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Qaerris and Quincy meet at an Andaris house party

The capital city of the of Rynmere, here is seated the only King in Idalos.
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27th of Ashan, 716
More and more, it seems, Evelyn is calling me for my escort services. How... nice.

Qaerris let a slight chuckle escape his lips as he read the note that he was given by a servant of the Andaris line. As he read it, he let a moment pass before he realized that the servant was not dismissing herself from his company.

"Our lady tells me to bring you to her. She has your attire on the ready for when we arrive."

A nod moved the harlot's head as he picked up his coat, letting himself out of the house and locking it behind him. The walk was, as it always was, long, but it was by no means unpleasant. The roads, as they led towards the property of the higher class, became nicer, better taken care of, without the intrusions of garbage and the rank stench of un-showered, filthy individuals. A deep breath was taken at this point, before Qaerris advanced, entering the property by its entrance for the very first time.

It's actually hilarious. I've been here... 30 times? More? Yet this would be the first time I actually used the door. How times have changed.

It was a simple thing, to be led forward and towards Evelyn. Familiar hallways were traversed, though he need make the rouse of not knowing his way. Following rather than leading, it wasn't until Qaerris was behind a closed door with his Lady that a knowing smile materialized upon his features. Evelyn turned to face the Mortalborn, her nose crinkling in mock disgust as she told him,

"You won't be seen with me wearing that... It's a good thing I was prepared."


Qaerris was pointed towards an outfit, the harlot nodding as he waited for his client to tell him anything else he needed to know. A cough parted her lips before she cleared her throat to speak,

"Put that on later. However, a word of advice, Qaerris, keep watch for one of my... cousins. Quincy Andaris has all of the charms of a plowhorse, with none of the beauty. He's a pleasant enough sort, but every bit of him, his appearance especially, reeks of an outrageous quality that does not befit nobility."

A laugh escaped Qaerris' lips as he undressed without shame before his Lady.

"Are you afraid, my lady, that he'll pollute my mind? Of course, the most gracious Evelyn Andaris wouldn't tolerate such a thing... But there's other things to think about, now."

After all, she had brought him to her home several hours early. Clearly, she wanted something else out of him before they left.
- - -
Three hours pass, the last of which was spent in preparation for an event to take place in one of the houses of the Andaris. Evelyn remained vague with Qaerris about the details, assuring him that he would know in time. When the pair arrived, Qaerris opened the door to their carriage, assisting Evelyn with her exit and walking with her into the estate.

A smile cast upon Qaerris' lips as he felt Evelyn's arm loop through his. The two walked forward, both preceded and followed by a couple in turn, a sort of line forming as guests arrived in tandem, one by one entering and clearing themselves with the hosts. Seating was assigned, Qaerris and Evelyn seated with several other members of the Andaris family, no doubt all of them as trivial to the inheritance of the line as Evelyn herself was. Not being named an heir did not insinuate that the royals did not celebrate with one another.

A gaze cast about the ballroom, which had been richly decorated with satin tablecloth, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, scented wax candles sticking inside each individual lantern. Each candle smelled of a soft touch of lavender, the scent permeating through the air as Qaerris looked down to find a table set with seven pieces of silverware, a hand reaching forward to feel the authentic silver that lay before him.

Lovely... The silverware alone is likely worth more than my house.

A shrug moved Qaerris' shoulders as he wondered to himself when the alcohol would be served. Noting the presence of a bar, the Mortalborn decided that it would be best to simply fetch it for himself.

"I'll re-join your shortly, my Lady. Allow me the pleasure of looking around."

A nod moved Evelyn's lips as she waved Qaerris off, continuing a conversation she had been consumed by. The Mortalborn rose to his feet, which began to take him towards the bar, the man ordering himself a glass of fine whiskey. Once it was served, he'd begin to wander.
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Quincy Andaris
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“Quincy.”
“Quincy.”

“QUINCY.”


The voice abruptly shattered the blissful silence. The sound of curtains being drawn back and the sudden light that exploded into the room drew a loud groan from the large bed that sat centered against the far wall. A figure lay sprawled out on the sheets, half undressed apparently having failed at the task, clothes scattered across the room from the previous night. Pants and a single boot remained on the motionless form, face buried in the bed cover.


