InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "TERRA!"

Léon Belmont (ex_the_ambas216) wrote in toujoursliberer,
@ 2008-03-28 07:54:00

Entry tags:

ambassadors_ball, leon_belmont

An Invitation to the French Ambassador's Ball
Subject: The Ambassadors Ball
Where: The French Embassy
Who: Léon Belmont, the French Ambassador to the English court
Warnings: none as yet
Open to: All (all players may attend either as invited guests of the ambassador, as servants or guests of those invited, as staff, or as gate-crashers.)

The ballroom of the Embassy was already growing busy, and when Citizen Belmont paused for a moment besides one of the large windows, he could see yet more carriages pulling up outside, wreathed in the mist blowing in from the river.

The quartet had been playing now for a good half an hour, new French tunes as well as those the English favoured. His staff was busy handing out good French wine, and then refilling those glasses when they were drained.

It was going to be a good evening, and not only in the eyes of the party-goers. With some of England’s most prominent aristos on the guest list, and some than some newly arrived French nationals, tonight would be a night of information gathering, of sizing up the opposition, and perhaps even ensuring some of those French escapees were returned to face justice.

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antoine_laurent
2008-04-30 06:03 pm UTC (link)

Antoine had been getting ready for this event for a little over a week. He'd ordered new attire for all three of them - himself, his father, and his brother. He'd wanted to make a good impression. Though they'd been in this country almost two months now, this event could help to solidify their standing. They were prominent Frenchmen, but that wouldn't help them in this case. They needed to impress people now - not using what they were. And his brother was just the person to help with that. As usual, he felt a small twinge of regret at what he forced his brother to do, but it was for the best of the family and that was what mattered.

Entering the Embassy, Antoine had given Amié some more time outside. He figured that it would be best - give him a chance to make an entrance. With that thought in mind, Antoine stepped into the entry parlor and shrugged off his coat. He made it seem like it was effortless, like he belonged here. But honestly, he was always so lost in the beginning of any gathering. And as he was still learning names of the people that were the most important to know, he was often at a loss.

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mercedes_dupont
2008-04-30 10:48 pm UTC (link)

Mercedes could not help but recognise Antoine Laurent. He has the one member of the little family that had seemed so aloft at their initial meeting on the wet, dark dockside that unpleasant evening. The old man had made a little impression, Aimé, although he hadn't know the boys name at that point, had seemed withdrawn, and Antoine, the leader, had been aloft, ungrateful, and snobbish. The sort that Mercedes privately wished the Revolution had got its hands on.

Still, now they were in England, safe, and daring enough to come here. The conversation he had held outside with Aimé only a few minutes before had settled him, but not much. As well as the Ambassador, Mercedes now had to face the lesser of two evils, as the movement of the crowd in the room shifted him in Antoine's direction. He could be polite, of course, if it came to it, but what did one say to a man that now snubbed you in all social situations.

And yet the crowd forced them nearer and nearer, and if Mercedes did not say something now, society would write him off as a rude, mannerless merchant.

"Monsieur Laurent." He greeted. That was all that was needed. So he hoped.

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