[OPEN] Throw some glitter;

[faithstarved]

WHO: Andra, the Surviving Sparrows, and anyone who wants to PARTAY
WHAT: That party that was supposed to happen a month ago let's just pretend the fliers said beginning of this month shhhh
WHEN: Solace 10
WHERE: the Sparrow encampment in the valley
NOTES: post is a little image and text heavy. Feel free to NPC refugees helping out or Sparrows, or if you want me to NPC a Sparrow let me know and I will but they're mostly just moving around here to enhance everyone else's experience. There are only 13 of them altogether, but they move around a lot, and there are refugees helping. Otherwise this is open, have fun with it and party until the booze is gone!

Since the notice went up in early Justinian, the colorful encampment belonging to the troupe of bards and mercenaries has been a flurry of activity, bringing in casks of wine and ale, clearing the open land, and erecting tents even more elaborate than the ones they live in. The week before large fire pits are built up around the area, and merchants stop by regularly and leave with less goods but looking particularly satisfied. Any curious on-lookers attempting to get a look into what the Sparrows are putting together will either be put to work or shooed away and told to come back later.

On the day of, any who turn up are welcomed.

Tents

Two large tents are erected to offer additional shelter from the elements, as well as a place to relax and enjoy conversation or anything else. They are lit dimly with lanterns and candles, and warmed with carefully contained fires. There is seating in both, as many pillows as the Sparrows could beg, borrow, or steal as well as logs stripped and polished to cut down on splinters. A few musicians rotate throughout the day playing music within the tents, and others mill about, offering conversation or drink to any who look lonely or too sober.

Fires

There are several fires built around the area the Sparrows have claimed as their own, flames kept high to stave off cold and offer additional lighting in the evening. People are welcome to congregate around them, and they are regularly tended by one Sparrow or another.

Food

Some may consider the food the main event, anything that can be cooked over a fire pit welcome game, as well as anything the kitchen was willing to pitch in. The Sparrows are a multicultural group, and that is evident in the food being offered. There's a little something for anyone, from Ferelden to Par Vollen. Those doing most of the cooking, oddly enough, are a qunari with broken horns and a dwarf with tattoos on her face.

Music

Throughout the encampment music can be heard. A space has been cleared and stamped down for dancing, and a regular stream of musicians, both from the troupe and not, are featured. If someone wasn't approached or didn't approach the Sparrows prior to this event but feel compelled to join in, they are not turned away.

Dance

During both day and night throughout the clearing if there's music, there are dancers. Several are professional, trained to dance and that is the purpose they serve within the troupe. Those offering performances rather than just dancing to the music as they see fit keep away from what has been designated as general dancing space, although there are a few who will be seen dancing in the crowd as well. If anyone were to ask for instruction, they'd be all to happy to accommodate those people.

Fire Dancers

As night falls a different sort of dancer emerges, with fans and sticks and poi, wreathed in flame and dangerous if it weren't for the grace with which they perform. These performers keep away from anything flammable, and other Sparrows will be quick to drag back anyone who gets too close, as it could be dangerous for the dancer and onlooker both.

Comments

Andra

[faithstarved]

I. Circulating
As the leader of the Sparrows Andra can be seen regularly circulating throughout the tents and open areas. She's checking on her people, as well as their guests, making sure everyone is enjoying themselves, and offering the history of the Surviving Sparrows for anyone curious as to the origins or purpose of the group. This is perhaps a recruitment exercise although whether anyone of significant talent is in this dump remains to be seen.

She'll stop and talk to anyone who catches her eye, smiling warmly and introducing herself right off.

II. Drinking
She didn't spend all the coin and favors to not partake in the alcohol and food brought in, and when Andra isn't circulating she can be found either by the cooking area or in the tents, drinking and flirting with anyone who gives her an opening. Far be it for her to not enjoy herself too.

III. Dancing
Though Andra isn't one of the performers of the day, she enjoys dancing and the music played by those in the encampment is perfect for dancing to. She moves with a liquid grace, honed from years of practice within the troupe, as well as years of dancing as a child in the Alienage. She loves to dance, and the smile on her face as she moves around other bodies, attempting to loosen them up and enjoy the music a little more, doesn't wane.

Anyone seen attempting a stiff Orlesian dance may be interrupted, however. This is not the kind of music for that nonsense.