The moan wasn’t considered an acceptable response apparently and the woman from whom the voice came from stalked across the room and glared down at the man. She slapped the uncovered foot and placed both hands on her hips.


“Quincy! You need to get up! The party is in an hour and you’re still in bed! Did you drink yourself into a stupor again?”


The man stirred and groaned in reply. Finally he rolled over, blinking blurrily, the light stabbing at his eyes painfully and winced.


“Eli, for the love of all that is good, close the curtains! What are we, savages?! The whole point of curtains is to keep the light OUT.” The nobleman looked up at his sister and he gave her a lethargic grin. “And drinking? What gave you that impression? I’m veeeeery responsible. Everyone says so.”


Elise rolled her eyes at him and snorted disbelievingly. “You couldn’t even undress properly and you say I’M the savage…” She shook her head in disgust and flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Well I’m going to get ready for the party. You better be there or father will be very upset.”


Quincy grunted in response and rested his head back on the bed. “Please. Father wouldn’t give a rat’s arse if I didn’t showed up. He’d rather lock me up underground than ‘embarrass’ him in public.” He lifted his hands in the air, quoting his word for emphasis, sarcastically. A sudden thought struck him and he lifted his head.


“Our...brother won’t be there…will he?” A sad look came over his sister’s face though she quickly hid it.


“No, he has to attend another matter and is gone for the time being.” Quincy nodded once, relief flooding through him.


“Maybe it won’t be the worst then.” He muttered. She tsked but ignored his comment and sauntered out of the room, calling out behind her one last time.


“Be ready in the hour!”


The nobleman’s head still pounded from the previous evening and he rubbed his temple, trying to ease the pain. He called out as he heard his sister leave.


“Eli, close the curtains! ELIIIIIIIII! …Eli? Aaaaand she’s gone.”


Quincy sighed mournfully.


He finally rolled over and propelled himself out of the bed towards a small stand that stood next to the door. Snagging a half empty bottle of wine, he uncorked it with his teeth and brought it to his lips taking a large swig. Letting out a large belch, Quincy smirked to himself.


“Savage indeed…”

--

Quincy and Elise Andaris strode arm in arm through the doors of the estate, the herald announcing their names. His sister nodded in polite acknowledgement but Quincy slipped his arm out from his sister and lifted one hand in the arm before bringing it down beside him in a gallant bow. He straightened up, a grin on his face. Elise just shook her head. She started towards the first group of nobles.


The second born veered away from her and she turned slightly, a frown touching her lips. “And where do you think YOU’RE going?”


The well dressed Andaris cocked an eyebrow. “I have pressing matters that I must attend to. I am sorry my dear.” Her eyes narrowed.


“You’re going to the bar, aren’t you.”


He looked at her innocently and slipped into his nobleman charade that he donned for parties such as this. To play the game, one must master it.


“Why Eli my dear, why would you ever think such atrocious thoughts about one such as myself? I am but an innocent.”


Before she could respond he grinned at her one last time, wiggling his eyebrows at her and turned towards the bar. Reaching it, he knocked on the wood, drawing the bartender’s attention, not bothering to look if he was busy serving someone else.


“Andaris here. Lucky you it's an important one. I'll take a glass of wine.”


Quincy sighed to himself and took the glass that was offered. He lifted it to his lips and looked out over the crowds. He was in no mood to mingle with the “family”. He could already feel their judgmental looks so coyly hidden behind their polite smiles and curtsies. He turned back towards the bartender.


“Might as well make it the bottle.”


He had no intention of leaving the bar that night.
Last edited by Quincy Andaris on Mon Apr 18, 2016 5:22 am, edited 2 times in total. word count: 833
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'Andaris here. Lucky you it's the important one.'

The Mortalborn found his eyebrows raised as he looked at the amber fluid contained within the six ounce glass that lay on the counter in front of him. Qaerris couldn't help the curiosity he felt, but it was not enough to compel him to turn away from the drink at hand. Tipping his head back, the harlot raised his glass to his lips, whiskey flowing dosn his throat. A powerful burn permeated within his throat, warmth welling within his stomach as a breath caught in his throat. Truly, there was no comparison to the pleasure of an evening's first drink. It didn't hurt that this evening was laden with some of the finest spirits that the Mortalborn could ever hope to taste. Eyes closed for a moment as a satisfied sigh parted the man's lips, which smacked together a moment afterwards as he pushed the glass out of his way, knocking on the bar to signal the next round.

