Drinks: Lancelot has dressed up for the occasion. He does not particularly know Gilbert Norrell, but he is a member of Daybreak and he would not wish to snub the celebration of a victory for his own faction -- especially when they have had a loss too. He's neatly turned out in a three piece suit, even if the bow tie feels a little silly on him, hair timed as best it can.
Lancelot, however, is not drinking. This feels like the perfect target for someone upset with Daybreak, and with Night Council members invited too he feels a little as if he might be on call. So he sips at ginger beer, smiles at people who approach him and leans in to make quiet observations about everyone around them or a light joke. Anyone in danger of being a nervous wallflower he'll approach to talk to, gently coax out if he can.
Meal: Political conversation is not something Lancelot enjoys. It's all a little heavy for him, and especially with Gilbert Norrell's man -- very righteous and affronted. It's tiring, and he can't help jerking an eyebrow on occasion and shooting sideways glances at the people either side of him.
"The food's good," he says brightly, for something else to talk about, setting down his cutlery to take a sip of water for a moment. He's still not drinking. "How's yours?"
After: A few people, Lancelot notices, have drunk more than a little too much. He's suppressing a smile as he watches them, still on the water himself -- moving to help one member carefully out of the building to their taxi and into it so they don't trip and land face first on the pavement.
At least they enjoyed themselves, he supposes.
Padding back inside he pauses to chat to a few people, bow-tie finally undone and left draped around his collar (much more comfortable) -- debating if he should join one of the card games. He's bound to lose money, he's sure of it.
Other: [ Else, if nothing fits invent your own prompt! ]
[ OPEN ]
Lancelot has dressed up for the occasion. He does not particularly know Gilbert Norrell, but he is a member of Daybreak and he would not wish to snub the celebration of a victory for his own faction -- especially when they have had a loss too. He's neatly turned out in a three piece suit, even if the bow tie feels a little silly on him, hair timed as best it can.
Lancelot, however, is not drinking. This feels like the perfect target for someone upset with Daybreak, and with Night Council members invited too he feels a little as if he might be on call. So he sips at ginger beer, smiles at people who approach him and leans in to make quiet observations about everyone around them or a light joke. Anyone in danger of being a nervous wallflower he'll approach to talk to, gently coax out if he can.
Meal:
Political conversation is not something Lancelot enjoys. It's all a little heavy for him, and especially with Gilbert Norrell's man -- very righteous and affronted. It's tiring, and he can't help jerking an eyebrow on occasion and shooting sideways glances at the people either side of him.
"The food's good," he says brightly, for something else to talk about, setting down his cutlery to take a sip of water for a moment. He's still not drinking. "How's yours?"
After:
A few people, Lancelot notices, have drunk more than a little too much. He's suppressing a smile as he watches them, still on the water himself -- moving to help one member carefully out of the building to their taxi and into it so they don't trip and land face first on the pavement.
At least they enjoyed themselves, he supposes.
Padding back inside he pauses to chat to a few people, bow-tie finally undone and left draped around his collar (much more comfortable) -- debating if he should join one of the card games. He's bound to lose money, he's sure of it.
Other:
[ Else, if nothing fits invent your own prompt! ]