IV. Pyrotechnics
Early in the evening Andra disappears into her tent, only to reappear later dressed in a tighter outfit than the loose dress she's been moving around in throughout the day. She has two unlit poi on chains, which after finding her position and calling the broken-horned qunari (Pol, is his name) to stand guard she lights the balls. It takes a minute for her to build the momentum required, but soon enough the tiny orbs of fire are spinning and arching around her body in motion, light from the flames catching on her skin and the few jeweled adornments she sewed into her outfit for just such a reason.

She moves with the same grace of earlier dancing, although this time it's carefully calculated, deliberate, and it's clear one false move and she could be in trouble.

She dances for several minutes, concentration written across her features. When she's done the poi are dropped and quickly extinguished, and a sheen of sweat glistens across her skin.

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Okay, so, this is a Thedas version of a circus, like a cirque de soleil type thing, and your whole thing is birds. Sparrows. Not crows. I'm led to believe that crows are a waaaay different thing. Birds seem pretty important in these cultures here, I dunno, 's kinda weird."

You've done it now, Andra. You somehow got Church talking. Now you will regret it. Even as he stuffs something foody in his mouth. "So is this like you're trying to raise money or just some free charity show for the Inquisition's sake?"

Sorry this is so late RL ate me

[faithstarved]

Andra looks mildly amused as Church talks, not particularly bothered by the onslaught. She doesn't mind the questions, inclining her head slightly when he paused.

"We've had a rough time, my crew and I felt that a little levity was in order. As for the name, I'm afraid I didn't pick it, really. But no, we are not Crows. They are contract killers. We are performers." As well as contract killers depending on who is paying, but really they're no where near the Crows in terms of assassinations.

[motherfucking_ghost]

It's better to catch him in a pause, or else he'll come up with some new reason to keep talking. "I think we all appreciate the levity." The Fade can suck it. "Okay. So. Are you guys just here to put on a show, or are you doing other things for the Inquisition? Like. Repairs and building and stabbing things and shooting arrows and stuff. I know someone who is real keen on everyone pulling a certain amount of weight if you live around here." Isn't that right Cassandra.

i;

[foxsays]

When at a party, it's only polite that you go find the host, and so Araceli makes it her business to slip through the crowds as soon as she can after arriving. She remembers Andra from the Western Approach and she's glad to get to meet her again when she's not sweating, or covered in sand, and when her hair isn't a mess because she got interrupted by varghests when she went to cool off in a spring.

"Andra!" Pure delight rings out in her voice when she hurries over, curls streaming behind her, long loose skirt flapping as she makes to embrace her. "This is wonderful! There's never been anything like this at Skyhold before!"

The soiree reminded her of one part of home but this reminds her of the much more fun parts, the way parties in taverns spill out onto the docks and the ships, or how the ships meeting at sea drop anchor together so the crews can mingle.

[faithstarved]

Andra's face lights up at the sight of Araceli, less mussed from the desert now. She accepts the embrace, laughing lightly at the comment.

"That is the idea. Things seem far too serious here, some days!" Far be it for anyone to mistake Andra for a serious person, even in association. She would rather have a good time than buckle down and be serious, though she knows the necessity of both. Right now, Skyhold needs a good time.

[foxsays]

"Some people here are too serious to piss, honestly." It's not an opinion you can even share since there are too many people who might just explode upon hearing such a scandalous statement voiced openly.

"How did you manage to do all of this?" She's impressed, probably verging on astounded; the soiree was grand but dull the way fancy parties are, and there's one thing in particular that she's already excited about. "I mean fire dancers?"

Pyrotechnics/Circulating/Drinking mashup

[circleprodigy]

Part of Andra's audience that evening includes two individuals; a small, pale elven woman and her mabari companion. From the moment the poi are lit, they're mesmerized. At the elven woman's urging, they approach for a better view though don't get too close. A healthy fascination for fire doesn't mean a total disregard for safety, after all. After the poi are extinguished, she claps along with the others and smiles.

Later on in the evening, Inessa is pleasantly mellow in one of the tents, a glass of spiced wine in one hand. Her other is occupied with rubbing her mabari's belly. "Such a good boy, Garahel. You've behaved yourself well tonight...."

Hearing footsteps, she glances over and perks up. "Oh, hello! You were wonderful out there."

[faithstarved]

Andra has had a few drinks after her performance, and she smiles widely at the compliment, bobbing her head at the young woman.

"Thank you! It's amazing what ten years of practice can accomplish," she grins, before spotting the mabari, and her face truly lights up at the sight of him, her hand stretching out so he can sniff her. "Oh hello there, handsome!" Fereldens.

