The doors to Rabble Art have been propped open to encourage people to meander into the room. A variety of food and drinks has been set out on a table for guests to enjoy. A row of easels lines the back of the room and art supplies have been set out upon the tables to encourage visitors to dabble in whatever sparks their interest. Samira stands near the blank wall, hands folded together to keep from fidgeting with nervous energy. "Welcome to Rabble Art! Please come and enjoy yourselves - paint, draw, help yourselves to refreshments. Our communal wall is ready for some color. Anyone who wishes to is encouraged to add their own artistic flair to the wall."

The tail end of an Iron Guard Patrol led Michael to nearly wandering into Lady Media Saik. Literally walking into. Small chatter and other such talks has him about-facing to become an impromptu escort. Lower Boroughs and the like has Michael winding Medeia's hand through his elbow until the pair arrive at Rabble Art and enter nearly in lock step. "You may crow your victory in the whites, Lady Medeia. You have succeeded in bringing Lord Michael Bisland to something art related."

Korka is here partaking of the free food and drink and giving a quizzical look to one of the pieces of art on display. The large one of the lowers. She tilts her head thoughtfully, dark hair spilling down over her shoulder, as she takes a large swig of her drink, "Is the dog supposed to be a reminder of how we're all scavenging our way through life, unwashed and untended, grabbing at scraps others leave behind? Or is it more that there was just a dog around when the painter did this one?"

Insaya comes to greet the proprietor with a cheery expression, a little wad of clay in her hands. At least, she seems to think it is clay in a way that she might me very upset, rolling it into skinny ropes in her hands, should she discover it is not. "Did you do the mural yourself?" To Korka, she says, "That went deep in a hurry."

Medeia grins up at Michael's comment, "I'll be sure to." She loosens her hand from the man's elbow and pushes back her cloak, sending a subtle nod of greeting in Samira's direction before stepping further in to look around.

Arriving at the opening celebrations, Sunniva starts by leaving her guards just outside the open doors. It may be the Lower Buroughs, but it seems the Marquessa trusts that things will be kosher for the evening. Taking one step in over the threshold, Sunniva lets her honey coloured eyes scan over the various gathered individuals as if looking for someone, a faint smile on her lips.

2 House Velenosa Guards, Robyn, an artful archeress, Sir Harrier, a hunting hawk arrive, following Ophelia.

Ophelia arrives, following Rowley.

A particularly worn-out Confessor has been situated within the room for quite some time now, not arriving from the outside but rather coming down from the upstairs with a rag stained with various discolorations of blue, red and green held in one hand. An equal variety of paint pigments his fingertips, and try as he might to scrub his digits clean they're perpetually tinted for the time being. "I think-" Gael opines from not-too-far, shadowing Insaya and Korka both, "-the dog's meant to represent the everyday toil in the commons, Inquisitor. To make you ask the question: "Here you are, suffering away. What makes it worthwhile?""

The concept behind Rabble Art was enough to draw Rook down to the Lowers and then to the studio. Slipping through the doors with a nod of his head in the direction of Samira, the Minister takes a moment to look about the area, hands clasped behind his back. The mural happens to draw his attention and he's regarding it a moment, smile darting too his lips. Then his gaze drifts about to the others that have gathered, a small nod being offered here and there.

Mimi shows up with a painting under one arm. She's dressed in a cowl-necked tea dress, a departure from her usual kirtles and long skirts, her hair loose and a riot of curls.

Light footsteps carry Caprice in the wake of a smaller group of onlookers who immediately take to touring what art is already on display. She, however, breaks off to approach Samira and the conversation blossoming near her - after a detour for a drink.

Sam, who is a boy and definitely not a princess in disguise, 4 Grayson House Guards arrive, following Niklas.

Arriving late to the event comes Brother Rowley Keaton. He is outfit in the robes of a priest of the Faith, thought they are quite stained with paints, as are his hands which he is wiping on his robes somewhat self consciously. Glancing to the side at Ophelia, who arrives with him, he offers a nod to show that they must have made it to the right place before his eyes shift around the space once more, taking it in.

