→ take me to wonderland.

[thedominatrix]

Who: Irene & guests.
What: Birthday drinks.
Where: Syriac Well.
When: 24th Shadri.
Notes: An outfit.

Birthdays are busy when you maintain a variety of different social circles. There's the enormous, lavish, exclusive party she throws, where she stays stone cold sober and pushes drinks on everyone else, to fascinating results- there are numerous private one on one dinners for the people who all need to feel like they're her favourite, like they're getting the special treatment, poor things, and that's almost fun just because of how dishonest it is except the boredom tends to negate that. But then there's this, which is play and not work, Irene inviting people because she likes them rather than because they need to feel invited, and because when she likes people she has to insert herself into their lives and demand as much of their attention as possible.

The surroundings are incredibly sumptuous, of course, stirred by a slight breeze from the open balcony doors. The atmosphere is intimate, private, slightly heady and unreal, urged on by some excellent wine (far from the only thing on offer, of course, but particularly notable) and Irene's languid charm, her usual society persona toned down ever so slightly as if to say well, you all know the truth, which is a very insidious sort of lie that she can still have fun telling. She's being very attentive to her guests- an uncharitable observer might suggest, in fact, that she pounces on them as they arrive.

But they wouldn't get an invite.

Comments

[thedominatrix]

Matching wrapping to outfit seems perfectly sensible in Irene's opinion, and really, she'd be far more surprised if Ilde hadn't.

"It had better be. You're a darling- and you look fabulous," she adds- Ilde gets a hug and a very careful air kiss to the cheek (no point in getting lipstick all over her). She means it, even though it sounds like something easy to bat around without any significance, a social nicety; she's always liked Ilde's aesthetic- and that's an important thing in friendship. Yes?

[rhinemaid]

Silk-organza and Ilde go together like wine and bad decisions - frequently at the same time, although not tonight, not when she's waiting on news. Over the past few weeks she's discovered that social niceties are significantly more challenging without the wine, and there is a certain element of terribly earnest fluster about her manner that she'd ordinarily fix just that way.

A hug helps, in its place; a little affection has always gone a (worryingly) long way with her.

“Thank you! I was aiming for fabulous, I thought it'd be nice to complement you.” See how smoothly she made that into a compliment for Irene. Clearly she is fine at socializing sober. “I brought you this,” she adds, offering the box when they separate again. “Should I put it somewhere or do you want to open it?”

[thedominatrix]

Very smoothly. Irene accepts the compliment ("Sweet talker.") and accepts the box, adding, with a wry smile, "Gosh, you must think I'm much more patient than I am if you're giving me the choice."

She unties the ribbon carefully, and opens the box with very delicate movements, a glint in her eyes that is entirely real- she loves presents, both for the simple materialistic pleasure of new things and what they reveal about the giver, the receiver, the relationship.

[rhinemaid]

Inside is a small disc for one of the crystal music players popular in Baedal; it had been short notice, but Ilde had taken the time to sweet-talk a jeweller into customizing a glass case for it, its title and artist delicately engraved:

Emeric Featherstonehaugh's Unfinished Symphony

Ilde Decima Featherstonehaugh

“I've been making recordings, where Jae works,” she explains, “but most of those I was thinking of seeing if I could make them commercial, this one I thought I'd save, since he never finished it, so it was just ours that he was working on before the storms came. He said it was meant to be listened to right before dawn.”

[thedominatrix]

"--in that case, I'll do that."

That's- unexpected, she wants to say sweet but it doesn't seem to fit, seems too silly and immature all of a sudden. She glances back to Ilde, smile growing on her face. "Ilde, you're exceptional. And I can't wait. Thank you." Saying you're exceptional is odd, people don't say things like that, but she manages to avoid making it sound stagey or forced, her voice a low murmur. And her smile spreads more- she can go from surprised to touched to slightly wicked so easily. She holds the box close and takes a few steps back, still facing Ilde so she can talk; "I'm going to have to find somewhere safe to put this until just before dawn comes. Come on, come with me, I'm not going to maroon you in my living room. You know, I've never even heard you play anything before, how did we let that happen?"

