw the best parties, especially if it is unintentional. I certainly know that none in my family would be too put out, most of us admire beauty and elegance, even if we are not the epitome," she explains, and if she glances a little too long at Marco to be coincidental, well so be it. "But marco, by all means if you wish to be a peacock, i shall support your decision," she replies warmly, with that teasing edge to her words as she toasts him before the sommelier arrives.

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