Michael's hands lower to hold in front of him as he follows after Medeia. Because...art. Someone will need to guide him through this place. "Is there a theme or anything for the event?"

Acacia enters next, the tall dark leather-clad redhead giving the space a once over before she enters, her honeybrown eyes shining with approval at the space. An upnod offered to the few she knows, the red Culler drifts deeper in, and after liberating a drink moves along the outside of the room with a slight sway in her hip to look over the art displayed.

"I did," Samira answers to Insaya, her gaze following the woman's toward the mural. "I wanted it to represent the Lowers as a whole. This place isn't going to be for me to display my art alone; it's for the community. I want people to feel that it's a safe place, a calm spot away from the chaos where they can create or enjoy others' creations." Overhearing Korka, she flashes a small sardonic smile. "You word it so well."

Mimi silently walks over to the communal art wall and finds a place for her painting, choosing just the right spot, and standing on her tiptoes to hang the canvas on the wall. She takes a few steps back, deciding she likes it.

Mimi puts The Prophet, an oil painting in a communal art wall.

"The dog clearly thinks that eating that trash makes it worthwhile," Korka replies to Gael, voice a bit mild as she tilts her head a little further to the point of being in danger of being off balance before she rights herself, "I think it makes me ask the question of why anyone would live here, but that might be rude since we're standing in a shop that's in the place the painting depicts. Is the painter more of a dog person than a cat person?" she raises her mug to Samira in acknowledgement that she's actually right there, "We may never know."

Ophelia arrives with Rowley and immediately sweeps her gaze over the room to view people and artwork all around. She smiles softly at a few familiar faces while making her way further inside the gallery and as she does, she leans a bit closer to murmur something to the priest.

Looking behind her at Michael, Medeia smiles softly and reaches to take one of his hands, leading him toward the mural. However, she spots several familiar faces and gets distracted from it. "Crown Minister Rook, Marquessa Harthall, Mistress Caprice!" She gives each a friendly wave.

Hearing his name, Rook is distracted from his glance about, gaze darting around until it comes to find Medeia. A smile dances to his lips and he's offering an incline of his head towards her, "Lady Medeia. Are you following me?" There's a tease there and then his gaze drifts further, finding Caprice, to whom he's giving a smile and a nod.

Niklas comes on in to the gallery followed by his timid assistant Sam and flanked on all sides by hardy Grayson guards. A prince of the realm doesn't go wandering about in the lowers without a compliment of guards! Why, there are POOR people down here! He's decked out in head to toe honeysilk, with a gold and mirrorsilver coronet and more gold on his fingers and wrist and probably his ankles and toes and who knows where else. And as one might expect from a luminary of the Compact, Niklas immediately heads over to the table with the free food and drink and loads up before he starts actually looking at the art.

Nox, a kitten black as pitch with star-dappled fur arrives, following Ophira.

Sunniva smiles a little wider as she spots Brother Rowley's arrival, and as she opens her mouth to greet him, she is cut off as she, instead, is greeted. Turning her head, she quickly spots Medeia, and lifts her hand to offer a slight wave of greeting. Turning, she starts towards the other woman, inclining her head as she approaches. "Lady Medeia, a pleasure!" she replies, though she quickly offers a tip of her head in greeting to Rook and Caprice as well.

"Your eye may gravitate toward the shocking aspects of it, but there's beauty and hope to be found there too. Not all is bleak in the Lowers, its people least of all," Samira points out to Korka. Her gaze scans the crowd, a smile sent toward some of the familiar faces she spots. The first addition to the wall, Mimi's painting, steals her attention and she drifts over to peer at it. "That's beautifully done. A study in contradictions maybe? Thank you for adding it."

Caprice raises her glass to Medeia and Michael by proxy, the smile for them lingering to reflect on Rook next. Close enough now to Samira that it's not necessary to shout, the copper-haired clothier notes, "This is fantastic. Oh- looks like you've got your first addition for the communal wall." Sunniva garners a dip of head in turn, and another smile, before Caprice asks of nobody in particular: "Someone, choose a color."

