Nous rents out a room at a joint that serves microbrews and promises to have a dart board. It's a dark and dingy room, with hightop tables surrounded by barstools. It smells faintly of beer and fried food, which is good considering they're both on the menu. She sent out a few invitations for this little soirée, and while she's not hosting it in the greenhouse, she's at least picking up the tab for the night.
She wears something that will hopefully not intimidate anyone. Normal clothes like. She knows how it can be when you walk with a title. Annoying to get to know people apparently. Titles are chains to strap you into a certain mold. A certain idea of who you're supposed to be. It blows.
It's also why she's drinking a beer, and has a plate of fried cheese curds in front of her while she waits. Because expectations need to be shattered. She just hopes that people show up in response to her invitation.