faderift | open | the drunk horn's so violent, all spinning out sound

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: SATINALIA
WHEN: Firstfall 1
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Party hard, use content warnings, move explicit content to inboxes.

Named for Satina, the smaller of Thedas' two moons, Satinalia is a celebration of freedom, marked by wild celebration, pranks, the donning of costumes and masks -- not the fine, delicate masks of Orlais, but animals and caricatures and playful horrors -- and the exchange of gifts both sincere and satirical. There's also the crowning of a Fool to rule for the day, or two Fools, in this case: Iskandar and Valentine are given crowns and the right to issue orders. Non-military orders. Unless they manage to start some kind of battle between their imaginary kingdoms.

Elsewhere in Thedas, the festivities may last a week. At Skyhold, no one can pause the war for that long. But all those who can be spared are released by late afternoon, given the night and the next morning -- handle those hangovers before reporting back to work please -- to enjoy the celebration in the fortress or the even less restrained revelries in the valley.

This day was originally a celebration of Zazikel, the Old God of Chaos, but let's not dwell on that.

SKYHOLD

Tables in the Great Hall are piled high with several whole roasted tuskets, meats thinly sliced in the Orlesian style, a tower of cheeses and candied fruits, and great bowls of Antivan pasta with brightly colored sauces. Casks of ale and wine are tapped, emptied, and replaced to keep a near constant stream of alcohol flowing, only improving the efforts of a trio of bards in the corner playing music that's spirited but still easy to speak over. An area near them has been cleared for entertainers: a small troupe of exceptionally limber acrobats tossing and climbing each other in increasingly impressive shapes, and then a team of dancers, romantic and expressive, performing a piece made famous in the theaters of Val Royeaux.

Even once the entertainers finish and leave space for the guests to dance, the party remains more on the sedate side. The celebration indoors is meant to impress and entertain visiting dignitaries and nobles: others are welcome to assist with the schmoozing, but anyone too rowdy or otherwise controversial will be asked politely to relocate, and no one who looks even slightly mischievous or inebriated is permitted into the gardens or library or other easily-damaged areas of the fortress.

The courtyard is noisier. The sparring rings and archery targets are claimed for contests of strength and skill made intentionally ridiculous: soldiers fighting in costume with raw fish as weapons or their hands tied behind their backs, training dummies dressed in discarded finery, an archer capable of standing on her hands and shooting with her feet who's happy to give demonstrations. As the light fades the play-fighting does as well, replaced by music and dancing, with the way lit by braziers and candles and glowlights from Orlais strung in the trees and along the walls.

After midnight, the celebrations within the walls taper off. Some people need to sleep. But those who don't may make the journey down the path and into the valley.

THE VALLEY

In the valley, there's no one to say shush. The party starts early and runs late enough to be early all over again. The food is less fine -- stew and bread, cider and ale, some barrels of young wine and rough liquor gifted by the quartermaster from a mistaken shipment. For anything nicer than that you'll have to bring your own or charm someone who has, but plenty have brought out their carefully hoarded stocks tonight. Flasks of rum from Rivain or treacle-sweet wine from Antiva, tiny boxes of candies and chocolates, small pouches of smokeable herbs: there isn't much of anything but there's a little of everything, all available for the price of a well-played trick or well-placed kiss.

Tonight instead of the usual spattering of camp- and cook-fires, the camp is lit by torches and roaring bonfires, the entire valley caught in the shifting, flickering firelight. Shadows flare and twist, flames limn masked faces in gold and orange and red, and the constant crackle and spark provides its own accompaniment to the music. Fiddles and drums pound and wail, spinning dancers faster and faster, whether big circles of linked hands tugging each other round and round the fire, or a crush of couples, each clasping and spinning and catching and pressing close again. Some duck into shadows, clutched together out of sight until the wind changes and shadows shift, revealing some and concealing others.

There are games down here, too: knives and axes and arrows aimed at hay bale targets, circles marked out with rope for grappling or boxing rings, a bizarre struggled over a greased pumpkin, even pairs growling across tables as they arm-wrestle. The prizes are mostly just the cheers of a wildly enthusiastic crowd and maybe a half bottle of stolen brandy, but there are plenty of challengers all the same and plenty willing to bet on the outcome. The Inquisition is a truly motley assortment, and scattered around are plenty showing off their skills, from juggling to firebreathing to telling fortunes. Instruments from a half-dozen countries can be heard, and small groups clustered around dry patches of ground or upturned crates roll dice and deal cards two dozen different ways.