[circleprodigy]

The friendly greeting has Garahel perking up and licking that hand, rolling over so that his very underappreciated belly is now turned her way. Inessa's lips twitch at this shameless display, but at least this woman appreciates mabari. On the border with Orlais, it's not always easy to tell who will warm up to him and who won't, unless they have masks.

"Well, now you've done it. A little attention and he'll be clamoring for more. Am I right to assume you a Fereldan?" The accent seems right, but Marchers across the sea are usually not that different. And she stares thoughtfully, getting the nagging feeling that this woman is familiar but not seeing how.

Korrin | OTA

[gatheringstorm]

Now this is Korrin's kind of party. No stuffy nobles to impress or at least not punch in the face here, no enduring formal wear that starts to chafe after a while, no tame Orlesian balldancing. Here, she can be as loud and passionate as she pleases, all thanks to these Sparrows.

Korrin will be there the moment it all begins, clad in an antaam-saar that will give her plenty of freedom of movement and conveniently show off her very toned form. The food, and more importantly the variety found, earns her favor and she'll highly praise the northern dishes, grateful for the cooks who know the proper use of spices in this very Fereldan land. Naturally, she'll pile enough to share, either with Araceli or any animal friends.

And of course, she has to dance. Araceli will get the bulk of her attention, but at points when her lovely 'Antivan' lady wants to mingle, she'll do the same. If she knows you, expect her to pull you into the rhythm. This won't stop until her feet are well and truly sore, and maybe not even beyond that. She'll have to spend some serious time at the hot springs later, but it'll be worth it.

Late in the evening, she's likely to be found in one of the tents, sprawled on the pillows and ready to be a pillow/heat source for Araceli or tired friends. Lux is allowed, too, naturally. She's pleasantly mellow by this time, full of good food, good memories and good wine.

[foxsays]

As much as Araceli did enjoy the party, and the sight of Korrin in her finery (and as much as she damn well knows Korrin enjoyed seeing her in much the same), getting to see Araceli in a more casual number when they don't have to worry about being on their very best behaviour, and when Araceli isn't having to disappear off to investigate things as part of a secret test means they're both enjoying tonight more.

There will be more Orlesian parties. More chances to make Korrin swallow her tongue when she laces herself into a corset.

Tonight they can forget about how Araceli is having to leave very soon, even if it's only for a little while (haha) and actually enjoy themselves after everything that's happened lately. The music changes to something more lively just as Araceli's about to take a sip of her drink and she grabs Korrin's out of her hand too, shoving them on the table as she pulls her with her.

"Come on, come on, this is good, this is like a dance from home!" How can Korrin resist when she swings her hips like that, skirt swaying to and fro so that decorative belted section at her hips catches the light, a cheeky smile on her face.

[gatheringstorm]

That casual number definitely draws Korrin's gaze throughout the party, all of it. She can't deny that there's something about seeing Araceli in the garb of her kind that's very appealing, and the bottom half adds a more personal touch. Meshing the two cultures together, Castilean and Tal-Vashoth, and blending them perfectly. It makes her want to add a touch of Araceli's homeland to her own garb, though it's a bit late for that now. But perhaps she'll get around to asking for next time.

As for how she can resist? She can't, not at all. Those swaying hips and skirt are more than enough incentive. Knowing that it's easier to cooperate rather than make Araceli strain herself, she readily joins her and abandons those drinks for now. "You have my attention, kadan, now and always...but especially now. Show me more of those moves from home."

And of course she'll give Araceli something to stares at, as well. Being at eye-level with her chest always puts Korrin in a mind to show it off in the best light.

[foxsays]

Hopefully in Rivain Araceli can pick out a few more things to round out her wardrobe since everything else is Ferelden or Orlesian for the most part, and nearly all of it entirely practical even down to the fancy dresses she's bought since she'll no doubt have many more parties to attend in the future. Finding this had been a stroke of luck that had involved haggling until her head ached. Definitely worth it for the look on Korrin's face and she knows she's got a corset that matches it too should she ever decide to dress it up.

"It was a shame you couldn't come to Antiva," Araceli says as she leads the way out, picking up the beat easily - it's a fast number, lots of drums, lots of strumming and the antaam-saar might be supportive but it's being put to the test as Araceli moves. "After all it was Antiva, the brothel - there was music there, Zevran was there, it was a brothel so no one would have cared if I'd danced naked…"

People will probably throw them out if they do that here and there isn't music back in their room.

