milliways_bar | Twelfth Night Party, Pontmercy style!

You -- yes, you, whoever you are -- got an invitation to the party. All of Milliways is welcome!

If you choose to come, you'll find Bar directing you to a big round tent that went up this afternoon on the lawn outside the bar. Marius and Cosette and various friends spent a lot of time this morning ferrying decorations in, and the waitrats spent a lot of time in the afternoon ferrying food in, but the doors won't officially open until close to sunset.

But this isn't a cheap white plastic tent, oh no. It's warm and domed and made of thick fabric, something like a very large yurt. A bit of magic keeps out the drafts, making everything extra cozy.

There's a fire in the middle of the floor, with a low screen encircling it but also magic meaning that this fire puts of warmth but will not actually burn anything, even if you step right into it. The floor is wood -- great for dancing, if you feel like it! There's a piano over against the wall for anyone who wants to make some music.

Everywhere there are garlands of European evergreen branches and herbs, studded with bright dried fruit and sparkling ornaments. (Mistletoe might very well be among them, though the Pontmercies haven't thought to supply that as an intentional party game.) There are candles and lanterns everywhere, and a big chandelier. There are no electric lights at all -- it's all fire -- but a good number of them are magical, so that nothing's going to get set on fire or covered with smoke. The general intended impression is of genteel, welcoming festivity, in a very French and very early 19th century European way.

There are food and drinks galore. Come in and enjoy the party!

[OOC: Party-style post! Subthreads for various categories and activities, etc. Open from now until whenever!

Edit: As of Joly's arrival, Cosette now has a mini-polaroid camera. Fear, Milliways. Feel free to assume that she's popped up to take a candid picture of your character(s) at any point, as long as they're not doing or wearing anything scandalous! She will happily give the resulting picture to your character if they want; it probably won't be a very good picture, in terms of composition or focus, but it will be cheerfully enthusiastic.]

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He leans in, watching the picture slowly appear, greatly fascinated.

"That is most clever," he says.

"Isn't it wonderful? M. Joly has promised to explain how it works, but right now I don't understand at all. There are chemicals on the paper somehow, that's all I know. But it's marvelous. Would you like to try?"

"On the paper? That is clever," he says before taking the offered camera with a smile.

"If you entrust me with the task, surely."

He notices the weight and the texture. Plastic. As most other modern items.

He also notices the lack of enchantment, at least of a kind discernible to him.

He has up the camera, looks through it - and lowers it again, just slightly, saying, "Perhaps, if you stood in front of the table?"

Composition. It's part of Elven dna to seek out pleasing tableaus.

"Oh -- certainly -- just here?"

Cosette seeks out pleasing tableaus with her interior decoration, but she hasn't thought to do it with people, let alone herself. But she's happy to take direction, and to stand where he suggests.

And if she doesn't really have the knack of smiling for the camera down pat yet, she's honestly delighted by everything tonight, and that will cover a lot.

"Yes," he says.
"Just so."

And with steady hands he takes a photo of Colette, aglow with the success of a party hostessed well.

Then he moves around to stand beside her, as the photo develops.

"I love to watch it appear," Cosette confides, as the shapes slowly fade into being. "I don't understand at all how it does, but it's a marvel. --Oh, but it's lovely! You're so much better at this than I am!"

It's a reflexive social compliment, but if she doesn't mean the self-deprecation part of it, she does mean the compliment. The picture delights her, and she beams up at Elrond accordingly.

"Would you like it, my lord, or shall I take it? Or the one of you, you shall have whichever you like."

If he wants the one of himself she'll give it gladly, but she will ask to take another one before he goes off to join the party. His outfit is just so pretty.

He accepts the compliment in the spirit it is given, but says, "No, they are both for you to keep. As mementoes."

Perhaps, that will be what help Men overcome their short years. Pictures developed in an instant so that things are truly remembered?
One may hope.

He adds,"I am still going through my belongings in preparation for my journey. I should not add more, not even the small and delightful. "

"Well then, I shall treasure them."

And she will. She's going to treasure all these photos. Miraculous future pictures of her very first real party!

"But what is your journey? Are you moving house?" Do grand Elven lords move house? It sounds as if they must. "I hope it's exciting! I hope you're going somewhere wonderful."

"The time of the Elves is coming to an end," he tells her. "It is time for us to say farewell to the lands and places we know that we may travel West. Back to the Undying Lands."

A small pause.

"My wife awaits me there."

There is a world, nay a Universe of emotions in his voice.

Cosette stares at him.

Perhaps it's only fancy names for something that's more mundane really, and she's just not understanding properly. But that sounds very grand, and terribly sad, and almost incomprehensibly beyond her experience.

But -- but being reunited with his wife, there. That much, she can grasp; that, she knows what to do with.

"Why... Why, then, I'm very glad you will be reunited! It's awful that you've been apart so long, I praise God that you can be together. I confess it, my lord, I don't understand the rest. It all sounds so sad. So sad and so grand, and I'm only little Cosette. But I hope you're well, and that you'll travel in safety, and I'm very glad you'll be together with your wife."

That's not -- that's not in heaven, is it? She doesn't think so, but it's a little hard to tell, especially with so many emotions like a rushing river below the grave skim of his words.

He looks at her - and then he smiles. And with that smile, the sun reachrs through the greyness of everything sad and grand he just said, giving way to light and twinkling reflections.
So to speak.

"You understand what matters," he tells her. "For we have been apart for centuries and every day now brings me closer to her."

And further away from his children and his beloved home. But that is not a topic fit for a party.

Cosette relaxes, without quite realizing it. He doesn't seem so sad now; he's cheered up, that's good.

(Cosette's father is a man of heavy sorrows and mournful silences. Cosette learned early that she couldn't mend them and she couldn't learn what was behind them, but she could cheer him and distract him, and that's her immediate and ingrained response to someone else's sadness. If she can cheer them up, it's all right, and she's helped as much as she could.)

"Centuries! Oh, it sounds horrible. I can't even imagine. I am glad you'll be together, my lord. I wish you all the very greatest happiness together, I do."

"Thank you," and that too is heartfelt.
Elves may live long lives but even to the Firstborn his time apart from Celebrian has been long.

"And that kind you again for inviting me," he adds with a bow for even a lord will bow to the lady of the house.

And that is heartfelt as well.

"It was our pleasure, truly," she assures him, heartfelt right back. Her earnest sincerity is infinitely younger, but it's a rush of real feeling all the same.

"You've been so kind and wonderful always, you're a very dear friend, my lord! And I think any party would be honored to have such a grand guest. I'm so glad you came, I do hope you enjoy yourself. And I look forward very much to hearing you play your harp!"

Twelfth Night Party, Pontmercy style!

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