Mimi blushes. "It was an old friend of mine," she murmurs.

The Confessor's about to answer Korka, but all of his focus is entirely stolen away by Mimi's painting. It's odd, this focus -- it's as if the room-space around him greys out towards a frame of insignificance, and the drawing itself stands bright and vivid like a flame at the center of his vision, the kind that beckons him forward, and so he goes, nearing the mural. And once he's by it, his head bevels left, then quietly right, to consider it. "I knew this guy," Gael unabashedly speculates, holding up a palm to frame with his fingers each pigtail. "He went around wearing patchy boots. Eli, or something, right?" Maybe he's talking to Mimi, but the way he gesticulates for the painting alone makes it a fifty-fifty.

Insaya coils a little pot in the palm of her hand. Tiny. It's hard to imagine a use for a pot that small. "I can see that as being pretty cathartic, in ways that could be interesting for the casual observer. Do you have performance anxiety, when you art, Confessor?" she directs toward Gael. "I can't even draw a straight line if someone is looking over my shoulder. But it might be nice to have something for the wall at the Inquest dormitories. Something with not a lot of red in it? I think I may need to drink a lot first."

Spying Sunniva across the way, Rowley steers his own direction to greet the Marquessa. Once he has drawn near enough he greets her with a dip of his head, "Marquessa, it is good to see you here. I had wondered if you might find your way to the opening." Looking toward Ophelia at his side he says, "Princess, have you met Marquessa Sunniva? She is my patron."

Mimi nods her head quietly at Gael's question. "Yes. I didn't think anyone would recognize him," she says sheepishly.

The chit chat continues as Acacia skirts the edges of the place, pausing a moment to let her gaze drift over the piece. Features soft, she gives it a study before moving to lean lightly upon the wall to watch the event unfold.

A little grin flits across the redhead's face as she watches Samira artfully speak with her guests about the mural portrayed and the often overlooked beauty found in the Lowers and its people. Acacia can't seem to help by smile faintly again.

Sir Floppington the Soulful Hound arrives, following Rowenova.

Showing up fashionably late: Scout Rowenova and Sir Floppington! They are here, indeed. The latter stays close to the legs of the former, even going so far as to lean into her as she guides through the easels and what nots.

"Blue," Sunniva offers to Caprice when the request is made for a colour. And then Rowley is joining the little conversation circle, and the Marquessa ahs softly and motions him closer. "Brother Rowley, yes - I had hoped you would be here as well. I could hardly /not/ come support something like this." The redhead looks to the Princess and dips a quick curtsey. "Your Highness, a pleasure. Lady Medeia, have you met my protege, Brother Rowley Keaton?"

Ophelia shakes her head with a small smile. "I have not. It's a pleasure to meet you, Marquessa." There's a quick curtsy for Sunniva after they are introduced. "You've a talented protege. He crafts the most elegant mobiles I've seen in the city. I'm afraid I interrupted him while he was painting this evening, though." She turns to Rowley with a curious smile. "What /were/ you painting anyway?"

Gael takes a deep, solemn breath of air, one that's released just as wistfully. "I'm sorry, you know, about what happened," he tells Mimi, struggling an ill-shaped smile her way that irks towards the awkward, and then he foots away, leaving her with Samira to go back to Insaya and Korka's side. "What did you say, performance anxiety?" He asks the former, somewhat belatedly; "I don't draw. It's not that I suck at it, it's just -- the whole putting of one's feelings on canvas? Pass."

"Ohhhhh, Caprice. Have the two of you managed to meet and chat and drink and things?" Michael turns towards Caprice with a quick grin before nodding along to the Marquessa and the Crown Minister. "Hello, hello. I'm Lord Michael Bisland."

Rook is offering a smile and an incline of his head in the direction of Sunniva when she looks to him, only for him to flit his gaze to Caprice, "Purple." Then, it's over towards Michael, to whom he's giving a smile, "A pleasure, Lord Bisland. Rook Champagne." Catching a ... lot of gold off to one side, he's looking that way, only to spot Niklas, which has him giving a low chuckle, "Prince Niklas. You're looking rather dashing. I see you dressed for the occasion."