Is that the entire bottle? Qaerris found an incredulous expression cast upon his features as he watched the bartender take a glass and bottle to a man with wild, heavily curled tresses set upon his head. When Qaerris found that this man's voice was one and the same as what he had heard earlier, the savvy Mortalborn began to draw some conclusions.

An important Andaris with a penchant for wine? This must be the one Evelyn mentioned earlier. What was his name... Quentin? No... that's my alias. Quincy? No - wait, yes. That was it, wasn't it?

Wonderful.


Qaerris found himself sitting right next to the one Andaris that Evelyn explicitly asked him not to associate with.

Which means, of course, that I HAVE to befriend him. Evelyn will love it, I'm sure.

Once Qaerris turned towards Quincy, the Mortalborn parted his lips to note,

"Is that Lord Quincy Andaris? How wonderful it is to make your acquaintance! My name is Quentin Alvina and I'm a very good friend of your cousin, Evelyn. She's told me all about you. Only good things, of course."

The words were obviously sarcastic, but it was more geared towards Evelyn's taste in people and less so in an actual belief that Quincy was by any means less than respectable. Of course he wasn't, one could already tell by his overly extravagant wear, but in truth, the Mortalborn did not find a single fuck to give about it. After all, Qaerris was no more respectable. Qaerris' tone did not take any of the sarcasm, his carefully emphasized words intent on brushing a slight amount of flattery into his intonation.

Part of the Mortalborn wondered if he was even in need of using an alias in this situation. However, as he'd already introduced himself to no less than six people with this name, it only made sense for the charade to continue until it was no longer necessary.

"You and your cousin both seem to love wine. Is that an Andaris thing? Or do both of you find yourself to be black sheep?"

Perhaps this question would hit Quincy close to home, but Qaerris was ever so interested. After all, he was due a chance to learn about the family that paid for so many of his expenses.
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Quincy drummed a finger along the stem of his glass, eyeing the individuals that made up the masses. He knew what his father would want him to do and that would be to make his rounds and make a good impression. Most likely fix the damaged reputation that he seemed to have created for himself. Or so his father said he had. He took another sip of his wine. He could care less. Besides, that was what his sister was here for. She would represent the immediate family and impress the relatives with her wit and charm.


No one could refute him making an appearance at any rate. He had been announced, heads turned, rumors no doubt spread, thus his job here was done. It wasn’t that he didn’t like parties; he did, he just disliked his family trying to force him into being what they wanted him to be.


So absorbed in his own thoughts, he didn’t even realize he had been standing beside someone until a voice spoke up and his name was mentioned. He tilted his head towards the voice and saw what might have been the most attractive man alive.


That is what the ladies would deeeefinitely call a strong jaw. I bet if I punched it I’d break my hand.


He imagined swinging his metal chalice at the mortalborn’s face.


Definitely dent my chalice... MAN that's a strong jaw...think he'd let me touch it? No, that's ridiculous...or iiiiiiis it...Yeah. Yeah it is...


The thoughts flashed through his mind in a split second and without hesitation he knew he was standing beside a man who got what he wanted. He was too attractive not to. Someone worth talking with to pass the evening with at any rate. He was awfully chipper though, he literally oozed charm in the few sentences he spoke. Someone had been around nobles before. The Andaris had been around enough of them to recognize a mask when it was donned. He wore the same one.


Quincy flashed him a lively smile and cocked a bushy eyebrow playfully, adding the same emphasis, “Why it is him, in the flesh no less!” He half bowed, wine glass held out by his side as not to spill. The wine was not cheap, he should know. The host got their stock from him. They might be related but a business was a business after all.


“It tis’ a pleasure to meet you, my good sir. Mr. Alvina, you say? Forgive me if I do not recognize you in return.” He said it almost apologetically, portraying his face as though slightly pained. Quincy felt himself warming up to ‘the game’ as he called it, remembering how much he enjoyed these back and forth formal exchanges when they weren’t with insufferable windbags.


The nobleman turned towards the bartender and snapped his fingers impatiently. “Bring Mr. Alvina a wine glass. Quickly now.” As the empty glass was set beside him, Quincy picked up the bottle gingerly and looked at the label with genuine admiration.


