Margot Gets Ready for Dinner

Margot sat in silence, her head beginning to pound as Dara and Desrianne discussed - rather loudly and assertively - as to what it was the Princess should wear to dine with the Countess. It had been a trying day and no amount of wine seemed capable of soothing her nerves. With no sign of Kendall and the dinner hour nearly upon them, the bell already rung, the last thing she needed was her two confidantes squabbling like mad hens. She loved her Caresse and knew she was very protective of her position with Margot; but Dara was of Chaos, and Margot needed her knowledge and familiarity to see her through this meal.

"Enough." Margot stated firmly, looking at both women through the vanity's reflection. It was a tone that was not to be trifled with; and the expression she wore left little question as to whether there was room for debate. "Dara, please make an appropriate selection from the garments available. I trust your eye and knowledge of protocols and etiquette given the circumstances." Her eyes flickered to the elder woman, "Desrianne, please come and assist with my hair. Before anything energies are spent, Dara," Margot's reflection returned to the other woman, "Is there a preferred or customary way that long hair should be worn, or is that left to personal taste and expression?"

"What is your purpose to coming to this affair?" Dara ask, looking over the selection with a frown. "And your interests, once there…"

"The Countess has requested our audience for dinner. My immediate interest is to not insult; beyond that, I hope to observe and learn. As I do not know who this Countess is or how formal an invitation this is to be, I am at your mercy to ensure I do not at least present myself a fool upon first glance." Margot drank deeply from the glass of wine, "Beyond that, any acts of idiocy or lasting impressions are my own to wear."

Dara nods to this, looking back over the offerings before deciding a two. As to the hair, she looks to the jewelry boxes, then ribbons, before getting to work.

"Then we will dress you with such a disinterest." Dara says, looking to the choice of weapons as well. "It is not unknown, placing yourself above the concerns or desires of your Host. The line sometimes thins, but it can keep you out of many of their games if that is your desire."

Margot's eyes narrow with keen interest as she turns in the vanity chair, her head cocking to the side slightly. "Please explain further. Am I understanding correctly that I should make a point of dressing above the Countess' station and carry a bored, aloof countenance during this meal if I am to be allowed the opportunity to watch and listen?"

"Better… No, its not possible with so little." Dara replies, finding some pieces she likes. "But as Lord Kendall's companion," She gives a faint curse, for not looting his jewelry box first. "so entertainment, there will be some sort of what you would consider a game. It usually last for only the meal, and being new… so you will be the focus. But we will craft your appearnce to show a disinterest to said game, making not a demand to avoidence but mere boredom." Done Dara returns to her Mistress side. "You will need to parry some verbal probing, even wrapped insults but if you hold yourself in check… it should go fine since Lord Kendall will be there for most of the barbs."

Once more out of her depth and effectively pushed aside, in spite of Margot's effort, Desrianne eventually claims brush and comb while Dara searches for the appropriate attire and jewelry. Lips pressed into a thin line, she stands behind her Poppy and begins brushing her hair in long, careful strokes. Indeed, the Lordling should look to affording Margot some protection at a time like this, but he was as yet nowhere to be seen. The maid does not reiterate this aloud, though. Margot surely already was feeling his absence, and pointing it out would just make it worse.

"You say … game," Margot repeats slowly, "But the focus on me is only as a taunt to Lord Kendall. Yet, that does not guarantee that I will not be ignored entirely nor does that mean that I will not receive the attention of a sharp tongue or venomous wit. It is, therefore, the best course of action to uphold the vision of companion; more so, a quiet and quaint accessory at his side not worthy of a second glance. And should I happen to be drawn into conversation with questions I am unable to dismiss or redirect, it is with a civil tongue I will respond, gracious and still indifferent and aloof."

Dara nods in agreement to all her Lady just said.

Margot rose, to examine what gowns Dara had selected, "And it shall be imperative that I do not rise to the occasion; no matter how disparaging the inference may be of my character or in the Lord's … preferences and proclivities. No flash of emotion in the eyes, no flush in the cheeks, no tightening of the jaw to keep my tongue on a tight leash. Any insult leveled, directly or indirectly at my person for Lord Kendall to answer is his to do so… and he will do so to whatever extent he sees fit. Regardless of what his feelings may be… and no matter how he responds, impassioned or benign, I must remain the picture of calm indifference. Because that is the game. Correct?"

