Log One: The Festivities Begin!

["Kathie Care" <kathie@availablelight.net>]

I would encourage everyone to post their logs from the fete participation over
the next several days... the more, the merrier, as they say!

~Ophelia

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12/25/01
Logfile from Dune - Ophelia
Where the Great Houses vie for power in the Padishah Imperium....

Grumman Hall -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)

        Constructed with a single purpose in mind, to illustrate the wealth and
influence of House Moritani, this magnificent hall accomplishes its goal.
Colonnaded hallways make up the eastern and western boundaries of the vast three
story hall. Immense marble columns support the arches that rise nearly one
hundred fifty feet above. Resting upon the four arches is a huge golden dome
with small windows ringing its base. Shining down from the top of the rotunda in
gold filigree is the symbol of the Lion Throne, serving of a constant reminder
to all of House Moritani's service and loyalty to the Padishah Emperor.

        Directly opposite this magnificent golden lion, inlaid in the floor by
mosaic, is the Moritani coat of arms. Easily two hundred feet from top to
bottom, the mosaic is set within a circular field of black marble, which in turn
is surrounded by white alabaster that blazes brightly when caught by the light
from the windows of the dome.



Exits:
 Grand Staircase <U> leads to Great Landing -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)
 Oaken Doors <W> leads to Chapel -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)
 Alabaster Arch <E> leads to Banquet Hall -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)
 Ornate Arch <S> leads to Consistory -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)
 Colossal Arch <N> leads to Reception Hall -- Moritani Embassy (Kaitain)


The vast main hall of the Moritani embassy is filled with crates, and still more
coming in. Already, the staff has begun unpacking them, fragile-looking boughs
of greenery adorned with burgundy ribbons as well as silken streamers and round
blown-glass balls. In the center of the hall, the men of the stables have
hoisted upwards an immense evergreen, its needles long and fragrant. There is
much laughter as the men strugge with getting the tree perfectly upright, and
even the Countess, off to the side, laughs as she oversees the spectacle.

Just then, men with suspensors arrive to make the job much easier. Though the
air is still one of great festivity, despite the work being done to deck the
Moritani halls for the holiday.

Ophelia laughs quietly at something Marco has said, shaking her head. "You'll
have to tell me later, Marco, whatever it is... we've guests already."

Step. Step. Slight shuffle...pause to rebalance. Step. Step. A young looking man
in Harkonnen livery works his way slowly into the great Hall, bearing in his
arms a large platter with what looks to be a small planter of lilies with all
the weight of the world. His pointed features are composed in a slightly nervous
smile, his blue eyes flicking down to his burden frequently as he makes his way
into the middle of the room. Hopefully, someone will tell him what to do when he
gets there.

Marco turns as she says guest though he still looks at her suspiciously before
turning his atttention at the newly arrived pair. The Count nods to the two men.
"Good evening."

Assuming a pair of Harkonnen lackeys qualifies as guests. Fahd enters in company
with Felix, the guard wearing that faint but clearly indentifiable aura of a
guardsman riding herd on a charge - though in this case, it seems his duty is to
protect Felix and the flowers. At Marco's greeting, he makes the appropriate
bow. "My lady, my lord."

Servants rush to the aide of the overburdened visitor, chattering in light tones
as no less than four offer to take the man's burden from him.

Ophelia steps forward, away from the spectacle of the tree being set upright,
giving both of the Harkonnen pair a healthy nod. "Buon Natale!" she exclaims,
opening her arms wide to encompass.. well.. the disaster area of Grumman Hall.
She looks around, slightly sheepishly, though she grins broadly. "Be welcome,
friends... but only if you promise to return again later when we've finished our
preparations and might greet you more properly!"

Marco smiles and glances back around at the men on the suspensors. Things appear
to be heading in good order.

Felix fusses quite properly over his burden, making sure that is grasped firmly,
here, from the bottom, and must they press so closely, and that's just spun
sugar, it'll crumble you know. When he is finally relieved of his load, he turns
his elfish smile to the Contessa. "Ah, buon natale, Noble Born," he says,
dipping into a courtly bow. His accent manages to almost, but not completely,
destroy the delicate phrasing of the season's greeting. "We bring tidings from
House Harkonnen...ah, and a dessert." He tips his head towards the lilies that
appear, upon closer inspection, to be edibles of the ooey-gooey variety.

