[A celebration is taking place in an important noble's not-so-humble abode. It's a lavish party with all the stops pulled out; luxurious decorations, equally luxurious food and drink, and of course, the important company all around, dressed in all their finery. There are servers at the beck and call of the guests and although they do not outshine the party-goers, their uniforms are no less sharp, giving the air of professionalism as they represented the host's wealth. There is one particular server, a tall man who seems to have gained some attention from some female guests who giggle as he offers them another flute of chilled cider with a flourish and a smile. When he's done, he turns around and his pleasant smile is replaced by a thin line of grim contemplation. The dark-haired and dark-eyed man is murmuring to himself as he sidles off to a relatively empty hallway after setting down the silver tray and adjusting his gloves around his hands.]
... England.
[That's what this location is supposed to be, or at least it's some odd version of it from what Dominique Vargas could parse. He has been a long-time visitor of a certain witch's multi-nexus cafe that the idea of alternate worlds and timelines are not out of place. But being in one and having to figure out a way home is an entirely different matter and it's own weird story to be told another day. When Dom realized the situation he was in, he immediately got to work to integrate himself and be noticed as little as possible. A white lie there, a partial truth there, and a sprinkle of bribery to an indolent male laborer who was all too happy to give up his job as a server to pompous nobles when Dom offered to take his place after compensating him with a good amount of money. If one was to gather intel about something as broad and vast as the state and culture of the country and society as a whole, where better than around those at the top?
Dom snaps out of his reverie when a fellow server calls him out to help pass out some appetizers. Back to work then. He runs his hand through his hair and straightens his back to take over his duties.
Gracefully, he maneuvers his way through the flock of people, avoiding skirts and brushing past shoulders. He's doing two jobs at once; serving food and listening in on voices emitted through lips and through the mind.]
"I heard the baron is trying to invest in more Cavorite machinery...!"
"There are a lot of guards stationed here, I wonder why?"
"Spies..."
"Are there spies?"
"The princess..."
"There's a deal to be made and..."
"Oh, I'm tired. I want more wine."
"I can't believe I have to frolick with commoners!"
"There are DEFINITELY spies, haven't you heard of the other incidents and...??"
[It's a lively party. Mundanity mixed with intrigue in an alternate world where technology advanced in an entirely different trajectory. Dominique has to admit, if he weren't worried about himself, he'd simply love to sit down with a journal to write down his thoughts and observations.
A young woman is in his way, but Dominique simply raises his arm that holds the tray to dodge her.]
[ This is old hat to Dorothy by now, and she thinks at some point, much later, she'll look back on this and laugh bitterly into her drink. A simple girl turned jaded runaway turned spy whelp turned seductress. At least, that's her role to play tonight, and Dorothy dances to the tune of beguiling allure easily, as though she'd been born to do little or nothing else.
That's far from the truth, of course, but it suits her purpose well enough tonight.
It isn't as though she hasn't taken notice of the tall, stately-looking server. Many of the young noblewomen had already flocked towards him, instead of fawning over the more portly and older baron-- which was fine. Dorothy didn't need an audience.
But who knew, that the very person who had been such an excellent distraction earlier, was going to bump into her now. Dorothy responds in kind, a quick, subtle sidestep in the off-chance that he hadn't been prepared to evade her.
Tonight, she's still the young, maidenly student of an academy for the wealthy and demure. She answers as such. ]
[He wonders if he should have faked a British accent at that point. But he's gotten this far without it so he'll keep going with the flow.]
Well, then. I can only offer a sincere apology with these.
[Dom idly lowers the tray so that it's level with the admittedly pretty (but not a young academy student) woman, offering the tiny and delicate bite-sized pastries to her.
Apparently, he was being a big help. She must have a big job to do during the party.]
[ Well. He's going to be swarmed any moment by a vast majority of single (and not) young ladies, judging by the covetous stares she's already picking up from a quick glance in the general vicinity. Might as well.
So Dorothy simple plucks one of the pastries up, executing a perfect curtsy before she takes a bite. It's tiny, so at least it won't be long before she finishes it. ]
Thank you. I shouldn't take much more of your time, however.
[Ladies, please... To his credit, he doesn't give a hint of being perturbed or aware of his minor popularity. He shifts, turning to go on the opposite end of the room before pausing as if he's remembered something.]
[His eyes are too sharp, his demeanor too calm. His voice lowers so that no one else in the vicinity can hear his words, except for Dorothy.]
