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

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.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

For once, Jamie doesn't feel obligated to attend the more formal festivities up in the keep proper, and once he's able to cobble together something resembling a costume he makes his way down to the valley, more than content to not have the eyes of every noble on him.

He's more comfortable down here, especially since he's managed to find someone to explain what the evening's all about, and he brings a few things with him - some small boxes of candied fruit and and a flask of whiskey that he's willing to part for a clever trick or a bonnie lassie's kiss - and he brings his bagpipes as well. The music he coaxes from them goes with the mood of the evening, growing faster and wilder as time goes on, and he's well enough now that he's able to keep pace with the other musicians with no problems.

The whole evening's not spent playing, though, for there are plenty of other things to indulge in. Eating is still far and away his favorite thing to do, but he also tries his hand at some of the other games of skill and chance, whether it be knife throwing, arm wrestling or playing cards. He's also not about to turn down the chance for some dancing, taking turns in both the large group dances and the smaller ones, and he's not shy about approaching a pretty girl and asking for a turn or two around the fire - or ducking into the shadows for a bit, should the evening happen to go that way.

Sleep will happen when it happens, but until then, he's not going to worry about it - or about anything else, at least not tonight. Tomorrow'll be time enough for that. Tonight is for other things.

Skyhold

Even though he doesn't like returning to his noble roots, these sort of events are something which Kain grew up with, and he's well used to them. At least the attire isn't the standard formalwear. He's a dragon, of course- but then, he's a dragon every year. His mask is an especially fearsome one, saved just for this time of year, and his suit is covered in decorative scales meant to resemble a dragon's.

He's not the most socially outgoing, even with his upbringing, so he tends to mostly just observe the more raucous and silly sparring events with a drink in hand. He does pace around quite a bit, quietly taking things in, pausing to watch anything that catches his interest.

When the dancing starts, he starts to move aside. He has too many memories of things simply not working out at soirees back home. Though... he does wonder if he has the courage to try it this time...

Valley

By now, Kain has had some drinks and has loosened up... well, to the extent that he ever does. He's definitely eyeing the boxing and the arm wrestling, thinking those would in fact be down his alley. More serious than the playful events earlier, actual feats of strength. He turns to whoever happens to be nearby, asking, "Are you ready for a challenge?"

He also hangs out by the fire for a time too, watching the dancers and listening to the music, lost in thought.

Merrick, of course, is avoiding the Skyhold party like the plague. He isn't dressed in a costume or anything, just his usual black, but he isn't hiding in the shadows. Instead he's quite animated, participating in games and tests of skill-- particularly knife throwing, which he enjoys doing just to show off and impress onlookers. He also participates in card games and arm wrestling, cheating heavily at both.

He partakes in the available libations, but also brings along some of his own stash. It's his own recipe for hooch, it's insanely alcoholic, and no you can't have any-- unless, of course, you manage to impress him somehow. He also has his own collection of herbs, and he'll pass his pipe around near the bonfire when he's not spearing things on the end of a sharp stick for roasting. And if you're so inclined, he also has a few hallucinogens on hand, which are bound to make this party a lot more interesting.

By late evening he's quite loosened up, enough to hop on tables with his guitar to play and sing along with the other musicians. He belts with wild, youthful energy, far different from the cold precision he displays in battle.

For someone who spends most of his time hiding in the shadows, he's behaving just as joyfully as everyone else, as if an invisible but very solid barrier has started to chip away.

Skyhold

Geneviève naturally is expected to make an appearance at the Skyhold affair, and while she'd needed to send out for a few things last-minute she shows up dressed as a woman of status should be. her gown is possibly more simple than some of the more elaborately outfitted Orlesian women, but no less fine, and her mask identifies her as some sort of non-specific sea creature. Depending on who asks, she's an elegant fish or a cetus. For one particularly drunk dignitary she insists she's a half-fish, half-woman creature that lures sailors to their deaths.

Her hair falls in curls down her back, though a good deal of it is pinned up behind her head in a pearl-and-seashell comb, matching the pearls she wears around her neck. The yellow feather brooch marking her as a chevalier is in it's usual place pinned to her bodice. She socializes as long as she is expected, drinking several glasses of wine and dancing with any who ask, though she's quick and polite to disengage when the dancing is done. Unless someone catches her interest, of course, though in this crowd, that is rare.

Mostly, she looks bored, but the good wine and food helps.

Valley

Once she's had enough of the party in the keep she makes her way down to the Valley, with the help of two particularly youthful stablehands and a bit of flirting, she doesn't even have to walk the whole way. She has with her a bottle of wine as she assumes most of what they'll be drinking in the valley below is swill, but she's got a comfortable buzz going and would like to progress into not caring by the end of the evening.

She may be a lady of proper upbringing, a chevalier, and an Orlesian, but the party below in the Valley is more the kind of thing she enjoys, the kind of party she would throw, were she the one in her family to throw parties. Dancing less about form and more about the music, laughter and drinking.

Her fine dress may make her stick out, but throughout the night she can be found playing Wicked Grace, or throwing knives, or doing other things generally considered unladylike in high society. She's in a good mood for the first time since coming to Skyhold, really, and the general stiffness she usually carries with her lapses as she smiles and speaks with others around the fire.

Edited 2016-11-01 08:41 (UTC)

Skyhold
Rydia had never ben too fond of public events, especially pompous ones like the Celebration in Skyhold (At least for her standards), but basically living in the fort curiosity won over her and she decided to attend. At least to leave her room for a while. She's not even in a costume, the woman is just using her everyday clothes but- they may look exotic enough to fool those who aren't too familiar with the summoner. A long plain gown to cover her legs, a cheap dragon mask to cover her face and- done! Perfect to go!

