Fixing things...again ((Open RP, Great Hall))

[sir_knits_a_lot]

There had been mayhem. A disaster in public relations, to say the least. And, the Maoh was involved. This served to make it Gwendal's responsibility to make amends and smooth things over again

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[beets_r_god]

Seeing the sign, Dwight marched through the door and over to where Gwendal sat.

"Question: What form will these reparations take?" he demanded.

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal looked up, a bit surprised at the directness of the question though his face remained impassive. "As with all reparations, the degree of them will be equal to the degree of the insult."

[beets_r_god]

Dwight was still glowering, though slightly less so since it seemed Gwendal might be reasonable.

"I was changed into an infantile purple creature," Dwight stated. "And there was a... woman... who was walking around being me, only without any clothes on. And the potion was being served by a minor. I think if said minor were to do some community service, that would go a lng way toward reparations, although first I should ascertain the location of his drug lab so that it can be put to more productive, less chaos-making uses."

[sir_knits_a_lot]

"The minor was under the impression he was performing some type of good deed," Gwendal tried to explain patiently. "If he believed ill would befall those to whom he extended invitations, he would not have invited them." Gwendal believes this partially because he must. "Your form seems to have returned to you," he said patiently.

[righteous_pen]

"You were responsible for that - incident? And I thought it was punch, not fondue."

Admittedly some of the 'punch' had looked rather dubious, although not the glass Mikami had drunk from, but it hadn't looked remotely like fondue.

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal frowned slightly. "More that it is my duty to make reparations," he replied. "What it was, however, depends on the one you ask. The chef believed it to be fondue." He smoothed out his face. "Were you impacted by the intoxicant?" he asked.

[righteous_pen]

"I see." He looked slightly less disapproving. "I was, yes, and so was an... associate of mine. I'm not certain what his opinion on the matter is, though."

Light hadn't seemed to mind as much. Then again, he hadn't been hugged by Beowulf.

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal nodded. "If you don't mind, since I was not in attendance and only found out after the fact, could you tell me what happened?"

[darkwithoutme]

Light makes his way into the Great Hall after recieving Mikami's owl. Nothing horrible happened at the party (he wasn't hugged by Beowulf or turned into someone who was ugly), but he'd still like to know who made the potion.

Moving over to the table Gwendal sat at, Light says, "How are you involved with what happened at the Halloween Party?"

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal struggles not to make a face. "The party was promoted by one to whom I am duty bound." He didn't think it would be extremely politic to bring up that he was one of ten lords who served the Maoh and that his particular position basically made him 'Secretary of State,' as it were. Not that the way he phrased it made it any better.

[darkwithoutme]

"Did Yuuri know about the effects of the potion or was he just being nice by handing it out?" most likely just being nice, but might as well be sure if he's talking to the demon king's servant.

[sir_knits_a_lot]

"I would venture the opinion that he believed it to be safe, or rather that he did not try it." That would make sense, even if it made the whole conversation even more uncomfortable. "Regardless, he promoted it, therefore it falls to me to attempt reparations."

[waltorana]

Well, well, what had we here?

"Lord von Voltaire." The dapper Bielefeld lord strode manfully to the table. "Do you mean to practice a policy of appeasement toward the humans?!"

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal frowned. "I mean to practice the art of making appeasement to those who may have been harmed by an event that the Maoh promoted, regardless of whether they are human or demon, as has been the policy under the current Maoh," Gwendal replied somewhat stiffly.

[waltorana]

"The humans should be grateful that the Maou cares to grace them with his presence." Waltorana made a supercilious sniffing sound. It was like a mini-hmph at a lighter pitch. "It's true that his maryoku is not as controlled as it should be, but whatever he destroys here cannot be so important as to require Mazoku to apologize!"

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal arched an eyebrow. "Do you wish to inform the Maoh that his foreign policy is incorrect?" he asked, his tone cool. "I should like to be present when you did."

[iam_beowulf]

Seeing many Beowulfs had propelled the original Beowulf into a full-blown identity crisis. The Tarvunty could only do so much, and Beowulf was having a hard time pronouncing the words of Tarvu's Prayer.

Gwendal's offer came as a welcome alternative, once the Geat had deciphered the sign on the door.

"I AM HERE TO BE REPAIRED," he rumbled.

[sir_knits_a_lot]

Gwendal manged not to wince at the volume. He did have Wolfram for comparison, after all. He looked up, slightly surprised at how tall the one across from him was. He had thought Wolfram-type volume was to make up for Wolfram-type height. "How would you wish to be repaired?" he asked calmly.

[iam_beowulf]

Beowulf grimaced. Thinking was hard to do. "I HAVE LOST MYSELF," he tried to explain. "THERE WERE MANY OF ME. I HUGGED ME. I ARMWRESTLED ME. THEN I GREW BREASTS AND WINGS. THE BREASTS WERE WORSE THAN THE WINGS."

He had hardly noticed the wings.

"WHAT MAKES ME MYSELF? I KNOW I AM BEOWULF!"

[sir_knits_a_lot]

An identity crisis was not high on Gwendal's list of skills. Slowly, he explained, "There was a food-like substance in the great hall that caused people to take on the appearance of others. It did not change who they were, only what they looked like." He thought this might be a little too complex, but it was worth a try.