Inessa OTA

[circleprodigy]

As a fairly new arrival, Inessa didn't hear of the party until the day of, and now she's grateful that she pushed herself to reach Skyhold earlier. If this had been a few days ago, likely she would still be too exhausted to think of attending. Now, however, she's rested enough for the prospect of a party not to overwhelm her too much. Shedding the Grey Warden armor for once, the elven woman reveals that she did bring along some civilian clothing as well. Nothing racy, but it'll be easier to relax and fit in without the usual attire.

Naturally, her faithful mabari accompanies her and she's well-aware that to appease him, food has to be their first priority. The resulting tower atop one plate is for Garahel, the other much less stacked. Once they're out of the way and she spots some space at a nearby fire pit, Inessa will settle down and let Garahel inhale his food in peace. In the mean time she'll look around for any familiar -or at least friendly- faces. It's not as though she came here only to hang out with her dog, after all.

After the sun sets and fire dancers emerge, Inessa will head over to get a better look. She's a mage, conjuring fire is nothing odd even though she hasn't touched that element, but the Circle would never have prepared its mages to work with flames in such a way, and it's mesmerizing. In her fascination, she nearly gets too close but there's a chance to either drag her back or see Garahel nudge her away in time.

[bookish_lioness]

Though she'd never exactly been a wallflower or any such thing, Hermione really isn't the biggest fan of large parties, especially when she doesn't know the vast majority of the people there. But Korrin had said she'd be there, and if one of her friends was going, there must be other familiar faces.

At the moment, it seems as though she'd been wrong in that regard.

Of course, that could just be because she doesn't see anyone she knows right away, or they could be coming by later. At least here, it seems as though there are so many different cultures represented that no one stares too hard at the rifter in jeans and her only decent tee. She really should see about buying a few Thedas-appropriate outfits sometime. Like right now. She can go right now.

She's just about to do as much, too (or at least use that as her excuse for leaving early), but then she notices a dog off in a corner eating. It's no odd sight on its own, but though she's seen several mabari by now, this one looks vaguely familiar. It isn't until she looks up and notices what seems to be his owner that Hermione realizes she looks familiar as well.

It's impolite to stare, though, and so rather than just stand there and gawk, she offers the woman a small smile as she comes closer. "I've seen you and your mabari before. In the library, wasn't it?" Really, given how little Hermione goes out, that's the only sensible guess.

[circleprodigy]

Inessa is not exactly striving to be a wallflower herself, though given her reserved nature and the fact that she knows so few at this point in time hardly help matters. She doesn't seem to mind, though, content to observe festivities and appreciate a lighter, much less tense, atmosphere than she had seen in some time previous. This was a very welcome change.

Sipping at her own (currently non-alcoholic) drink, Inessa looks over and smiles, nodding. "I believe so, yes. We're nearly arrived, and I hadn't seen a library in some time. I felt compelled to see the contents of Skyhold's once I learned of their existence. I'm Warden Inessa Serra, and this is Garahel. He'll be happy to great you once he's done inhaling his food."

Ellana | open; prose or brackets is fine

[serannas]

{ tents }
If only the clan had had tents like these! Ellana sits in one of these large, colorful tents, a smile on her face as she takes in the atmosphere. There's a drink in her hand, but she's barely touched it because honestly, she's forgotten all about it. The musicians catch her attention, as do snippets of pleasant conversation. It's a lovely night, and she's happy to talk to people.

{ dance }
Unlike the dancing at the soiree, the dancing here at the party is of the type Ellana is more used to. It's carefree and spirited, as she skips along, twirls, and lifts her arms in the air. Anyone is welcome to dance with her, though odds are, she'll take the person's hands and spin them around until they're both dizzy.

Araceli; ota; prose or brackets I'll match

[foxsays]

music;
Castileos is seldom quiet; by day there's the hustle and bustle of the markets and the docks, but by night the taverns throw open their doors to allow the music to spill out into the night, and Araceli can be found close to the musicians, always drifting back when something else catches her attention. Her lute is back in her chambers but she hums along, smiling the whole time, drumming out the beat on her hands. A few drinks in she does find the last bit of courage to approach before she's welcomed to join in, voice ringing out alongside all of theirs, a delighted smile on her face the whole time.

dancing;
The sort of dancing they had at the soiree is the sort Araceli has been expected to do as part of palace life, but it's not real dancing: too many rules, too many worries, and it wasn't even really dancing in truth, it was all another test to disguise something else. This sort of dancing is all about passion and joy, and Araceli's long skirt whirls as she goes, happy to trade partners but she does have to stop to take a breath; that's the other reason she's wearing the top half of her antaam-saar, so she won't overheat from the exertion.