“Ahh yes, Acripae. A bit bitter perhaps, for those unaccustomed to the stronger wines.” He smirked, his mask slipping a little but managed to bring it back. “But it does the job, quite nicely I must say.” He poured Qaerris a glass, an unspoken invitation to stay. Picking up his own he finally got around to responding to the mention of his cousin, tilting his head slightly, hair bouncing and stared at the man in front of him, a mischievous gleam in his eye.


“Friends with Lady Evelyn you say. She’s a fire cracker, that one. Oh, I imagine all she has to say about me is fine indeed. Rumors have it that I’m a grand leader, charming and heroic as they come. Or so they say.” He grinned openly at Qaerris, not trying to it hide this time. He was fully aware of what people thought of him and it didn’t bother him in the least. It hadn't stopped him from being wealthier than a majority of them, much to their dismay.


Glancing around the room, he spotted the fiery red hair that marked his cousin who was chatting politely with her neighbor.


“Love wine? One could say that. The only difference being, I love good wine.” He almost chuckled at the underlying implication that his cousin only liked bad wine, thus insulting her business. The two had never gotten along. She was more arrogant than he, by his standards. Probably because she felt like she had more to prove and in doing so lashed out at those she felt threatened by. Being so far removed from any particular importance must be a hardship.


Quincy leaned one elbow against the counter top and eyed Qaerris. “But enough about me. I would hear of the great Alvina that graces my cousin’s presence enough to be taken to an Andaris gala as her plus one. Where did you two meet, pray chance?”
Last edited by Quincy Andaris on Mon Apr 18, 2016 5:23 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 850
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As the Mortalborn listened to the Andaris speak, he could not help the grin that materialized upon his features. Quincy Andaris, for whatever supposed faults that he had, was an amusing individual. He spoke with a rapid cadence, each word following the next in seeming defiance of the logic of thought. He spoke faster than the Mortalborn could think, for that matter. Listening to the mortal speak, he found the subject matter bounce from a timely greeting to the content of Ms. Evelyn Andaris' character in a matter of moments. Clearly, whatever grudge that Evelyn felt towards her cousin was neither missed nor absorbed. For the animosity arose in both directions. To Qaerris, who was neither a mediator nor a family friend, the entire smell of distaste in the air was far too delicious to attempt to do anything about. Rather, he'd play both sides to his apparent advantage, and in this moment, it was his due time to drink a glass of wine.

Carefully, Qaerris let two fingers slide onto either side of the thin stem of the wine glass, raising the vintage, what he had called 'Acripae', to his lips. Quincy was absolutely right. The vintage was a bitter one, stronger and heavier than the Mortalborn was accustomed to, though the slight hiss that Qaerris had employed in order to take a proper taste of the wine had dulled the full force of the wine's kick. Swallowing the first sip, he allowed himself to enjoy a second as Quincy continued to reveal his heart to Qaerris, letting a sarcastic remark that insinuated that his lady's palate was unrefined escape the Andaris' lips.

It's quite beautiful, how the sarcasm simply drapes about his words, worn like a dress and paraded about.

Of course it was Qaerris' prerogative to disrobe anything that called to him, and dissecting the meaning out of words was by no means an exception to this. Once Qaerris was appointed to answer another question, he let a third sip of wine flow down his throat as he began,

"What a fascinating vintage, Quincy. But, let's not get distracted, for my meeting with Lady Evelyn is a rousing tale, worthy of songs of its own. Our dear Lady so mourned her husband, you see. She wept for him in her privacy, yet in his absence began to throw herself into her work. As you know, throwing oneself into work leads to a void, an emptiness that nothing can fill.

And thus, the lovely widow found herself going through motions in her business. Then, I come in. I ask Ms. Evelyn is she needed help about her winery, for the laborious work of a vintner is not a task suited to a lone force. She enlisted my aid in setting up the space in her estate, and as she did, a romance blossomed, you see. One could call it love at first sight, even. We've been almost inseparable ever since, you know. Though, it wouldn't do for her to admit such a thing, and Lord Quincy, I would ever appreciate your discretion in regards to this.
"

Twisted truths, yet most of the story did resonate with fact. Lady Evelyn had been at the end of her rope when she had found the Mortalborn. He'd begun to help her loosen up, to return the smile to the woman's face. And now, she even saw it fit to return to the festivities of her family. Perhaps, Qaerris should charge her extra simply for the convenience of not needing post-mortem therapy. It seemed that he did that job well enough for her. Stifling a chuckle and a smirk to not go with it, he lifted his gaze to meet Quincy's once more,

"Though, admittedly, her wine is swill when compared to this. Poor girl."
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Quincy Andaris
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Quincy could feel the alcohol starting to reach his head, the few glasses of wine he had “tasted” while dressing for the event pushing past his threshold as he drank his current glass. Everyone knew the cure for a hangover was more alcohol. It hadn’t failed him thus far. The headache was gone, after all.


