eachdraidh | seelie; video; why this

[Oh, look, it's Dorian Gray! Everyone remembers Dorian Gray, right? Sweet kid, a little naive, recently got scolded at the royal audience? Well, today you wouldn't believe it, not from how very self-possessed he looks, how pleased, how utterly brazen.

One might think that someone who just got publicly called out and punished might feel more need to keep their head down and be discrete, but apparently not. Every actor needs an audience, and this actor, at least, seems to be particularly committed to enjoy the show he's putting on. Feline in recline, he speaks as one who savours language, gesturing in smooth, languid movements. He is the 1890s Aesthete come to life, in all its hedonistic glory, and he is here to share.]

How dreary we all are getting. It's the fin de siècle all over again, but with far less Oscar. Or Yeats, for that matter. [Suitably, mockingly dramatic:] "And what rough beast, its hour come round at last, / Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"

[And here's a scoff.] I'm not feeling it. We are meant to be the court of tradition, of love, of welcoming the apocalypse. And yet I haven't seen even one orgy in my time at Caer Glaem. Frankly, I'm unimpressed.

[The headshake turns back into that canary-eating smile, and he purrs out his proposal for fixing this shameful problem.]

So tonight, at the sun's setting, I'll be holding a, ah, ritual in the Magi's Workroom. Wine from Mandragora Estates—top of the line, for those tragically ignorant of the most up-and-coming vinery in the Drabwurld—and various other substances. Children not invited.

It's a protection ritual, for the record. It would be so very unsuitable to be decadently useless in our embrace of the End. Try to bring yourself as magically charged as you can.

[ooc: THERE WILL BE NO LOG FOR THIS I am not going to put up an actual orgy log dear god. But this a thing Dorian will really be doing, any character can come as long as they're over the age of consent. Wine, drugs, and sex, all night. Technically, it really is an actual magical ritual.]

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[ Lancelot

blinks.

His eyebrows loft away toward his hairline in surprise, and his mouth opens --

there's a moment where he can't really quite decide how to answer, and just sort of stays like that. A little fishlike. Then he collects himself lets out an awkward sort of half-laugh sound, awkward. ]

Is that... relevant?

[ Let the speculation over if Lancelot avoided that question for a reason begin. ]

Only as a lead in. [Also, he wanted to ask.] An orgy is a fun little get-together where everyone freely enjoys the pleasures of one another's bodies, in pairs or groups or any other combination you might imagine. It's a fun chance to get rid of the usual restraints—possibly introduce some unusual ones—and meet new people.

[ He's fishing again. Opening his mouth to speak then hesitating, wetting his lips uncertainly. Surely -- surely Dorian cannot mean what Lancelot first thinks he might imply? Surely not Dorian, who is such a sweet and bright man.

(Or who was). ]

The -- pleasures, by which you mean...

[ Does he dare ask.

Good lord he thinks he needs a strong drink to get through this conversation. ]

[Oh, Lancelot. Dorian does not mask his smile.]

Perhaps that first question was relevant after all.

[ Ah. Lancelot inhales slowly, eyebrows jumping again. Right. ]

And you mean to use the -- magi workroom for such a thing?

[ Just to be clear, because when he had those built this is not really what he imagined. ]

Gilgamesh once described it to me as a territory. I don't exactly agree with the term, or the principles behind it, but what he meant is fair enough: this is a good space for performing magic. And magic will be done tonight.

[ Do not even speak to him about Gilgamesh. ]

Territory?

[ Good lord, what on earth is wrong with some people. ]

Well... if you truly mean to perform... magic, that is why I had the room built. I suppose if you... keep it clean...

[ Lancelot cannot believe he is saying this right now. ]

[Oh, how nice. He has the Seelie Marshal's permission!

And he also has the pleasure of seeing Lancelot hilariously uncomfortable reaction, so it's basically a win/win.]

It's a technical term from his world, I didn't question it beyond the basic explanation

[He smiles.]

There will be clean up after. Promise.

[ You modern people and your... orgy rituals... ]

So long as everyone is in a fit state to return to their duties the following day I should think it will be no trouble. We could use all the protective magic we can get, the Citadel has been well spelled but Caer Glaem less so.

[OPPORTUNITY SPOTTED]

A fair point. Would you suggest that I make this a frequent occurrence, Lord Marshal? For protection's sake.

[He would never, too many orgies would bore him. But it's fun to tease Lancelot.]

[ A... frequent... hmm. Ah. Yes. ]

Well, you would know better than I how often such a... spell... would need casting to stay effective.

[Now he's not teasing and actually is answer this question in terms of magical principles.]

The energy will slowly bleed out over time. How long that take depends on how much is gathered at the orgy.

How much is... gathered?

[ An internal war: curiosity vs desire to genuinely not know what is going to happen in the workroom. ]

Would that depend on... how many people take part?

[ You know, in the... ritual... ]

Quantity is important, but quality too. The intensity of their passion, the force of their movements, the vibrance of their interactions. [Because Lancelot needed those details, right?] One never knows until the affair is done.

[ The...

...

Lancelot wets his lips nervously, because he absolutely did not need those details. Oh, my, look at the length of the shadows he has somewhere to be that is not having this conversation. ]

Well, you see to have it all in hand. I trust your judgement.

[ For some reason. ]

Your faith is appreciated, Lord Marshal. I'll do all I can to make it a grand success.

[Dorian won't comment on the lip-licking. It sure is fun in this context.]