#i love to talk shit. swatch can be a little petty too

[mspaintlover]

let us be little haters together (talking shit about people we dont like)

[scurvgirl]

One falling asleep with rhe others head in their lap for... Beauty and Marassal in the Fen'Sulahn AU? Because they're besties.

Organizing parties for the illustrious leaders for theirglittering society is always complicated when Sylaise enters the picture.Normally, all Marassal and Beauty and the other district managers and variouspeople in charge of such things have to worry about is pleasing their ladyFen’Sulahn or perhaps one of her brothers. Dirthamen isn’t typically too picky,as long as everything appears to be in the right place and he’s allowed to…dowhatever it is he does, then things proceed well. Falon’din is significantlymore complicated, but he too can be understood in a certain way. He likessubservience, which…while isn’t really the forte of Fen’Sulahn’s people, it canbe managed for her brother under a temporary guise. The sacrifices are alwaysthe worst part of the night and if they’re lucky, the Friend of the Deaddoesn’t do too many horrendous things.

Oh what a blasphemous thought. Marassal swears he is plaguedby them, but really he secretly revels in them. No one need know as long as hekeeps his mouth shut, which he is admittedly rubbish at, BUT. The point, whatwas his point? Oh right, Sylaise – the woman complicates things. It’s herfollowers mostly, they have it in their heads that they are the most beautifulout of all the People. Falon’din’s dual insistence at his own beauty andcomplete need to be reaffirmed of his beauty is taxing, but the absolutesnobbery of Sylaise’s people – ugh.It’s dreadful.

What’s even worse is that there is this even supposedrivalry between the factions because Fen’Sulahn has a few rather incrediblystunning individuals. Namely Beauty, Melarue, Uthvir, and of course Marassalhimself. It was a coup getting Melarue, truly, but that isn’t to say Sylaiseisn’t without her share of beauties. Serahlin, Tasallir, Venavismi, evenMelarue’s own son Aelynthi – plenty of beauties.

Yet with all that beauty, they are still jealous of thebeauty Fen’Sulahn’s people possess. Marassal suspects it is because the beautythey possess doesn’t make any sort of organizational sense. They are notcoordinated, they do not overly shift their features much (unless they want to,Marassal is known to occasionally change his features when the mood suits him),and Fen’Sulahn is much more lax about overall aesthetics as compared to hersister. And yet beauty persists, mostly in the form of somehow aestheticallypleasing mismatched individuals.

These soirees are one of the few reasons Fen’Sulahn willoccasionally call for cohesion in a look among her followers. But only the onesin attendance as to not offend the terribly melodramatic company. It’s alsoprotective, in a way, from Sylaise’s people. The followers of Fen’Sulahn haveearned their reputation as the empire’s healers, and while most of them are infact not healers, it hasn’t stoppedthe vicious tongues of the empire’s second snarkiest batch of assholes fromsaying shit.

The current party they’re planning for is to be held mainlyin Marassal’s district, which gives him some form of control of how the partyshould look. It takes some listening to the trend tellers from the ends of theempire, but he smiles when he learns of it. The births of hounds, birds, andthe great blooms seen in the gardens has not gone unnoticed in the slightest –life, then, is the theme. As bright and vibrant as the blood running throughthem all – so red. Or rather, a veryspecific shade of red.

Uthvir will be pleased at least, though Marassal can’tpromise the same for Sylaise’s people.

“It is a little cliché, Marassal,” Beauty chides as hereviews fabric choices for Fen’Sulahn’s gown. Marassal shrugs and holds up aswatch to Beauty.

“Perhaps, but it is celebratory. All of the territories haveexperienced such a wonderful spring. You should hear some of the correspondentsfrom Ghilan’nain, the woman is beside herself with joy over all the littlemonster babies her creations are spawning. And what better way to celebratethan to display the incredible proprietary work of Adahlan’s dyers? Reds,golds, oranges, a dash of vibrant yellow – the fire of life, also complementaryof the illustrious Sylaise and the ladies’ father. Pleasant for everyone.”

Beauty sighs, “Except anyone with eyes.”