After all, she'll be off to Rivain soon and while this isn't her very last night? This feels like the best sort of way to say goodbye for a while.

Asher; ota; prose or brackets I'll match

[hlif]

food;
Of course Asher can be found by the food. Like that's even a surprise but perhaps for all that he might say he's a simple man of simple tastes, he's picking the dishes from further afield and usually happy to recommend something to someone if they're not too sure about it. That's the thing about travel, especially when you're living on the road, eating at stands in the markets or in tiny taverns and inns - you get to try everything but then you come home and it all tastes like it was boiled in a boot.

Stil, he does have some words of warning. "Don't eat any Marcher food, they wouldn't know food if it up and punched them in the mouth." Because after all, have you heard about the pies there?

Tents;
The Boneflayers are all in attendance somewhere or other at the shindig, probably causing mischief as Asher manspreads the way most men his size do. Obnoxiously. He's halfway to drunk, reclining quite happily with his shirt mostly open, swaying in time to the music, perhaps a little flushed but well, he's been drinking.

Not that much but he's not sure what they're refilling his tankard with and he doesn't care, nor does he care if someone wants to sit themselves down next to him on the pillows for a chat, he's still good and solid enough to lean against for the moment.

[gatheringstorm]

Looking over the food for things she and Araceli might like, Korrin overhears the comment about Marcher food and smirks. Her plan is momentarily derailed as she heads over and leans on him, just because. If it was Mal, he'd topple over but Asher's usually sturdier than that.

"There you go again, blaming Marchers for what Fereldans do. What, did you run out of Orlesians to insult? Is such a thing possible?"

[hlif]

Mal Reynolds is a delicate flower, everyone knows that. There's a mutter of 'steady on' but that's just the standard sort of Asher fare as he allows it and guards some of his own grub because that is his food, and Asher only shares with Bronson who is currently off guarding the chickens with some refugee kids Asher is paying for the night.

(Asher is fond, and Asher might remember all the Blight refugees in Kirkwall when he sees the kids in the camp milling about.)

"Orlesians don't think fish and egg pie is a fucking delicacy, okay. Do you know how skinny I was in the Free Marches? I was all bones because my countrymen make food that sticks to your ribs. There was no meat on me. I just caught up with one of my favourite Orlesians anyway, she gives as good as she gets with the insults."

food

[fightingdirty]

While he isn't addressing Lena directly, she smirks over the shoulder of the person he's speaking to, seeing them take his advice and pick something else. Once Asher is free, she sidles up beside him, a loaded plate in one hand and a tankard in the other.

"Been telling these people about the superiority of Fereldan food?" she asks. From the amount of hearty slop on her plate, it's clear that's mostly what she's taken, though there's a spicy Antivan dish smushed on the side.

[hlif]

"Lena Meravas, took your time coming to see me again." Korrin might have told him not to make any sky vagina jokes or to be more sensitive since it was harder on her so this is him trying to be good before he shoves something that looks Par Vollen-ish in his whole mouth.

Spicy. Very spicy. Burns the whole way down and makes him choke and cough before he can continue after chugging plenty of cider to wash it down.

"Korth no, if I wanted that I'd throw myself on mum's decidedly non-tender mercies and that's what we always get stuck eating at the kitchens. There's Nevarran food here, Rivaini stuff. Things from places the crew won't let us go because 'you can't be trusted there Asher'."

Sadira

[fledglingenchanter]

Mingling/Circulating
To say that Sadira had never seen such festivities would be an understatement. If her jaw was not perpetually open, then her eyes were constantly darting about trying to take everything in at once. It was a little dizzying and in some ways more than a little terrifying. She moved through the crowds as if in a dream, eager to interact, but also afraid to do so. This war within herself was reflected in the way she stayed near the fringes of groups, watching, listening and enjoying all the while keeping a small bubble of personal space always around her.

Eating/Tents
Growing up in Ostwick, Sadira was no stranger to spices. She naturally sought out the richer foods, glad to eat something with an explosion of flavor. As she lounged against some pillows near a fire, a glass of wine was passed her way by a servant who laughingly refused her protestations. This was, after all, a party, and a party was nothing without a little drinking.

Dancing
Ater, after a few glasses of wine, had loosened her up, making, Sadira found herself out among those dancing. More than a little tipsy, it was easy to forget any mortification she might have felt at others seeing her dance. What she lacked in skill, she made up with enthusiasm and good cheer.