Corsairs and Corsets RPG

[Sophia the Thunder Mistress]

The morning of Pelien's Luncheon

Tíriel rose early the next morning, throwing open the curtains on the tall windows in her sisters bedchamber. The light fell in a long golden rectangle across Síriel's sleeping face, making her look younger than she was, her dark eyelashes curled on her cheeks. Tíriel smiled at her, before throwing open the balcony doors and stepping out onto the small platform. The balcony overlooked a private garden, and Tíriel stood there a moment, watching the sunrise over the city before she returned inside.

Síriel's once peaceful face was now twisted with annoyance and she'd thrown one arm over her eyes. "Tír, the light... 's too early." she muttered with great irritation, before pulling the bedsheet up over her face and working her way back down into the covers.

"'Course not." Tíriel replied, matter of factly, yanking the covers down leaving Síriel sullenly laying on the bed, her shift worked up around her thighs and her dark hair straggling loose across the pillow. The scowl on her face perfected the picture of a spoiled little girl. Giggling fondly, Tíriel threw herself on top of her younger sister, tickling her until she squirmed. So hard she squirmed, that she slipped over the edge of the bed and sprawled on the floor. Tíriel peered over the edge of the matress, expecting to find her sister in a raging temper. But the face that greeted her was laughing, and Síriel's grey eyes sparkled with fun.

Picking herself up off the floor, she smoothed her rumpled shift and gave Tíriel a stern glance. "If we don't hurry up, missy, we certainly won't be ready in time for that luncheon." She moved haughtily to the wardrobe and flung open the doors.

Bounding up from the bed, Tíriel laughed, "You brat." Stalking idignantly, she went into the washroom and began brushing her long hair out.
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One gloved hand politely rapped at the door of Pelien and Sador's townhouse. Síriel stood back from the step as Tíriel of the perfect manners moved forward to greet their hostess. Following her lead, Tiriel stepped forward and kissed Pelien on the cheek, before following Tíriel into the parlor.

Pelien buzzed about the house importantly, tossing off lines of politely rehearsed small talk, while her daughter Adrama sat in the parlor beaming sunnily and looking positively gorgeous. Síriel was fond of the girl, but she thought more color would suit her better. She seemed to follow Tíriel's rule of wearing mostly creams and greys. The two in fact, were dressed much alike this morning, Adrama in cream and black, and Tír in pearly grey and black. Síriel flattered herself that not every complexion could pull off the deep gold of her gown. She had chosen the gown specially, as it was a color and cut that neither Finduilas or Lady Dryea would ever be able to wear. It never hurt to stay far ahead of the competition, she thought idly, as she sipped a first cup of tea and played idly with the beaded fringe on her purse.