After Michael introduces himself, Rowenova and Floppington stop nearby. "Hey! Were those racing cows your cows?"

Medeia smiles at Rook. "I rather think you're the one following me." When Sunniva approaches her, she inclines her head and agrees, "The pleasure is mine, Marquessa. I did not think to find you here. I will follow up on your missive tomorrow, thank you." But then she's hearing Samira say something about the people of the Lowers not being bleak, and she's tilting her head to hear her better. Her attention turns back to Sunniva. "I have not, hello, Brother Keaton, lovely to meet you." She nods at the man distractedly. She needs to look at the mural. Something about her and Caprice meeting enters her ears, but she slips away from Michael to find a good vantage point and stares at the mural in awe.

Aedric enters the gallery with Lady Seraceni in tow, expression conveying a mild sense of disoriented bewilderment. This was the first time he'd ever visited a shop dedicated entirely to the marketing of the bold and avant-garde, but the sailor's curiosity had overpowered his hesitation. The presence of paints and brushes did give him some pause, now concerned that he would be expected to create something for the world to pass its judgment upon. Muscles grow rigid and boots slow to an abrupt halt. Maybe there was still time to reconsider.

Offering a dip of his head in return to Medeia as she greets him, Rowley offers, "A pleasure to meet you as well." Then she is off and he is left looking between Sunniva and Ophelia. He smiles somewhat in response to Ophelia's question before he says, "Truthfully, I am not sure yet. Sometimes I just begin to paint and wait to see what happens..." Gesturing toward Mimi, Rowley points her out to both Sunniva and Ophelia. "Madame Mimi is also a very talented artist in the city. If you have not yet had the opportunity to admire her work, you really should."

"Blue," Caprice repeats, another thankful raise of her glass directed towards Sunniva. She drinks long and contemplatively, eyeing the communal wall over the glass's edge. Rook's later suggestion earns a flashing grin and a tipping chin for apology; to him, she asks instead, "Give me a thing." As for Michael's query, she assures him with a quiet laugh, "An ongoing process, Your Highness, but wildly successful thus far! It's been requested you both join me for the second half, however. Maybe we can schedule that for sometime soon..."

"Bisland's cows did in fact race at Ashford, but I do believe they are 'disqualified' from racing in the last leg from City Center to Grayson Grounds hoping in two weeks or so." Michael had heard the question and tried to find the person...but the crowd. Too much of a crowd for Michael to track people down. "Oh no." But Michael in fact, corrects. "I mean, Good evening Prince Niklas. You've taken to honeysilk I see? Not Damask?"

Samira glances toward Gael, a flicker of recognition sparking in her gaze as he speaks the name of the painting's subject. "I never knew him, but heard a lot about him," she notes to Mimi, offering a smile. She catches Medeia's eye, a grin sent in the noblewoman's direction although she turns greet the newcomers, a welcoming wave ushering in Rowenova, Aedric, and any others just arriving. "Please, come in and make yourself comfortable. Enjoy refreshments, help yourself to the art supplies. There's a whole wall just begging to have artwork added to it. Even just a simple sketch or design, if you'd like."

"That would be hard for someone with no feelings," Korka muses to Gael without looking at him, turning instead to Insaya, "Are you an artist at all, Inquisitor? The only thing I tend to draw up are plans." When Samira explains a bit more about the painting she listens, but doesn't seem convinced, sipping her drink again.

Hearing Medeia's reply, there's a quick laugh and an incline of his head, "Perhaps." A wink is then given, only for him to turn his attention over towards Caprice, to consider her request a moment before he's offering up, "How about a ... river." A quick smile and then he's moving over to claim himself one of the drinks.

Caprice drops 20 books.