"You must pick your battles, Milady." Dara answer. "If it goes beyond a line you can tolerate, then speak-up of course. Lord Brisbane, and Lord Kendall should be able to defuse the worst, or counter." She picks at the gown or jewelry, not pleased they don't have better. "But you are the child here, and none will be able not to tease you." She looks to Margot, as to underline this point. "Weakenss is never a virtue in the Courts, even if allowances are made due to your situation. But if you wish, I can speak for you when their questions become annoying. For while I lost my rank, they still need to fear my wrath."

"My situation as a guest? As companion to Lord Kendall? As an Amberite? As a child?" There was no venom in the questions as Margot's eyes went from gown to Lady, very much aware of her displeasure in the options available. "Is there nothing to be done to make anything available satisfactory? Perhaps we should just wrap me in one of those billowy robes Kendall is so fond of and turn it into an elegant frock…" she gave Dara a sidelong glance, the quirk of her lips reflecting that while she _did_ understand the seriousness of the moment, there had to be something amusing about the thought of Margot drowning in one of Kendall's formal robes.

"We will have to simply make do…" Dara mutters, her mind elsewhere for a moment before coming over to help Margot change. "I won't be that concerned about any mistakes tonight. Tinor is a minor house, in the service of Hendrake… Countess Anira, while having position, has less say then you would think in matters. As long as you do not agree to a affair or marriage, we can take tonight as a mere trial run for later events once back in Chanicut."

"That sounds reasonable." Margot agreed, "However, which circumstance specifically were you referring to; just so that we are both clear. It seems that there are many situations with which I blunder into - child, courtesan, Amberite, stranger - is there one in particular that I should be more offended by or less offended by?" Again, her queries did not come with a bite, but as one trying to gain the working mechanics to muster through and worrying about nuance and finesse when there is time to study them.

"And what is it that you are looking for specifically? Perhaps Desrianne or Rory may be able to help you put your hands on it. They packed the trunks."

"I would say all, yet none…" Dara explains. "As long as they work on that puzzle, the Countess isn't asking other more personal questions."

"And what is it that you are looking for specifically? Perhaps Desrianne or Rory may be able to help you put your hands on it. They packed the trunks."

"I was hoping to make a statement that you weren't his alone…" She shares, which can't make Margot happy. "Even if you only have eyes for this Chanicut, it won't hurt to stir the pot just a little. He, and any Tinor about the table could have less control of their emotions then they believe." In thought, Dara looks to her Lady's hair. "Since you start at so little, any step no matter how small would be a advantage."

"How would you do that when we only have my items and his? There are red gowns, blue gowns, black gowns, silver gowns, green gowns; gowns that depending upon how the light catches it changes colors. He has not given me a brooch or pendant or ring or any other piece of jewelry or bauble that would announce to the world that I belong to him. I don't understand what more it is you are trying to accomplish. Please explain."

Finally settling on the gown of silver, since it would flow with the colors of Chanicut which her date would surely wear. Yet unhappy enough with the gown to start alternating it with her hand, which now looks strange and swollen. Tiny tentacles upon Dara's hand now, cutting fabric to harvest the threads which are passed to other tentacles that switch and alter. Cutting the front low enough for more cleavage, even as it tighens the waist and show a bit more ankle and bare shoulders. No near a prefect job, yet considerable since Dara is only using her hands and shape-shifting abilities to do so.

"The color, cut, the body language, your attitude, words… there are a thousand ways to show a interest." Dara answers, as she works. "Its not like I'm asking you to respond as a War Maiden would, even if a little blood could help." She frowns a little, seeing Margot is still confuse. "I hope, you are able to show both a disinterest and still be able to carve out a place of yours alone. As My Lady, they would expect that as would I." Dara gives a sigh, pausing in her efforts. "Do whatever you wish, its not like we can't kill them all if you mess-up too badly."