Fahahd nods, keeping the ever appropriate pokerface. NEvermind that Felix's
fussiness over the sweets is an endless amusement to the guard.

"It will have a place of honor upon our feast-tables," Ophelia says solemnly,
giving the Moritani servants now bearing the tray a nod of dismissal, and, a
stern look. The meaning of the look needs no translation; if any petal of that
confectioner's masterpiece is harmed... there'll be Hell to pay.

Marco says, "We thank you for the generous gift from our kinsmen of House
Harkonnen."

"Ah, why, thank you, my Lady Countess," Felix says graciously. His cheeks turn
appropriately rosy, as though here were taking the complement quite personally.
Perhaps he's having a moment. His eyebrows lift expressively as he continues,
"I'm sure the Lord Baron and his family will be arriving once the festivities
are, ah, in full swing. That is to say, once the arrangements are complete," he
adds, not wishing to insinuate that he wasn't having a dandy time at present. He
looks to the suspensor work interestedly, with the eye of one used to overseeing
such things. "I see everything is proceeding quite well, then," he adds as an
afterthought.

A cheer goes up from the workers, as they step back and realize that the tree is
secured proudly upright. The women rush in then, with strings of tiny glowglobes
and the silken wide ribbons to circle around and around the tree. Someone on the
other side begins to quietly sing, and the voices of the other servants join in
with little hesitation.

(OOC) Fahahd suddenly has this strange image ofthe Whos from the Grinch
gathering to sing around the tree.

(OOC) Marco strips naked and paints himself green.

(OOC) Felix sees a bunch of oddly-annimated children and a dog turning their
mouths to the sky. Loo loo loo, loo-loo loo loo loo...

(OOC) Ophelia hides her eyes!

(OOC) Fahahd dies.

(OOC) Felix cries out in pain, stabbing his corneas with some marzipan lilies.

Ophelia chuckles quietly, pausing to look over her shoulder as the revelry rises
in volume. This is, perhaps, the first ever time any Siridar of the Moritani has
brought this holiday to Kaitain. At least, by the looks of it, it is. That, or,
such a thing has not happened in a very, very long time. But her attention
returns to the Harkonnen guests very soon, and she remarks warmly, "I do so hope
to see your Lord Baron, and his most beloved family, in attendance. I would very
much enjoy sharing our holiday with our dear friends and cousines of House
Harkonnen."

Fahahd replies, in his own still-unpolished Galach, "My lady's good wishes shall
certainly be conveyed to my Lord Baron."

"Good," Ophelia says archly, grinning. "It would also be most beneficial to have
the presence of Count Maas... as these traditions will soon be his as well."

Felix broadens his smile, answering, "I'm quite certain that the Count will be
in attendance as well, my Lady Countess. Perhaps before his Lordship the Baron."
He pauses to wonder if this might insinuate anything about the Baron's feelings
towards House Moritani at the moment, protocol not being his, Felix's,
strongpoint. "Or after," he decides to append helpfully.

Marco looks back the decorating and turns his attention back to the guests with
a curious look.

Fahahd pointedly doesn't meet the gaze of the nobleman, though he does venture
gently, "I'm sure my lord would not dare miss a moment of the festivites that
his duties would permit him to attend," An oblique excuse, but the best he can
manage at the moment. He's not exactly diplomatic corps himself, either.

Felix seems to relax a bit. Yes, that says it quite well, doesn't it? His smile
perks up a few more points, revealing deep dimples in his cheeks.

Ophelia tucks her hands behind her back, her skirts swishing as she shifts from
one foot to the other. "Can I have wine brought for you, gentlemen? Surely, the
weight of such a delicate burden has raised a thirst...?" Ever the accomodating
hostess.

Marco says, "Something light, or maybe some eggnog?"

"My lady is very kind to offer, but I fear I had best refuse - I am still on
duty," Fahd replies apologetically, though his regret appears sincere.

Felix merely nods emphatically in agreement, lips held together quite tightly.

Soft laughter meets the refusals as Ophelia shakes her head slowly. "It is
possible to have refreshment within this embassy, without spirits."

Marco gives a small smirk. That's a first for the Moritani.

Fahahd wavers, then finally inclines his head in assent. He's pretty sure that
both Felix and himself are small enough fish that no one would bother to poison
them. "As my lady pleases."

Felix adds a grateful, "Thank you, my Lady Countess." After all, sampling the
offerings of other Embassies *could* be constituted as work. A man in such a
position must keep abreast in his field, after all. Away with mediocrity, and
forever the Paschek way! Or somesuch.