Niklas offers Rook a bow in return to the man's greeting. "To be true, I was just sitting around like this and remembered there was an event to attend! I feel rather dowdy, really." This is probably a joke. Looking over the art on display he says, "This is quite nice. I always thought the city could use more art galleries that featured art that was a bit less ... depressing." When Michael greets him he offers the neverduke a bobbing of the head in hello. "Lord Michael! Please tell me you didn't bring a cow. Or please tell me that you did! I don't know that a cow would do well in an art gallery, but it would certainly be quite transgressive."

Fingers curled tenderly affectionate around the Blackshore's arm as they walked in entwined, bright eyes taking in the crowd and the lushly decorated walls. At the pause of boots and the tensing of muscles underneath deft touch a musical laugh finds freedom, "Interested in displaying any hidden artistic talents?" Was purred, Ophira taking a moment to marvel at the mural.

After Michael's words, Nova seems satisified. She nods slightly even though the noble man does not know where to look to see such response. Maybe, it was a ghost in the gallery? She soon looks to Samira with a smile, shaded by her pelt, before mouthing a thank you and side stepping toward the table of vittles.

Insaya gives a shrug, and says, "I don't know what else you'd call it. Like being privy-shy, or when the dog wants to go out walkies in the middle of the night, and nothing happens?" Blinkblink. She has made a little rim around the top of her coil-pot, and is using a fingernail to make a ledge for a lid. "I don't know that it's art. My first partner made me do a couple months drawing ... scenes. And in the morgue. Lots of red." Her nose wrinkles. "Said it would help me to notice things, though. But I used to make things, when I worked as a tinker. Little models and mock-ups... You?"

When Ophelia compliments Rowley, Sunniva's smile spreads just a little wider. "Indeed. I was gifted one, myself, and have commissioned several others. I am lucky to call him my protege." When Medeia mentions her missive, Sunniva ahs yet again and bobs her head. "I shall look forward to it, Lady Medeia. Please, do come by Harthall Keep." She shifts her weight gently from left foot to right, her hand lifting to shield a sudden yawn politely before she gives her head a slight shake. Looking back to Rowley and Ophelia, she smiles softly. "I am not certain how long I shall last at this event, I'm afraid."

An upnod is offered to Rowenova as she arrives and another sip is taken. Acacia quietly listen to the jests and banter that drifts happily across the room and they mingle and meet.

Mimi nods her head slowly to Samira. "He took me in and gave me a place to sleep when I was new to the city. I slept on the floor of his rooming house until I saved up enough to buy the building that is now my gallery. He was a good friend to me and I owe him a great debt of gratitude, and I found his stories enchanting."

Raphael slipped into the venue, peering around with curious amber eyes.

With quick, nimble fingers, Medeia wipes at the corners of her eyes where tears have begun to form. She glances around quickly, but her gaze is drawn right back to the mural with a fond expression. Then, she shaking her head and, with a surprising agility, weaving through the crowd to Samira and wrapping the woman in a hug. "Samira, it's perfect, you expressed it so perfectly."

Nova gently pets Sir Floppington upon his long-eared noggin then pulls around her Messenger Bag which she props up on the table edge before pulling out the togo boxes for which she is well known: a wooden box with leather straps to ultimately secure the fliptop lid. She soon reshoulders her Messenger Bag before opening up the togo box and nonchalantly filling the inner partitions with meaty goodness as well as any nice cheeses and potential veggies. And, there is a nod forth toward Acacia as well as a little smile, too.

Nox, a kitten black as pitch with star-dappled fur have been dismissed.

Rowenova says, "That is mighty fine artwork, Goodwoman Samira."

Gael makes a face upon hearing Korka's conclusion, one that he directs at the ceiling... as though he'd wean answers off of it. "I have feelings," the rogue-like man protests, although there's an intrinsic lack of effervescence in each chosen vowel. "They're just, eh, somewhere. In there," wherever that is. In the end, Gael decides to pluck a bottle of rum straight off of the counter, bothering not with a lowball and studying its label. Once more, his nose crunches and eyes narrow with disdain. "Tis' all we brought?" He asks, surveying the rest of the table with contrition.