... It is for you, right?
You might want to find a way to clear the room. Some people wanna party hard, but not in a good way.
[The words he picked up on, originating from a gentlemen duo who have snuck out of the main floor and to another room to snatch away some important items or documents or other.
"A distraction."
"In 15 minutes..."
"Smoke bomb..."
"It's our escape route too."
"It'll root out those spies too and..."
The tall man hums before he leaves Dorothy with a cryptic statement.]
15 minutes. Better start looking.
[Dominique clucks his tongue and moves towards the group of ladies who are vying for his attention.]
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Feel the city breakin' and everybody shakin'
... England.
[That's what this location is supposed to be, or at least it's some odd version of it from what Dominique Vargas could parse. He has been a long-time visitor of a certain witch's multi-nexus cafe that the idea of alternate worlds and timelines are not out of place. But being in one and having to figure out a way home is an entirely different matter and it's own weird story to be told another day. When Dom realized the situation he was in, he immediately got to work to integrate himself and be noticed as little as possible. A white lie there, a partial truth there, and a sprinkle of bribery to an indolent male laborer who was all too happy to give up his job as a server to pompous nobles when Dom offered to take his place after compensating him with a good amount of money. If one was to gather intel about something as broad and vast as the state and culture of the country and society as a whole, where better than around those at the top?
Dom snaps out of his reverie when a fellow server calls him out to help pass out some appetizers. Back to work then. He runs his hand through his hair and straightens his back to take over his duties.
Gracefully, he maneuvers his way through the flock of people, avoiding skirts and brushing past shoulders. He's doing two jobs at once; serving food and listening in on voices emitted through lips and through the mind.]
"I heard the baron is trying to invest in more Cavorite machinery...!"
"There are a lot of guards stationed here, I wonder why?"
"Spies..."
"Are there spies?"
"The princess..."
"There's a deal to be made and..."
"Oh, I'm tired. I want more wine."
"I can't believe I have to frolick with commoners!"
"There are DEFINITELY spies, haven't you heard of the other incidents and...??"
[It's a lively party. Mundanity mixed with intrigue in an alternate world where technology advanced in an entirely different trajectory. Dominique has to admit, if he weren't worried about himself, he'd simply love to sit down with a journal to write down his thoughts and observations.
A young woman is in his way, but Dominique simply raises his arm that holds the tray to dodge her.]
Comin' through. Pardon my rudeness my lady.
no subject
That's far from the truth, of course, but it suits her purpose well enough tonight.
It isn't as though she hasn't taken notice of the tall, stately-looking server. Many of the young noblewomen had already flocked towards him, instead of fawning over the more portly and older baron-- which was fine. Dorothy didn't need an audience.
But who knew, that the very person who had been such an excellent distraction earlier, was going to bump into her now. Dorothy responds in kind, a quick, subtle sidestep in the off-chance that he hadn't been prepared to evade her.
Tonight, she's still the young, maidenly student of an academy for the wealthy and demure. She answers as such. ]
The rudeness was on my part. Do excuse me.
no subject
Well, then. I can only offer a sincere apology with these.
[Dom idly lowers the tray so that it's level with the admittedly pretty (but not a young academy student) woman, offering the tiny and delicate bite-sized pastries to her.
Apparently, he was being a big help. She must have a big job to do during the party.]
One for the road?
no subject
So Dorothy simple plucks one of the pastries up, executing a perfect curtsy before she takes a bite. It's tiny, so at least it won't be long before she finishes it. ]
Thank you. I shouldn't take much more of your time, however.
[ Yep, they're definitely starting to close in. ]
1/2
[Ladies, please... To his credit, he doesn't give a hint of being perturbed or aware of his minor popularity. He shifts, turning to go on the opposite end of the room before pausing as if he's remembered something.]
Although...
no subject
... It is for you, right?
You might want to find a way to clear the room. Some people wanna party hard, but not in a good way.
[The words he picked up on, originating from a gentlemen duo who have snuck out of the main floor and to another room to snatch away some important items or documents or other.
"A distraction."
"In 15 minutes..."
"Smoke bomb..."
"It's our escape route too."
"It'll root out those spies too and..."
The tall man hums before he leaves Dorothy with a cryptic statement.]
15 minutes. Better start looking.
[Dominique clucks his tongue and moves towards the group of ladies who are vying for his attention.]