The Andaris listened with interest as Qaerris explained his relationship with Evelyn to him. But his thoughts kept drifting.


I guess Evelyn is pretty enough, but this man could have anyone, I’m sure that body is rockin’ under his attire.


His attention now drawn to the attire of his companion, he eyed him up and down critically.


Not the worst taste in clothes. Elegant, yet complimentary. Though with a body like that anything is complimentary. He could wear a sack cloth bag and convince everyone it was the latest style and look good doing it.


Quincy both appreciated his garb but also felt a twinge of jealousy. He really needed to up his anty. His light blue chaffon shirt and black pants were nice enough, he paid enough for them but there were so many other fabrics more expensive that he could acquire. Soon. He shook his head slightly, clearing his thoughts and returning to the present.


"As you know, throwing oneself into work leads to a void, an emptiness that nothing can fill."


He snorted. “You know what should be thrown in that void, her swill she calls wine. Doesn’t she sell it to,” he made a face, looking incredulous, “commoners? What peasant needs wine?”


Chuckling at his own wit and all but abandoning his attempts to be the gentleman and discretion, Quincy took another sip of his wine, smirking to himself. Oh, the scandal. No doubt Evelyn would hear of his insulting remarks and make him regret it later. But he couldn’t help it. Her own attempts to branch out and be successful were amusing. Especially since she had to do most of the work herself. Like a poor person.


She hated the fact that he did the same work as her, yet he was much more successful. Granted, he didn’t have to do any of the hard work, setting up the business and making it thrive. He just coasted on someone else’s accomplishment. But that’s what intelligent people did, profit off the success of others. Work smarter, not harder. Anything else was just silly.


“If she had learned anything from being an Andaris, she’d have realized ‘laborious work’is what servants are for. Besides, a business and a home in the same place??" He tsked, shaking his head. "That's unbecoming. But success isn’t for everyone, I suppose.”


Quincy realized his comments may have insulted the man and he hastily added, “But I’m sure you’ll will help her…succeed.” His tone shifted, revealing his doubt in his own words. Ah well, at least he tried. Abandoning the rules of his profession, much to the horror of his mentor he imagined, Quincy finished off his glass in a gulp.


“But you have nothing to worry from me, my friend. Your lover’s secrets are safe with me.” He grinned. Secrets were fun. Just a fancy word for ammunition.


The Andaris was about to make another comment when a flash of red hair caught his attention. Lady Evelyn seemed to have finished up her conversation with the noblemen at her table and was making her way over to the two of them.


His eyes lit up.


Oooooh , this should be fun.

He watched as she came over, eyes boring into his, her own speaking volumes. Quincy set his empty glass down and stepped forward to greet her.

"Is that the Lady Evelyn, the beauty of Andaris, that my eyes have the honor of beholding?? My my, it has been too long for my weary heart!" He leaned forward and gave a peck on each cheek before returning to his place. He gestured towards Qaerris nonchalantly, watching her closely from behind his mask of politeness he slid over his demeanor. "I just had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Alvina, he's such a delight. He has so many wonderful things to say about you."
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While Quincy had begun to succumb to the pleasures of his wine, Qaerris still felt perfectly alert. He'd drained the first glass of wine after several minutes, and found that the glass had been refilled without him specifically requesting for it to happen. Not that the Mortalborn would complain. Acripae, as Quincy had called it, suited his palate incredibly well. It was a heavier, darker wine than the harlot was used to, but the 'swill' that he had known of before paled in comparison. Of course, wine couldn't begin to compare to the better, stronger liquors that Qaerris so enjoyed, but it didn't need to. Wine was, after all, classy.

"The vermin need something to connect themselves to those such as yourself. Even if it is nothing but a lie."