[rhinemaid]

“I don't know!” Irene's reaction goes a long way to easing the slightly over-earnest eagerness to please - now she has, and she can relax a little bit, and follow along readily. “This is a piano symphony, that was his preferred instrument, but mine is my cello, or my harp. I have a Domenico Montagnana, which is ideal for concertos, if I had an orchestra. Which I don't.”

But still. If she did.

(Music and Ilde are inextricable from one another; it's inevitable that this is the way in which she reaches out to someone, the language that she's learned for the purpose of sharing.)

[thedominatrix]

"Is there a yet that should be on the end of that sentence?" Irene inquires, genuinely interested- hopeful, in fact. Having apparently adopted Ilde in her carelessly possessive way, Ilde's success matters to her out of a mix of affection and odd pride, show them what you can do, as if Ilde's abilities are to be weaponised against society at large.

No, she hasn't heard Ilde play yet. Yes, she's already decided to consider her an absolute genius. Well, logic is for other, less interesting people.

[rhinemaid]

In all fairness to Irene, Ilde is an absolute musical genius; it runs quite aggressively in the family, being what they are. She doesn't share her father's gift for composition, a talent of his own and not part of their shared birthright, but not all musicians do and what she does have is gift enough.

Profitable, too, when she can readily justify charging twice the top going rate for a music instructor.

“Maybe,” she laughs, half-shy. “Daddy always wanted me to perform with him - to sing for his concerts, he did a lot of philanthropy that way. But I'm, um, I don't know about it.” In small doses, it's intimidating but interesting; she isn't sure she's suited to making a career out of performance, although there are things she'd like to do.

(And Emery, for all his absence, remains ever present in her life.)

[thedominatrix]

Irene keeps noticing it, the way Ilde talks about her father- or the way she doesn't, sometimes, his outline picked out in her words nonetheless, easier to spot the more Irene listens.

She wonders, sometimes, if she should mention (lie about) her own parents sometimes, if she's making herself conspicuous by avoiding it.

(Usually, they're dead; she once told a long and detailed lie about daddy the judge and tripped herself up with a legal term).

"It's easy to get caught up in it, performing," she says, which is a joke. "I used to be a singer," she adds, which is not a lie exactly.

[rhinemaid]

Even among people who discuss their previous lives, here in Baedal, parents tend not to come up as readily as Ilde's father does; even when she'd still been living in Italy, their relationship had been unusually close compared to most of her peers, and she's grown accustomed to that. It was different, for them.

She knows why, now, or part of why.

“I'd have to be more careful, now, if I did,” she says, meaning 'sing' specifically, but any other sort of playing, too. “He would-- well, he always raised the right amount, we-- influence people. That way. I can do more now.”

She can do it consciously, which Emery never knew was even an option.

[thedominatrix]

Illusions and the ability to influence people- sometimes, Irene thinks Ilde could be terrifying (brilliant). She's never jealous, not with the reports of violence against xenians, not with the Militia, not with what Ilde herself has told her about being xenian in Baedal- though it's not just that, it's the knowledge that she gets by with perfectly human powers.

Ilde, though--

"Should we let me discuss the ethics of that, really?" she asks. (Joke about how bad you are and people forget how bad you are). "It's funny, though- people are influenced by music when it's played well, even when the musician in question doesn't have any particular powers."

[rhinemaid]

With a close-mouthed smile and some private thing (making people do things-- that goes in the box marked not allowed, only to be brought out when the purpose of use is lethal, because Sonja has a rule and that means Ilde has a rule), she sidesteps around the question of ethics (and she doesn't forget; it's what makes her comfortable). Instead--

“I think that's why it's so effective; so discreet. People talk all the time about being moved by art. It isn't so much of a leap, maybe, to be instructed by it.” More specifically. Come into the water, human; isn't it beautiful?

[thedominatrix]

"Mm, you're right. It's less likely they'll notice, and so they're less likely to question, and it speaks to something they can't put a name to anyway..."

And she would know, though not necessarily with music. It's simply that when people find things romantic, they very often don't question them for fear of spoiling the fragile illusion.

Really, half the time, the people Irene draws in do half the work for her.