“Oh you wound me! You look wonderful in the shades.”

“That’s because I look good in everything,” the man sighs,picking out a lighter fabric that will need to be layered to become opaque, butlayers also offers several options for their lady.

“More of Fen’Sulahn’s followers look lovely in this red thanSylaise, and yet the shade is fashionable, it will not insult them.”

Beauty sighs and turns from the fabric, “So we maintain theridiculous upper hand in this superficial rivalry.”

“Precisely! What is the empire if not full of superficialrivalries?” Marassal teases, making Beauty roll his eyes. Marassal is a pettyman, but he knows that Beauty can be the same, particularly when it came tooutshining other people.

The preparations for the party go on for months untilSylaise finally arrives in typical splendid fashion. There is a large, ostentatiousprocession through Marassal’s district, sculpted to fit the theme. Variousresidents peek out of their homes to look at the glittering displays Sylaisehas carted with her all the way from her tower in Arlathan.

Lady Fen’Sulahn is waiting at the end of the district, whereshe will join her sister in their way to the main palace of Adahlan. Marassalhelps guide the procession through the streets, making small talk Sylaise’svarious attendants. By the time they reach the palace, the sun is setting justas planned, casting a beautiful light to all of the decorations. Enchantersweave their magic around the light, capturing it specially designed orbs toperpetuate the effect of a sunset.

Because of the artificially sustained light, the feeling ofnight time is suspended and they all dance away in perpetual sunset, glowingand basking in warm hues of orange, red, and gold.

A few of the attendees harrumph about the colors of theevent but Sylaise seems quite pleased at the display. Large, flame likecrystals containing glowing, decorative insects manufactured by Ghilan’nain areshow stoppers, complimenting the impressive gown Sylaise has managed to moldher body to. Half crystal, half shimmering red fabric, she moves through thenight like a gemstone. Fen’Sulahn is in deep contrast, in red silks andfeathers, looking like a bird rising from flames rather than a gemstone.

It is a bit ironic that the celebration meant to celebratelife and vitality in honor of Sylaise ends up resembling Fen’Sulahn more by theend.

The sunset lighting continues, even as Marassal feelshimself begin to fade. Working on this has been exhausting and unfortunately hehas to keep going, keep things…from not falling apart. One of the orbs needshis attention to maintain the lighting in the east wing of the soiree,currently where the “off duty” attendants are lounging. Sylaise and Fen’Sulahnhad great changes in attendants halfway through the night to make sure theywere all sufficiently attended to, but the first round of attendants still hadto be at the party, which called for this room. Soft music and lighting, withcomfortable seating, and trays of food and drink are set to circulateregularly.

Several of Sylaise’s attendants are seated together,lounging in spectacular form while they recuperate. Marassal thinks thatperhaps one of them is even dozing,while another looks with a most sour expression. It is no matter, the event isheavily guarded and everyone is as safe as can be, all things considered.

The orb’s magic is running low which is…annoying. Marassalcasts and pours a bit of his own magic into the orb to keep it glowing as longas the ladies in the other room want the party to continue. Though judging bythe waning attendants down below, he almost regrets not letting the light goout. They’re exhausted – he’s exhausted,and he has no lucky reprieve.

He heads down from the perch and makes to head back into themain area when Selahnim, one of the newer attendants for Fen’Sulahn, rushes upto him.

“Our lady would like for you to retire for the night,” theysay in a hushed, hurried voice.

“That’s preposterous, this is my party, I’ll exhaust myselfif I want to.”

“She said that you’d probably say that so she said to tellyou that you should take the rest of the night off to be prepared for the restof the festivities for the rest of the week.” Such a quick talker, this one.Small, big eyes, like an insect.

Marassal narrows his eyes but sighs and waves them off, “Verywell, I shall go…not do anything. Lounge in the land of languish.” He turnsfrom them and retreats back into the room. Now he really regrets not lettingthe orb die.

The permission to be off duty allows much of his exhaustionto surface and it’s all he can do to not just curl up in a corner and fallasleep there. Instead, Marassal walks over to a plush sofa and reclines back.