Tipping his head back, Qaerris let half of the glass' contents fall down his throat, a satisfied sigh parting his lips as he listened to the Andaris speak. It was true, of course. As much as the man mocked Evelyn, her wine was simply poorer than the one he was drinking. After all, it was a wine that she sold to the commonwealth, making her business by selling to innkeepers and tavern owners. The poor needed the wine in order to have a chance to feel more refined. Of course, wearing a disguise did not make one classy. Qaerris knew that from experience.

A guise is simply that, a masque one must wear in order to make themselves seem different from their true self. Quentin Alvina is perhaps my favourite one yet, though. Being Evelyn's harlot... there are worse fates.

A smirk cast upon the Mortalborn's features as he looked up from his empty glass, setting it again on the bar, hoping for it to be filled, though it would be rude to interrupt the Andaris as he got into his stride. He was wrong, of course. Evelyn had a servant to assist her in her business, but it was of little consequence. Qaerris wasn't of the mind to defend the woman's business or her pursuits at independence.

"Oh, I'm sure I won't. I'm just a pretty face, my friend."

When Evelyn made her way over to the Mortalborn and her cousin, Qaerris couldn't help the sheepish grin that cast upon his features. She looked between the two of them, a mixture of emotions upon her expression that the Mortalborn couldn't quite place. Howeve,r when she spoke, she turned to Quincy, first,

"Oh, if it isn't my dear Quincy! The heart and soul of our family, to be sure. You've met Quentin I see. Yes, he's very pleasant, always has the best things to say about people."

A smirk materialized upon the Mortalborn's lips as he stepped towards the woman, pressing a kiss to her cheek and turning to face Quincy from her side. An arm looped about the woman's waist, a rather intimate gesture, particularly in a party setting, but it was to his taste. Evelyn leaned towards the gesture for but a moment before pulling away, letting a girlish giggle escape her lips before she continued on,

"Oh, it has been too long, Quincy. We simply must meet together soon for tea. Perhaps I'll have my servant stop by your estate to arrange a time. However, for today, I simply must be going back. I have a meeting to attend with a few of our guests. You know how it is, I'm sure.[/color]"

With that, Evelyn left, leaving Quincy and Qaerris utterly unattended.

That was... brief. Well, then. This should be fun. If she's not watching, I can go nuts.

"I think we have business of our own! The end of a bottle or two seems to be waiting."
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Quincy watched with great enjoyment as his cousin’s gaze flickered between the two of them, an array of emotions on her face. He couldn’t read her expression but it wasn’t smug so he counted that as a victory.


Quincy: 1 Evelyn: 0, can’t beat the king, malady.


She greeted him in the same manner he had, kind words and a pleasant expression, her flowery words weaving underlining messages if one cared to read into them. He wasn’t quite sure he she caught his sarcasm and hidden prods, if she did, she held it quite well. He almost felt a little disappointed she hadn’t reacted.

The Andaris watched with fascination as Qaerris leaned in for a kiss, his hand slipping around her waist. Alvina hadn’t been kidding, love was in the air. The noble filed that tidbit away for later. He had no intentions of exploiting his new friend, but if he could get an upper hand on his cousin in the future…


He was distracted from his thoughts as Evelyn invited him to tea and he resisted the urge to blanch. Instead, he smiled winningly at her.


“I would be absolutely delighted to attend, thank you for such a thoughtful invitation. Though I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your servant’s time. Time is money as I’m sure you understand quite well. I know how you need him to run your…business.”


He paused, letting the word hang in the air, maintaining a straight face. He smirked as she left and turned back towards his glass but finding it empty, frowned.


“Bartender. What is this? Empty? You are familiar how beverages work, no?”


He shook his head annoyed, feeling the alcohol really kicking in now, the room spinning slightly as he moved. He looked at Qaerris as the man spoke, who took the very words out of his mouth.


‘I think we have business of our own! The end of a bottle or two seems to be waiting.’


Quincy grinned and turned towards the bartender.


“You’re forgiven. Quickly now! We need another bottle!”


The formally dressed man hesitated slightly, seeing the Andaris growing slightly more erratic than when he had arrived but nonetheless obeyed. He slipped a lesser quality wine to the two of them before moving off to help another guest. The nobleman snatched up the half empty bottle of Acripae and looked around distastefully at the people who milled about stiffly.