Ophelia nods, turning to the servants clustered around the tree. Already, much
of its decorations are on it. "Bravo! Bravissimo!" she applauds them, her r's
rolling thickly as her Grumman accent comes out. "Mathilde, grape juice, for our
friends, hmm? The sweet white, I think..."

The woman singled out bobs a quick curtsey and dashes off to the kitchens, her
cheeks bright with the excitement of the day.

Marco says, "Does House Harkonnen have such celebrations?"

Fahahd nods, still seriously. "Indeed. We have the annual winter solstice
festival, my lord."

Felix nods enthusiastically. "A rather large affair, my Lord. Plans begin
several months in advance on Giedi Prime, although I've yet to orchestrate them
on Kaitain personally."

It's only a few moments later that Mathilde returns, glasses already beaded with
the perspiration of chilled beverage on her tray, numbered four in total. She
bobs another curtsey, offering first a glass to the Countess, then to the
guests.

"Are those activities ever conducted on Kaitain?" Ophelia queries, accepting one
of the glasses with a small nod to the serving woman.

"Not any time in recent memory, I believe, my lady," Fahd replies, as he accepts
the glass of juice gratefully.

Marco waits for his turn, taking the last glass. Inspecting it before finally
drinking from it. "What activities are conducted for this solstice?"

Felix takes a large gulp from the grape juice, nodding to the woman offering the
glasses. "There is, ah, on occassion, a small celebration arranged for staff
members remaining behind," Felix says carefully. "They are generally rather
reserved, as the Baron's family and his closest ministers return to Barony."

"I've not the luxury of returning to Grumman, this year," Ophelia says quietly
over the rim of her glass. "Duty, and my cousin's trial, demand I remain here."
And that just explains everything.

Felix's mouth opens and closes in a silent 'ah.' He settles on drinking more
grape juice, making short work of his glass...one learns to enjoy pleasures
quickly in House Harkonnen. At least, as long as one is on active duty, and that
duty does not directly involve said pleasures.

Fahahd keeps his mouth firmly shut on the details of the rituals conducted to
ensure the fertility and prosperity of the Giedi populace, and simply nods.
Crisco orgies simply don't bear speaking off in this company.

Marco looks between the men for an answer but when none is given he shrugs to
himself, sipping the juice. "What do you think so far of the decorations?"

"Perhaps.. Count Maas might be so good as to indoctrinate me in the tradition of
his people some day soon. Tell me... when do these celebrations on Giedi begin?"
Ophelia asks, completely innocent in tone and expression. Surely, she's never
heard of the activities herself.

Felix turns to Marco, but forbears from disclosing such butlerish details as
'perhaps that young lady's dress could be of a bit more shapely cut,' or 'maybe
the floors could be washed more frequently.' "They're quite lovely," he says in
his most earnest tones.

All solemnity, Fahd nods....there is, however, a very betraying blush standing
out on his fair skin. "Ah. About ten days before the solstice itself, my lady."

"And when will that be, in relation to our calendar here on Kaitain?" Ophelia
asks next. Indeed, she's quite curious. And perhaps even enthused about more
holidays to celebrate...

Felix's own cheeks begin to suffuse with blood. He listlessly fingers his glass.

The Count looks sharply over to Ophelia with a raised eyebrow.

Fahahd mentally runs through the reckoning, trying to remember the timetable on
the last dispatches from Giedi itself. "I believe....in about twelve days, my
lady. Though I may well be in error."

Felix bites his lip, then adds, "Thirteen days, my Lady Countess, and several
hours." He glances back to Fahahd regretfully, having been intimately involved
with said timetables.

Fahahd looks not at all abashed at the correction, merely gesturing in
acknowledgement.

Marco says, "Is there a problem?"

Ophelia clasps her hands before her as she grins. "Most excellent.. they
coincide with our own.. Perhaps we might throw a joint Moritani and Harkonnen
fete to celebrate it."

A logistical nightmare starts to chase Felix. It'll be difficult sleeping
tonight. He looks to Marco with a plastered smile. "Problem, my Lord?"

Fahahd returns to the comforting shelter of his pokerface. "Indeed, my lady," he
admits, wanly.

If anything were amiss, Ophelia either pays it no mind, or, simply doesn't see
it. "Excellent.. most excellent. We should invite all of Kaitain, then.... Most
definitely, all of Kaitain."