He sighs as his body relaxes into the plush cushions. Hisfeet and legs ache from all the bustling about he’s been doing for…how manyhours now? At least he still looks good enough to earn a few scathing looksfrom Sylaise’s people.

It is not long before Beauty enters the room and seesMarassal.

“Our Lady relieve you as well?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” he answers, taking a seat next toMarassal. Marassal reaches out towards Beauty’s sleeve where a very grumpylooking Gra’Mi is situated. The hound is fairly used to Marassal by now, butstill, he uses caution and lets her sniff at him before settling down againsther elf.  

Marassal sidles closer to Beauty and rests his head on hisshoulder, only hearing minimal growling from The Beast. Beauty pats Marassal’shead.

“You’ve outdone yourself with this, Marassal.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he murmurs, nuzzlingthe soft fur at Beauty’s shoulder.

“Are you wearing that new perfume from Divalon?” He asks.

“Sometimes your ability to sniff these things out disturbsme. But yes, I am.”

“I should make a note to get it, you smell so nice. Also,you look radiant, mink?”

“Chinchilla, ethically gathered and dyed with red clay.” Thatwould explain the softness, which was slowly easing Marassal into the hazyhalf-awake state. His eyes are open but his body lax.

“It’s nice, Dorgara?”

“Who else?”

“Hmm.” Marassal feels his heart slow and his eyes begin todrift closed as he leans more heavily on Beauty.

Marassal wakes to screams.

His eyes snap open and he sits up to see Gra’Mi attached tothe hand of a screaming attendant of Sylaise. Oh dear.

“Gra’Mi, darling, come here,” Marassal urges.

“Gra’Mi!” Beauty says, reaching out unafraid to unlatch thebeast’s jaws from the attendant. She relinquishes the elf reluctantly as Beautytakes her back.

“That hound should be killed for assaulting me!” Theattendant shouts. Marassal closes his eyes. Of all the things to say –

Literally every hound in the area begins to growl.

“No, here’s the thing, Gra’Mi doesn’t attack just anyone.She is a bit…much, but that sort of attack comes from one thing – you weretrying to touch Beauty without his consent,” Marassal says, meeting the man’seyes while Beauty retreats with a still growling Gra’Mi.

“I was trying to wake the both of you! The gathering hasended, I was informing you of such.”

“There was no need to touch, you could have simply used yourvoice, or even a spell, a bell – or rather have done nothing all and allowedour own people to wake us. This is the palace of our lady, we are welcome here always,”Marassal argues while a crowd begins to gather. Another attendant of Sylaise’sapproaches, looking tired and rather put out by the entire thing.

“Tel’aral, cease your lying. Your scheming to sabotageBeauty’s outfit was heard by fifteen other people, several of whom have alreadyinformed our ladies. Forced nudity is in such distaste, I doubt you will beallowed here much longer,” she says while folding her hands into her robe. Sheeyes Beauty and Gra’Mi and then the still bleeding wound on Tel’aral.

“And for the love of the empire, go get that healed, I tireof seeing your worthless blood. Such a pale color compared to the richness ofour surroundings,” she scoffs, gesturing for Tel’aral to leave. She watches himgo and stares at the crowd, dismissing each of them in short order.

“Serahlin, how good it is to see you!” Marassal gushes onceeveryone has left. She arches a brow at him and picks stray strand of fur offher robes.

“My five-year-old is a more accomplished liar than Tel’aral.Your beast will be beloved by a few of us for the rest of the stay, Tel’aral hasearned his bloody hand many times over. Lovely party, Marassal, as always, nowif you will excuse me, I have the day to spend with my husband. Good day,”Serahlin bows her head and leaves.

Marassal stretches and looks over to Beauty, fortunately noless for wear, though he is sporting a rather impressive scowl.

“They have no right,” Marassal says softly.

“No, they don’t.” Beauty strokes Gra’Mi’s head and Marassalsighs.

“Come with me? I will make us a breakfast and have freshclothing delivered.”

“You cook?”

“It’s more likely than you think!” He quips, leading hisdear friend out to his home for a smoother morning than the night.