Mimi's acknowledgement is met with a light upnod in return along with a curl of lips and a playful wink. Medeia's reaction however seems to draw her attention and she lifts her brow slightly as she seems to seek what happened to make her turn tide to such a state. She purses her lips a moment as she embraces Samira and the redhead seems to stand down, hand slipping a little further down the hilt of the blade worn slung low upon her hip.

Ophelia nods after Rowley explains his latest work of art in the making. "I suppose you'll know when the muse strikes, yes?" She's not one to paint much anymore and casts a wistful look at the art upon the walls for a brief moment. She also spots Niklas across the way and gives the Grayson prince a friendly little wave before returning her focus to the priest at her side. "I happened upon his shop just the other day and managed to collect a mobile, too." Her attention falls to Sunniva again and she smiles softly. "That's quite alright, Marquessa. I'm afraid I cannot stay very late either."

"Prince Niklas, patron of my patron," Samira calls as she spots the Grayson prince among the crowd. She lifts a hand in a wave of greeting, intending to head his way. Intercepting Medeia as she walks, she returns the hug with an easy sort of familiarity. "Thank you! I hope people continue to come after today and that they find it an inviting place to be. I'm so glad you came." Her dark eyes shift toward Rowenova, a grateful look sent toward the other woman. "I appreciate your saying so. I hope anyone who comes might feel inspired to create their own."

Insaya is making a tiny little cream-pot and lid that fit in her palm, and chatting. "Still waters run deep. Still waters are puddles too. You can never tell with some people. Mercier!" she suddenly exclaims, and raises a hand to flag him down as the attorney makes an entrance.

Raphael does his best to dampen the grin that threatened to bloom on his face, making his way over towards Insaya with both hands pocketed away in his jacket, "Miss Bergere, what a pleasant surprise to see you hear."

Samira hasn't forgotten Mimi's words, even amidst the hubbub of the crowded art center. As she pulls back from Medeia's hug, her attention returns to her fellow artist, her expression momentarily solemn. "True friends aren't always easy to find. They're ones to cherish. I'd love to meet you again soon to hear more and to talk about your art."

Niklas gives Iphelia a brilliant smilde and a quick sketch of a bow, though there for a second he almost looks, just a touch, a little bit, kinda sorta sad, but then it goes away and he looks to Samira. "Yes! My grand-protege! I feel like I should give you some candy. You've a lovely collection here."

"I did not bring a cow. You'll have to wait for the Ball to see a few more. Or, you could always come by the manor and visit the barn." Michael's hands unclasp and he'll shift about as people pass around him. "I was unaware it was going to be so busy, Prince Niklas. Is this your fault? Or the owner's?"

"Well - I am hoping to have an exhibition for Brother Rowley, some day soon - for his art, and his jewelry. I do hope you will attend?" Not that Sunniva actually expects an answer to that right now, amidst everything else that is happening. The growing crowd catches Sunniva's attention for a long moment before she offers a light smile to both Ophelia and Rowley. "Actually; it seems that I may slip out now, after I speak with the hostess momentarily. If you'll excuse me."

"I'll be back, soon," Medeia promises Samira and breaks away to find Michael, quickly making her way back to his side and draping her hand around his elbow. She wipes at one last stray tear as she realizes Michael was talking to Prince NIklas about cows. "Cows? At a ball?" She looks around and nods. "It is quite busy, perhaps we should go."

Gael wades through the crowd with a subtle, but dejected loop of shoulders, one instilled perhaps by Insaya's surreptitious moment of wisdom. In his hand is a bottle, it's rum, but the cork's yet labeled and it remains unopened. Soon, he very purposefully finds Acacia's side and holds out the narrow-necked container towards her. "Here, I know you're the rum type and maybe art's not your thing but, alcohol never let us down, yeah?"

1 Saik Guard, Michael leave, following Medeia.

While waiting on the suggestion, Caprice cheerfully finishes her drink and drifts ever closer to the communal wall, pausing to collect a few blue pigments en route.

