tea party } watch out for those rabbit holes

[graveflowers]

Happy Happy Birthday, Baby- Elvis Presley

WHO || Violet and OPEN
WHAT || Tea party out in the garden
WHERE || Knights HQ, back garden
WHEN || Sunday, May 26th around 3pm and onward.
HOW || Actionspam, get yo' threadjacking on babes.

When Violet throws a party, she is, surprisingly, classy about it. It's a garden party, with tables out in the garden and the flowers all in bloom. There is tea and mimosas on the tables and little cakes and vegetarian sandwiches. Music is playing on her phone -- the most eclectic mix of modern and retro, and a truly astounding amount of Elvis. Don't judge, she doesn't know why she likes him so much. Off to one side there is an area of shade, a construction of twigs and branches making quite a fine shelter, flowering vines interwoven between the branches to cover up any holes.

She sends invitations the day of, though send might not be the word for it. More like... she duct tapes the invitations to every door she sees before knocking and scampering off to the next door. Does she know you? Maybe not. Does she care? Definitely not. You get an invitation, you get an invitation, everyone gets a humpback whale!

It's just an everyday party in the garden, or so the invitation claims. Except it's her birthday, or the one she and Charming chose for her, and she wants to celebrate turning twenty six! She just doesn't want to be the center of attention.

Come one, come all, mix, mingle, nibble. Violet will be around, coaxing flowers into bloom and trying to remember where she put her shoes when she came out here... Whatever. Barefoot it is.

Comments

[technophobic]

Some of us take our duties and training as Knights seriously.

[isisagent]

Well, I'm glad you take it seriously enough for the three of us... I think you're safe though - the palette around here seems pretty monochromatic, from what I've seen.

[graveflowers]

[popcorn.gif]

Want a drink, Lan? I can find you an... ale?

[technophobic]

Now we're getting somewhere. Where are the ale wenches?

[graveflowers]

This isn't a ren faire, sweetheart. They're called women and you have hands to get it yourself, just saying, I am being nice. Don't kill him.

[And she is going to disappear to the kitchen to find that friggin' ale, okay. She'll be back.]

[isisagent]

Ale Wenches!?

Now you're speaking my language, old man!

[technophobic]

Sir Lanston Charles Montgomery Wingates Wellington. Not 'old man' or whatever other foolish titles you see fit to bestow.

[isisagent]

That name come with a commemorative plaque?... Or... is the length just compensating for something?

[technophobic]

A name tells a lot about a man. What's yours supposed to be?

[isisagent]

Sterling Malory Archer. Codename: Duchess.

[technophobic]

Duchess? [ a deep scoffing laugh ] Did that name come with a lovely ruffled frock, as well?

[isisagent]

hah! A what? "ruffled frock?!"

Hey, the 12th century called - they want their shitty insults and iron-clad fashion sense back.

hahaha

[technophobic]

I'm going to take that as a yes, then.

[isisagent]

Take it however you want old man, you're not even going to remember me when the Dementia kicks in. Heh.

[Archer sips at his Mimosa]

[technophobic]

My mind is as strong as it ever was, and that's not going to change anytime before I die.

[isisagent]

I kind of like you old timer.

Very slightly.

[technophobic]

So you have some taste, then. I'd like you better if you got that ale wench to hurry up.