Unlike up at the keep, this party takes a little while to ramp up, as more and more people finish their shifts and make their way down to join, and it only gets louder as the hour grows late. There haven't been many chances to let loose since all this began, and Maker knows they've all been under plenty of stress. Loud laughter and singing and music continue well into the wee hours, and the crowd only finally thins out several hours past midnight, with a hardy (or foolhardy) core still just stumbling home at dawn.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

One of the crowned Fools was greatly enjoying himself and took notice of the young woman at one point. Not only was she lovely to look upon but she happened to be having quite the time of her life. So even though he towered over her, he went right over with a large smile on his face as he held out his hand to her.

"Might this King of Fools get a dance with you? Of course you will have to teach me the steps of this land but I learn very quickly, I promise."

Bethany looked up, and up again, to the large redheaded man. When she finally managed to reach his face, she beamed at him, before holding out her hand. "Why your Majesty, I would be delighted. The steps are simple, but fast, so just keep your eye on me, and you should be all right."

She did a little flounce, smiling warmly, "And I am Bethany, serah."

"I doubt I could take my eyes off someone as lovely as you so I should do rather well." He laughed as he took her hand to let her lead him through this. That smile did beautiful things for her features that he took a second to admire before he paused a second to memorize her name. Bethany. He liked the sound of that!

"I am Iskandar. It is an honor to meet you this night, Bethany."

"Well aren't you charming?" She dimpled again, and took him to the open space where other people were already dancing. She curtsied once, smiling brightly.

"Iskandar! What a wonderful name." She started the twist and twirl of the first steps.

He'd at least picked up on how to bow properly in these lands so he did that now before starting to follow her through the steps, smiling the entire time. Perhaps he wasn't perfect at the start but he clearly had an ear for music and was doing rather well keeping up with things.

"As is Bethany! It is a name that makes me think of sunlight!"

She swirled around him with the right amount of grace for someone who swirls around with a staff most days, laughing with delight as he kept up with her. She had to adjust herself only slightly, but honestly that was half the fun, finding the rhythm you could share with your partner.

"Well, perhaps that is why my nickname is Sunshine, then?" She spun around him, smiling once more.

"Is it? Good! It suits you well!"

He laughed then because he hadn't ever heard of nicknaming someone Sunshine. In this case though he could tell that it suited her well. That smile just lit up the space around them which delighted him to no end. When it seemed that so many here suffered he was pleased to see anyone still remembering what it was to smile. In his eyes that would be what saved the world. The warmth brought in by a warm smile.

"I shall tell Varric you approve!"

She beamed at him. taking him by the hands to spin him around during the next part of the dance. It felt good to laugh with someone, even if it was a stranger. It reminded her that no matter how dark things might seem, she just had to keep her chin up, and try to bring some light into the world. Grey Warden or no, right now they needed hope and laughing more than they needed gold.

"I know not who this Varric is but I like him already if he is the one who bestowed so fine a name on you!"

Given his height, the spin was a challenge but it was clear he was used to working with how huge he was. Enough so that he easily managed it with a nice laugh to go along with it. This was a man with a smile on his face in even the darkest of times, finding something good in shadows no matter what. "Sometime I should teach someone here the music of my homeland so I can teach you one of the dances of it!"

"He is one of my dearest friends - and the best friend of my older sister! You would like her too."

She dimpled as she twirled around him, enjoying the laugh and the smile. Frankly, this man was her kind of people, able to bring light into the darkest corners. "Oh, that would be delightful. Are they slow or fast?"

She flounced again, and clapped her hands in time.

"That all depends on the music. We have some for both!"

He laughed at her eagerness to learn the dances of his culture. Perhaps the dances of the cultures from some of his people as well. Those were certainly very different but still just as fun. He had a feeling she would like them as well.

"Maybe I will just sing for us sometime so we can simply have music that way!"

"Then we shall dance to both!"

She beamed brightly as they spun around one another, flouncing her skirts appropriately. Both eyebrows lifted up.

"You dance as well?"

"I sing and I play music as well! I would write plenty a song in my day."

He did his own turn, turning back to her as he clapped his hands.

"I hope to get a harp or lyre so I might play again here."

"You could actually write your own music?"

She nearly paused, before she laughed.

"And you can play the lyre?"

"I can do both of these things! I would show you how I play the lyre but I do not happen to have one on hand."

He would have to fix that rather soon though. He was missing it!

"Well, you are quite the clever gentleman, serah." She beamed at him, taking him as the hand again to spin him around to the left, and then to the right.

He couldn't help but to laugh at the compliment he was given. "I have been called that one and foolish as well. I suppose that I should since I do wear the crown of the Fool!"

open | the drunk horn's so violent, all spinning out sound

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