The Impromptu Patronage Gathering - Part 1
[ooc: this is a completely open mixer, you may come even if you arent looking to help the conversation moving.]
Sept. 11, 2022, 12:30 p.m.
Arx - Ward of the Compact - The Dire Bee Lounge
Comments and Log
2 Leary House Guards arrives, following Ilmia.
The Dire Bee Lounge is... not set for anything, this is a casual gathering and there is a very casual Mabelle sitting by the bar, as casual as Mabelles are, considering. There is a beehive with honeycombs on the bar, to be taken if desired and she is smiling to those arriving, "Good afternoon, I pray you have a good week!".
Ilmia enters and spots Mabelle. Approaching she takes a seat and a bite of honeycomb. "Mm. You too!"
Mabelle drops a large wooden beehive.
Ilmia takes a scrumptious whiskey infused honeycomb from a large wooden beehive.
Ilira sashays into the Dire Bee with characteristic vivacity, her step and smile spry and her hair cascading over her shoulders in a luxuriant mass down her back. Rich red leather flexes and reshapes to her every movement, lush curves and creamy skin bared in glimpses throughout the ensemble. On her forehead burns a many-faceted bloodstone, while twin spikes of the same boost her heihgt by three inches at the heels of her boots. Pausing at the entrance to snatch a honeycomb, she then weaves her way through tables and chairs toward the bar where she hops up on a barstool beside Mabelle and Ilmia. "I did!" she grins at the Laurent, her blue eyes gleaming as she takes a bite of her treat.
Mabelle smiles to Ilmia, "Hello Lady Leary, its lovely seeing you in the city, it has been a while. Or has it? Or is it just me?", she wonders and smiles anyway, "Oh, Ilira starling, arent you a sight for sore eyes, tell me, both of you, what was so magnificent about your week?"
Ilira gets a scrumptious whiskey infused honeycomb from a large wooden beehive.
Mabelle has joined the an ornate bar with velvet padded seats.
Ilmia takes another bite of honeycomb, chews and swallows, and then grins. "Yes I've been holed up in my study recently. Lost track of time with research. My week? Hmm" taps her fingers and shrugs "Same as any other week I suppose."
Ilira places down her honeycomb. Leaning forward on her barstool, she offers Mabelle a quick but heartening embrace, the warmth of which lingers when she draws away, as does a hint of her perfume. "I'm glad to see you too!" she smiles at her, her large eyes kind and genuine. She reclines back on her stool and lifts the honeycomb again, replying, "It was a surprisingly full week, for the lack of activity in the city. Speaking of, I was happy to hear of this; I've felt a certain emptiness the last few days."
Mabelle confesses to both Ilmia and Ilira, "It seems people's desire to socialize is quite lacking lately but you cannot blame any of us, with the looming troubles. I've had quite a few interesting conversations this week, people sharing their research and several artists who donated or promised me art pieces, so I'm excited for those. What are you looking into recently, Ilmia, if you wish to share?"
Ilmia waves her hand in a small clockwise circle. "My mind is still trying to stop thinking of my studies. And I haven't caught up on recent news. But conducting diplomacy with the Isles is a thought"
"Oh, I don't fault anyone," Ilira nods, her curls bouncing lightly, "And it's not like I'm a regular to the socials anyway. But...when they're lacking, I realize I miss them, you know?" She falls quiet, munching delicately on her honeycomb while she listens to Ilmia. "Might want to catch up on the news before you do," she winks at the redhead after swallowing. "Oh my, I should create something for you!" She ducks her gaze sheepishly from Mabelle. "We'll see if I can muster the energy."
Nigel, harried diplomat - nervous minister - average artist - arrives. With zero fanfare. Without even his feline companion draped over his shoulder. His black eyes are bright, "Good day! I heard that there is someone here I need to speak with about joining the Salon?"
Mabelle turns her eyes curiously to Nigel, "What salon?", she tilts her head amused just as two guards carry in a huge honeysilk roses arbor, "Oh goodness me, put it down by the door and we'll move it to the gallery later", she looks astonished, smiling to Ilmia next, "Its kind of you to want to help, you truly should catch up if you do however. I'm not very versed in it, Nigel? Are you? Ilira?", she then adds to the latter, "I'd be happy to, there is a fashion segment for certain".
Mabelle drops An arched arbour covered in honeysilk roses and satin flowers.
Ilmia nods to Mabelle and glances at the arbour. Then to Nigel "Oh the Dream?"
"Salon. Ah -- with topics of conversation, debate, and perhaps - with - a focus on the arts during these uncertain times of war. It seems as though we are all of a similar mind, wishing to revitalize the city in our ways." Nigel clarifies, glancing toward Ilira. Then, Ilmia, "There is more than one Salon? How curious." With a glance lastly toward Mabelle. "No, I don't know of any current news, only your gallery opening, my lady Mabelle."
Ilira glances up and over to Nigel with her huge, lustrous eyes. "Me? Certainly! You must be Lord Nigel, and I must apologize for my lack of correspondence. Forgive me," she says with a little quirk of her lips. "No," she shakes her head at Ilmia, "The Salon headed by Duke Hadrian. I am a Moderator, but we are very quiet at the moment." She taps the barstool to her right in invitation to Nigel, the three metallic chains over the back of her hand swaying between her bracelet and her ring. "We could use new members."
Mabelle clasps her hands, "Oh I always enjoy discussions at the salon. I used to sit there as a wallflower and one day I braved myself enough to participate but its only because I had full understanding of the topic. It felt...", she grins, "It felt marvelous!"
Ilmia nods "I've heard of some of the old debates at the Salon. Fascinating conversations."
Nigel has joined the an ornate bar with velvet padded seats.
Nigel finds a place to settle, eyes wide, glancing from person to person. His full lips are bitten again with a passing thought. "That's - that's all right. Not everyone I write to has the time to write back to me, and I understand and appreciate that." He admits with a modest shrug of his shoulders, "You are likely very busy. It's a pleasure to meet you, Moderator Ilira, and you Lady -- " toward Ilmia. "I am Lord Nigel Riven, and it's a pleasure to meet you as well." Nigel turns to look toward Mabelle, smiling at her, "It is a lovely feeling to speak on a topic on which you are passionate about."
Ilmia glances out "I'm afraid it is time for me to depart for my duties. It was a pleasure conversing with you all. And do feel free to let me know if there is anything I can help with."
2 Leary House Guards leaves, following Ilmia.
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