“What do you say we leave this incredibly dull party and see where the evening takes us, my friend? The night is young, the wine is smooth, why should be trap ourselves here, when all of Rynmere is ours! What do you say? Are you with me??”


Quincy grew more and more excited as he spoke. The thought of going on an adventure seemed to appeal to him in that moment. And to do it with a complete stranger made it even more compelling.


There was no way anything could possibly go wrong.
word count: 514
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Qaerris
Approved Character
Posts: 82
Joined: Wed Mar 30, 2016 4:52 am
Race: Naerikk
Profession: Harlot
Renown: 0
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Wealth Tier: Tier 1

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A Most Joyous Affair

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This is fantastic, Qaerris thought to himself as he listened to the Andaris scion speak. Already growing more and more drunk, the Mortalborn wondered to himself whether his words were spoken out of intoxication, or if the Andaris was truly committed to spending an evening on the streets of Rynmere. In the end, Qaerris came to a conclusion about his new friend.

He was a monster.

Quincy Andaris was not a monster that crept from under the bed, nor was he one who rose from the darkness to steal one's children. No, he was a monster born from alcohol, a reveling, wild creature that sought no approval from the world, dreaming endlessly of his own satisfaction. Satisfaction that came from the end of a bottle and the mad outings that the bravado of intoxication encouraged.

Just the kind of monster that I like to see.

Oh, how Qaerris approved of his new friend, seeing, for the first time in an age, a man who could follow his lead and perhaps even take that lead from him. Clearly, Quincy Andaris was a natural leader, one who demanded the following of others. It was a sense of entitlement, more than anything else, but nonetheless, it was something that demanded obedience.

A grin cast upon the Mortalborn's lips as he raised his empty glass, filling it with half of what was left of the bottle and draining it just as quickly. The night was going to be theirs, and all of Rynmere could marvel at the friendship that had just been made. Evelyn sifted away from Qaerris' thoughts the further away she got, the harlot's gaze glazing over with the fervor of intoxication as little by little, he felt his sense of self-control dwindle away, falling to the beast of liquor as Qaerris came to the conclusion that he too was a monster.

Why wouldn't I be? We get to have all of the fun.

Honestly, Quincy, m'boy," A slight slur was beginning to flow within the Mortalborn's words, a hand extended to grasp the Andaris' shoulder as he leaned in to continue on,

"I don't even know why we're still 'ere. The streets of Andaris! The truest of parties. The best adventure one could ever know!"

From therein, Qaerris was gone, his sharp mind and class withdrawn in favour of the solace he sought so desperately. What need was there to concern himself with the class of upper class life when even the nobility disregarded it in favour of their gullet and their pleasures. From herein, Qaerris would show Quincy the nuances of lower class festivity. Starting by, of course, getting the both of them a woman for the evening. After that, the party could go on.

"Lets'em... Go get ourselves a boat! A boat is what we need." Qaerris spoke the words with utter certainty, knowing that it was the best idea one could ever come up with. After all, festivities with a new friend, no longer a stranger, were always better on a boat.

I'm a genius.

There was no way anything could possibly go wrong.
word count: 534
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Griffin
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Posts: 158
Joined: Fri May 06, 2016 9:30 am
Race: Mer
Renown: 0
Wealth Tier: Tier 1

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A Most Joyous Affair

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[columns=2]
Qaerris

Skills:
Appraisal: 1
Rhetoric: 2
Socialisation: 2
Story Telling: 1
Etiquette: 1

Basic Knowledge:
Andaris Family: Wealthy
Quincy Andaris: Good wine by the bottle
Quincy Andaris: Reveller

Specialised Knowledge:
Quincy Andaris: Sarcastic
Quincy Andaris: Snob
Quincy Andaris: A potential friend
Acripae: Bitter wine, an acquired taste.

Quincy

Skills:
Appraisal: 1
Socialisation: 2
Rhetoric: 3
Intimidation: 1
Observation: 1

Basic Knowledge:
Quentin Alvina: Attractive
Quentin Alvina: Well-dressed
Elise Andaris: Knows you too well

Specialised Knowledge:
Quentin Alvina: A very good friend of Cousin Evelyn
Quentin Alvina: In love with Evelyn?
Quentin Alvina: Willing to jump on the party wagon
Acripae: Bitter wine, an acquired taste.[/columns]
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