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In the end, it's Jonathan's mad attempt to bring himself closer to Arabella that foists him forward into a mad arrangement of lights, music, people! He knows that sanity lingers just out of mind and that he will have to capture it back, but once he travels once more on this strange road (through a door and not a mirror), he thinks that if he cannot bring himself to Arabella, perhaps he can bring the fairy folk to him.

Jonathan Strange will host a party so luxurious and wonderful that they have no choice but to attend.

He uses magic to deck the lobby of the hotel with shimmering lights and stars that hang upon the ceiling in constellations and patterns that cannot possibly exist. Food dots each corner, but if the eye were to catch it properly, it would be noted that it's slightly off. The drink, however, is exact in its sumptuous rich red tones and sparkling vivacious notes.

Best of all, there is the music.

Harps and lutes and violins accompany the piano and encourage those to dance. More than that, the spell that Jonathan weaves ensures that all who pass the lobby feel the need to mingle and dance, not allowing for anyone to dawdle.

Arabella will come to him now. He knows it. He must only wait.

And there will be a party to maintain until then.

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Chiana shrugs, the move a little too exaggerated by human standards. "It's good." Does it matter what it was supposed to be? "Don't Fairies like - cheese?"

"I don't really know what they like, besides kidnapping my wife and keeping her from me," Strange remarks, his words even and sharp as he regards this odd creature before him. "I thought perhaps rich foods, the stuff of kings."

"I don't know about kings," Chiana told him, head tilted to the side, "but this is good enough." She finishes the rest of it, and nods at the spread of food and drinks. "Did you do all this?"

"Through the will and determination of my magic, yes," he agrees, taking credit for the feat with a graceful bow of his body. He's had to tap into any number of spells that would likely have Norrell's head spinning, but he will do anything in order to fetch his wife back to him.

Chiana's never sure what any culture means by magic, but since he looks human, and probably is, she's going to go with what Jaenelle can do. "Well, it's a great party," Chiana remarks. "I hope it gets you your wife back."

She still thinks he's a little fahrbot, but she doesn't mind, as long as he isn't the dangerous sort of fahrbot. Not to her, anyway.

He keeps his hopes up, but the more he looks around and search for women, none of them are Arabella. That's a problem, which means that he's expended a great deal of energy and manipulated the universe and what is it all for? Nothing, yet.

"Do you like to eat anything in particular?"

Chiana grins, a little sharply. "Nothing you'd know. Wait, no. I love your, em. Pad Thai?" That was definitely human. "And curry! I like curry."

He blinks, having heard of curry of course, but not in recent days. He doesn't quite remember what it tastes like, though he can try. He turns to one of the dishes and narrows his eyes as he mutters under his breath and begins to attempt to bring out the spices she's mentioned.

When through, he holds it out to her and waits expectantly. "I'm fairly sure it's not poisonous."

"You're one weird human," Chiana states, and picks up a piece of meat between thumb and forefinger, because she likes to live dangerously. She eats it and licks the sauce off her fingers. "It's good! A bit mild."

"I'm Jonathan Strange," is his reply. "I believe being odd is practically god-given, inherited by the name," he says, though his madness is only a recent thing and brought on by desperate times. "I'm afraid I haven't had any curry in a very long time. The fact that it's edible is an accomplishment enough."

"Congratulations, then," Chiana tells him with a grin, and grabs the dish from him.

It might not be spicy enough for her taste, but she's still going to enjoy it.

Strange raises his brow as he watches her take the dish from him, feeling a disappointed echo in her praise. He's done an excellent job of course, but it still hasn't brought Arabella to him. She is still out there, out there with some gentleman that is keeping her from him. "You should dance," he coaxes. "The music is particularly coaxing."

"It's all right," Chiana somewhat agrees, after swallowing another bite of mild curry. Her tastes in music are more raw, more brutal. "I like the food better," she adds with a quick, sharp grin.

"They're both enchanted, but you should still feel a want to dance," he says with a frown, wondering if he's somehow managed to muck it all up and divert the energy in his new creation.

"I... do," Chiana replied with a frown, which didn't change the fact that she wanted to eat more. "Wait, your magic's making me want to dance?"

"Only a little," he confesses. "It's meant to draw out those who enjoy such songs and tunes, so they will come out of the roads and come to this party. It has a similar effect on mortals of all walks of life, I'm afraid."

"Mortals," Chiana echoes, looking doubtful. Each time she thinks he's not that fahrbot... "Well, I'll dance when I want to because I want to."

It takes a little focus, but he works to create an isolated spot around her that won't let the music impact her. With a nod of his head, he gives her an encouraging look. "There. It should be gone, now, so the effects will be minimal to null."

Chiana takes a second to assess how she feels, and then she nods. "Thanks, Strange Man."

He steps back to provide an elaborate bow, thinking that perhaps he is as strange as his name would indicate. "My pleasure, strange girl. You never gave me your name," he points out.

Chiana grins again, sharp but a little longer now, like he's worth keeping the smile going. "Chiana."

"Ah, but you have the name and the look of a fairy," he says, no longer suspicious but teasing. "How can you doubt that I had mistaken you for one, then?"

"Maybe Fairies have the names and looks of Nebari," Chiana shoots back, before eating some more curry.

"Do you have them where you come from, then?" Jonathan wonders, thinking that perhaps she would have some sort of inclination or tips as to how he can do his spells better to attract them. "Should I make more curry?"

"If you want other people to have some," Chiana replied, absolutely shameless about eating the entire dish herself. She was skinny, but she ate a lot. She ate another bit before answering his first question. "We got lots of different peoples where I'm from. I've never met a Fairy, but we might. I'd never met an Earthan before ending up here," she added with a shrug.

"I've never been called an Earthan before. I'm English," he says, wondering what on earth ... oh, there it is. How clever! Strange refrains from giggling, but that's the madness at play. He's much more in control than that, normally. "Well, do you wish to eat more of it?"

"I'd rather sample what else you've got," Chiana answers, dark eyes bright. She loves discovering new things, after all, and sets the curry down before turning her smile on Strange, hips swaying the way they usually do. "Anything else you need me to taste?"

"Well, there was a caramel cookie that I think might be starting to absorb the flavour of the mint pie beside it," he says, thinking that his magic may be leaking, so to speak, and infecting everything around it.

Chiana doesn't really know what mint is, although she's learned about caramel - and she loves it. She grins at Strange. "Point me to it."

He directs her to the table that seems to be wafting a strange light green aura around it, like a magical thing that wants to be known. It's not supposed to be doing that, is his first critical thought. "There we are. It should taste fine. Maybe a little too flavourful."

Chiana bit into the cookie, then ate the rest of it enthusiastically. "Crank it," she says, on the same tone one might say an incredulous 'shut up', "it's great!"

"What's that mean?" Strange asks, wishing for a quill and parchment in order to write down some of the oddities that Chiana is saying. "Crank...? Does it have a particular meaning that I should be using it in context with?"

Chiana is surprised by the question; do his translator microbes not work correctly? "You crank things, with a screwdriver?" she offers, then shrugs. "Or in that case, you stop saying ridiculous things."

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