Since no one has taken time to even stop her, Nova finishes levelling off the interior partitions of her togo box by pressing down the food inside with the convex back of a silver spoon. After really packing it, the togo box is then strapped shut and slid away into her Messenger Bag with a cheeky grin before picking up a couple plates for her own enjoyment right now. One along her rightside forearm and one upon the hand on the same side. As a ducal servant, the scouty lass can easily balance both. Her left hand flings downward before there is a sudden fork which slides out from her forearm guard and which the scouty lass easily catches. She deftly spins the newly-acquired utensil in Samira's direction. "Most welcome." With Sir Floppington, she now migrates to quietly peruse the various pieces, doing so whilst slowly eating party food.

Acacia's grin grows lightly and the curvy leather-clad Lowers lass laughs with a soft purr as she accepts Gael's offering. "Even if I where not I'd not be rude enough to snub you. You're practically family," she teases as she takes a sip and passes it back with a quiet "amen."

Samira waves to Medeia as the woman departs, then turns back to the Grayson. "I would likely never turn down candy," Samira notes to Niklas as if this is important information to divulge, a small grin accompanying her admission. "Thank you for saying so, and for coming to visit. I hope it's a place people can enjoy." Her gaze sweeps over the surroundings and those still gathered, her grin softening as she spots Acacia and Gael off to the side.

"Well, no one expects the Inquisition," Insaya says with a lift of her shoulders. "Unless someone's stolen something, or is dead, or... okay there are some very specific circumstances where Inquisitors turn up, just none of them are very pleasant." She gestures and says, "Have you met my compatriots? Confessor Gael, Inquisitor Korka, this is Raphael Mercier. Over there, the proprietor, miss Samira. And there, with the pooch, Rowenova, the scout?"

5 Silvershields have been dismissed.

Jeeves, a sophisticated valet have been dismissed.

Nova skillfully spins her fork to Raphael Mercier. "Good to meet you." says the scout with the pooch.

Gael waves a dismissive right hand for Acacia's return, following it with an affable; "No, no, no- keep it. Me and rum don't get along, shit's too sweet for me," he says, information shared the whole of two times with this Culler in particular. "All this people, huh?" He comments after, Gael's voice with a direct allusion to the massive crowd all around where his eyes now roam. "And she's dealing with it great. Your sister's badass, Acacia," the Confessor adds, bundling a fist to 'bump' the Culler gently on the shoulder with. Once Insaya peels his attention aside, he eyes Raphael in a one-over and perks a polite smile, leaning down with a half-bow. "Insaya is my superior, we usually intervene in each other's work. Inquisitor Korka... well, she intervenes in ours."

Offering a nod of his head toward Sunniva as she makes to excuse herself, it is likely clear to both women that Rowley himself is finding himself a little overloaded with the press of people that have turned up for the event. Rather than becoming more social, the Priest has more or less gotten quiet and seems to be distracted from the conversation as his eyes flit one to another. When Sunniva makes her way off, Rowley offers an apologetic glance toward Ophelia and murmurs something.

"I may add a few more to that list, Inquisitor Bergere. However I will keep that in mind, hullo all. Pleased to meet you." The young lawyer bowed politely to the assembled people, "Hullo!" He greeted Nova with a smile while glancing over towards Gael, "Ah, I am aware of some of that work, being an attorney, but I can't say I share in the risks that you all undertake."

Korka nods to Raphael as she's introduced, sharp eyes giving him a quick once-over, "It's true. I'm very obnoxious."

Merek makes a way into the place to look at it in full, his cloak adjusted about him.

Acacia smirks up at the large man beside her, the playful punch to her harm met with a slyer grin and she nods as she turns back to watch the woman. "Aye, she is. That and more. She'll go far, this one. Talent to spare and a good heart, too," the woman offers back approvingly, her arms folding loosely across her chest. "We're proud of the lass. Always have been. Always will."

Ophelia appreciates the sketch and gives Niklas a small smile in return. Perhaps she caught that teenie bit of sadness. Perhaps she knows why. Either way, she sweeps her focus to Sunniva and dips into a quick curtsy. "Of course, Marquessa. It was so nice to meet you." Leaning slightly closer to Rowley, she murmurs to him before pivoting toward the door.