The plunging neckline with sleeves clinging from wrist to just barely kiss the tops of shoulders and a bodice that left little wonder an no need for a corset as to her Lady's feminine form since it now clung to the curve of her hip before cascading like a waterfall to pool around her feet; It was most assuredly Desrianne who would have difficulty with the gown than Margot. Somehow, magically it seemed, the gown managed to enhance the swell of her bosom with a healthy display of her cleavage without crossing the line to the sloppy appearance of a saggy breasted bar wench.

"Then I will do my level best to not swoon too much so that we are not forced to kill those who have been kind enough to offer their hospitality and deliver us to Chaos." Margot said, her tone a more than a little flat. She had not intention of purposefully of making a debacle or incident out of dinner. She would present herself as best as she was able and share just enough to satisfy curiosity, nothing more.

"The gown is lovely, thank you." Margot offered with genuine sincerity as she admired the reflection in the mirror. "Are there protocols or signals that should be avoided in how my hair is done? Do you have recommendations? Or shall we leave it to what looks attractive?" The voice that addressed her attendant was one of authority, seeking advisement rather than the nervous child she was feeling like inside. "The same question for jewelry? As there are no baubles from Kendall, is there concern for what is worn or may I be adorned as best compliments the gown and its wearer?"

While the Lordling provoked the fierce protectiveness of a mother bear over her cubs in Desrianne, the Lady Dara was a chilling presence for the maid. Moreso, though, was Margot's obvious preference for Dara's advice, sage as it was in this situation, and far more knowledgable than Desrianne's would be.

The gown, though… was enough to elicit a raised eyebrowed expression of dismay that her Poppy could appear so… so… common. Yet Margot donned it and modeled it without so much as a wink of an eyelash to indicate discomfort or distress. So quickly was she becoming enamored with these Chaosian ways.

"With… that gown…" she begins, her voice strained. "To… enhance the look, wearing the hair up would be the best way to draw attention to your other… assets." She goes to the chest and begins pulling hairpins out for Dara to use.

Dara shakes her head in the negtive, using the same hand from the dress to start to weave Margot's hair. The other, picks a few pieces of jewelry to add as she lace up the hair.

"The Maidens have many styles to express, and this one I'm doing a mix of three." Dara explains, the tentacles on her fingers growing longer to handle the complex braiding. "While it would confuse any Hendrake, Tinor is far less informed so would merely be impressed you would be so brave to wear your hair so without being of the House." She pauses in her work, to make sure Margot understands. "That makes you dangerous in their eyes, but one you must near repeat near any Hendrake Maiden…" Dara takes a breath, trying to soften her next words. "They would gut you, without waiting for a explanation."

"The Countess would recognize it as being Hendrake inspired without knowing what it signified…" Margot repeated aloud. The updo created an intricate nest of complex plaits weaving into masterful piece of art, the streaks of silver and glimmers of the occasional gemstone capturing the light and against the black of her hair, looking like a single star lost in the darkest night.

"Is there anything else that will complete the look?" Margot asked staring in the mirror, her smile reflecting how pleased she was with the style.

"Him…" Dara says with a smile, not displeased with her work.

"Unfortunately, that is something I am unable to produce at the moment. Thank you, Dara." Margot's reflection replied. "Will Lord Brisbane be joining us and if so, will he play the role of escort if Kendall is not present when we are ready to meet with the Countess?" Despite her efforts to remain calm, Margot knew that Kendall would not delay in returning to prepare for a formal meal, no matter how insignificant he may think it may be. He was far too entrenched in the game and far too respectful; and she knew that her concern was in her eyes.

Desrianne fades into the background as Dara expertly made up her Lady to look… the way the Hendrake thought best. The maid had to admit that Margot looked fetching in her newly revised gown. That is, if she worked hard to see the girl as just another noble, not her Poppy, she could almost imagine that the gown was completely appropriate to this situation.

The maid paces quietly around the room, tidying the bed, picking up some discarded clothing — keeping busy, listening to the conversation. So it was she who noticed it first, the creeping, crawling… THING that was oozing on dozens of tiny tentacle feet out of a ventlike cluster of branches in the wall near the floor by the bed. She gasps in horror, backing away with the back of her hand pressed against her lips to stifle a scream.

Back to the list of Kendall's threads.
Dressing Up for Dinner

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