Marco stares at them both with his Arrakian eyes, "Something seems to bother you
both. I hope the grape juice finds you well?"

Fahahd looks quickly down to the juice, and pastes on a smile. "Oh, it's very
fine, my lord."

"Perhaps," Felix cuts in presently, jumping into the fray with his smile serving
as a weak shield, "the Contessa does not completely *understand* the customs of
the Harkonnen winter solstice. They are, on the whole, slightly private affairs,
not nec--what?" He turns to Marco, then looks to his glass suspiciously. "Should
it not?"

Marco studies the two men with a mild stoic expression, "It should be most
delicious. You look as though something troubles you both. Any how, seeing that
the Coutness is not familiar with the customs, perhaps you both can educate us?"

"Then perhaps I should be enlightened, when I ask for such information," Ophelia
arches a brow, the look aimed at Felix first, and then Fahahd. "Moritani women
might be sheltered, on the whole... and my cage might be slightly larger, and
perhaps more luxurious, than those of my sisters on my homeworld... but that
does not mean information cannot be slipped through the bars. That does not mean
I should be denied that which I ask. Now... who would wish to tell me what it is
I do not understand?"

<Moritani> The Machine Marco says, "I feel like Han Solo in Star Wars, "It's not
wise to upset a Wookie.""

Once more into the breach, dear friends. Fahd simply gives in, and dares to look
directly at the Countess, for once. "Much of it is concerned with the literal
fertility of the people. In some variants of the festival, they are given
opportunities to publically demonstrate their skill in such...activities, to
appear more desirable as possible marriage partners in the spring celebrations,
which is when most weddings in Giedi take place." His tone is utterly dry,
despite his blush.

<Moritani> Ophelia says, "Just don't bend the wookie, eh?"

<Moritani> The Machine Marco grins.

Felix draws himself up, brushing his arms against his stomach and then letting
them drop to his sides, clutching strongly onto his glass throughout. You tell
'em, Fahahd. Go team. "Such practices," he adds in a firm afterthought -- years
as a Harkonnen servant have taught him better than to dissemble at the first
sign of a stern voice -- "...are perhaps not best suited for *public*
engagements."

Marco says, "He just said they publically demonstrate them. So are you saying
they don't?"

Felix regards Marco with a rather scolding stare. "If it pleases my Lord, the
*rabble* publically demonstrate."

<<Felix thinks: After all, an orgy's not public, is it?>>

Felix purses his lips in momentary thought.

<<Felix thinks: At least the *good* ones aren't.>>

Fahahd nods, solemnly to this.

"Well then, that doesn't sound so bad," Ophelia notes wryly. In contrast to the
Harkonnen visitors, she does NOT blush. Intead, she grins quite impishly.
"Perhaps, I am inclined to agree with you. A public engagement is inappropriate.
However, a private one... we might be amenable to, if your Lord Baron and his
family are of a similar mind. I leave it up to your noble House... but I think
we might be inclined to accept. We certainly would not be insulted to receive
such an invitation."

Marco raises an eyebrow to the men. God bless Grumman women.

Fahahd looks as if he'd swallowed a live prawn, for just an instant before he
returns his expression to its usual blandness. He hasn't been this shocked since
Prince Eduard suggested that he might marry Jenaa. "Oh, of course, my lady.
Certainly."

Felix nods once, belatedly.

Ophelia waves a ringed hand. "Of course," she echoes. "If you will pardon me,
gentlemen... we have preparations to continue. I think, unfortunately, the
mistletoe is buried in the bottom of one of these crates, else I would explain
its tradition to you. I do hope you'll come again, and share with us in our
festivities."

Fahahd bows deeply, relief evdeitn. "OF course, my lady." That said, he hastily
hands his juice off to the nearest servant.

Felix's smile tightens by some odd adjustment. "Thank you very much for your
hospitality, my Lady Countess. Ah, and for the grape juice." He, too, hands his
empty glass off and offers a low, straight-backed bow. "Good evening."

Marco nods to them both all the while keeping his distant glare on them. "Good
evening to you both."

Ophelia smiles warmly once again, "Buon Natale!" she grins, before backing a
step away and turning to the decorating and singing still taking place in the
center of the vast hall.

Felix walks to the north and passes through the Colossal Arch.
Felix has left.

Fahahd walks to the north and passes through the Colossal Arch.
Fahahd has left.


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