Nova slowly meanders to draw closer to the conversational circle which is apparently forming around the young lawyer. Sir Floppington follows along and momentarily sniffs at the proximal air. Nova curiously inquires, "An attorney, eh? Have you ever had to defend the Mercier shop?"

Insaya puts the little pot on the table to dry. "We're pretty egalitarian opportunity botherers, I think," Insaya defends. Toward Nova, she huffs a laugh, "Which? The bottling operation? The shelter? Mistress Bethany's tea room? I think there's a lab, too?" She says to Gael aside, "They have LAWN ORNAMENTS."

Offering a nod toward Ophelia, Rowley glances around the space and offers a wave toward those he knows before he too heads for the door.

Nova ohs, "Well, any of those!" says she to Insaya. "They have a lab, though?"

"I think we should toast to Sam's success. She's worked hard for this," Acacia says aside to Gael as she steps forward and gives a sharp whistle and waits. "If I may have a moment of your time," the curvy Culler calls out and waits for people to settle. "I'll give you time to get your glasses fill because I think this fine place and the lass who brought it to life deserves a toast in her honour."

She waits for those who wish to join to get a glass before continuing. When the room settles again she smiles to Samira with unabashed pride and holds up her glass to Samira. "Good folk, nobles and lovers of rabble, to a lass with passion and talent to spare, and pride in her people. To an artist who sees beauty were others see bleak and a leader who invites others to share their voices and talents unselfishly. To Samira Culler and her Rabble Art, my both bring new voices, passion, artistry and vision to Arx."

Acacia is overheard praising Samira: Inspiring as an artist and leader for the community. A fine success in bringing more art to Arx. Bravo!

"No, I haven't had reason to, thankfully." Raphael rubbed his chin, "Actually, now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever actually defended a family member, I mostly do promo-bono work these days."

"It's not very risky. For her, at least," Gael answers Raphael, his chin propped up in Insaya's direction in a subtle motion. "All she does is write things on paper, do so in a format in which she sounds smarter than she is, and when we're out on the field? Hide behind me." His tone hides a tease, but it's subtle and gruff enough to appear as disgruntlement. And then, Acacia's proclamation steals his attention, and quickly Gael steals some random passerby's glass of beer to hold it for himself up in the air, adding to the toast. "To Samira Culler, and to all the future youth that'll come use her fine center as an escape from the woes of the day."

2 House Velenosa Guards, Robyn, an artful archeress, Sir Harrier, a hunting hawk leave, following Ophelia.

Raphael laughed, "Well, that being the case, I have your good-health to pray for moving forwards, Confessor Gael."

Samira turns from her current conversation as Acacia's voice cuts through the din of the crowd. Surprise flickers across her features, the artist sending a fond smile toward her fellow Culler as she mouths a silent thank you for the kind words. Feeling self-conscious, she plucks a glass from the table and lifts it, seizing upon the last part of Gael's toast - the part which does not include her. "And to the youth!"

Mimi is overheard praising Samira.

Insaya is bright-eyed as she says acerbicly, "I don't have to sound smarter than I am, Gael. I just have to sound smarter, and run fasster than -you-." But its said fondly, and in a way that suggests she does neither. "Saved my fool life," she volunteers for Raphael's benefit. With a hastily gathered cup, she raises her cup in response. "Samira, and the knee-biters," she says jovially. "Where's your man got to, Nova?"

"To the youth!" Acacia calls out in salute to any other artists that may be present and part of Samira's community efforts. The drink is tossed back and the glass set down and a breath flows free again. "It's things like this. I think maybe things would be different if we had more of this. Like Torian's school. More options for them to learn a trade or become an artist or artisan. Who knows what path we'll set someone one with this kind of thing. She's done well," she says aside with a wry grin Insaya's way as she teases Gael back.

Nova motions forth to the northwestish direction, "He guards the House estate, and so he is doing good work right now." She flips her fork over in her hand before reaching back and tapping the Messenger Bag behind her which has the togo box of wooden quality inside. "I made sure to pack party food for him, though!"