She's carrying carring a black bag with an embrodied white dragon on it and while one may just assume it's no more than a stupid, way too large bag probably carrying girl stuff- it's actually the place where she carries Kain's ashes. Yes, it's a creepy thing but she's never leaving the urn behind, in case she'll find a way to return home it will be offered to the dragoon's 'family', Kain and Rosa, Rydia can't risk to leave that world without him... right? That's what friends do, they carry your corpse trying to bring your remains to the people who cared the most. ~~It's not like she's ah hopeless sentimental when it comes to family bonds.~~

The party doesn't seem to appeal the woman too much, Rydia isn't exactly socializing: she's walking around, watching people dance and taking small pieces of food now and there. As much as she'd love to grab someone's arm and drag them on the dance floor, no matters who, everything seems a bit too formal for her tastes. Maybe she should just leave and leave all the fancy stuff to those who can actually appreciate it.

Valley
A few glasses of Rum later, in a place that suits her way better, Rydia is finally starting to enjoy herself. Sweet Leviathan, she didn't even realize how much she missed the loud sounds of a crowd during her months of almost isolation in Skyhold (And Mist, before finding herself in another world)- reading books is great, learning it's wonderful, but having so many creatures around... it's makes her happy. And, yes, maybe part of this happiness comes from the alcohol she had but for now all is great. Even Kain's urn that has been with her for almost a month is now sitting on a stool while she dances with strangers. She didn't take her clothes off but the mask is now missing, lost who knows where.

Is she drunk? Probably. Is that a problem? Well, not really. For now.
"Hey, you! Yes, you.. come here, join me for this... thing. Stuff. Show me how you move those legs!"

Edited 2016-10-31 11:53 (UTC)

Jospehine's gown is in the same colours as her usual garb but with longer skirts; she's had to hitch up her dress as she's made her way down into the valley. She's had a few drinks but not enough to be divest her of her faculties; when one is so enmeshed in the Game as she is, it is never a good idea to lose one's focus.

Still. It is Satinalia, and Josephine is Antivan, and she certainly plays the part of being more free-spirited than she usually is. When she spots Jamie from some distance, her eyes brighten, and she makes her way over quickly, dropping her hold on her dress and allowing it to skim the ground in the process. "Jamie!" she exclaims, once she's just in hearing distance. "It is good to see you so well." She'd seen the reports from the mission he'd partaken in the other month, after all.

Josephine, of course, is carefully keeping an eye on the attendees at the celebrations at Skyhold proper, hoping to nip any potential trouble in the bud before it can even begin to bloom. The man dressed in the dragon theme might not be causing any trouble now, but he is quiet, and Josephine wanders over to see if she can, perhaps, draw him out of his shell a bit.

"I love your mask," she begins, sidling up beside him surprisingly well considering the diameter of the gown she's wearing, "where did you have it made?"

Inessa doesn't enter the Great Hall, knowing the best that the Inquisition has to offer is reserved for the visiting dignitaries and nobility, of which she is neither. Even so, she does dress for the celebration, with a dragon mask of her own and deep blue mage robes. Having no desire to be mistaken for a servant due to her ears and ordered about, the Grey Warden mage opts for viewing the contests of strength in the sparring ring and archery areas, though she doesn't participate herself. When the light fades, she lingers to observe the music and dancing, trying to get Garahel to stay near her so that he doesn't beg from the entire gathering. She's only a little successful in that area, predictably.

Edited 2016-11-01 03:49 (UTC)

Korrin naturally sticks to the valley party, because that's where the best stuff will happen. Who needs the stuffiness of the Great Hall? Satinalia isn't about restraint, after all, so the whole point is lost on those poor nobles. When not dancing with Araceli (or taking her kadan to some shadow area to have her way with her), she'll be around for the knife-throwing to cheer him on, and join in on the card games, cheating just as much. The late evening has her stretched out and perfectly mellow with a tankard of mead she hasn't drained yet, grinning and laughing at his sing along. She raises said tankard, in high spirits and glad to see the same from him.

Korrin doesn't bother to attend the Skyhold festivities beyond using the courtyard as a prelude to the real party in the valley below. There, she can be as loud an obnoxious as she pleases, and expect the same from others. It'll be a wild night, and not holding back is half the fun.

When it comes to refreshments, she'll contribute with a few casks, having sent for them in advance. Her maraas-lok stash is less widely shared, but still given to those who ask and think they can hold their hooch. Spoiler alert; unless they drink like a fish or are as large as a qunari, they can't. Observing their reactions and quick descent into inebriation is part of the fun, too.

While Korrin isn't musical herself, she appreciates its presence and will readily join in the dancing. Special attention is given to her kadan, Araceli, but she'll also dancing with anyone interested...if they can keep up. Korrin is an energetic dancer and not about to hold back in this area either.

The games get her interest, too. She'll join in on the archery contests just for the hell of it, not expecting to win anything, and naturally throws herself into the arm-wrestling bouts, happy to take on anyone who thinks that just because she's a mage she isn't as tough as her kin. Watch out for her near any games of Wicked Grace, too, she'll cheat shamelessly tonight.

All in all, don't expect her to leave until dawn, unless Araceli's still-recovering body needs help back up to the fortress before then.

Skyhold

Now what would this celebration be without its Fool? Well one of them anyway. He was dressed well even if he was without a mask. Honestly he hadn't really felt like wearing one when he could just show off his face for all the world to see just who they'd crowned. Perhaps some wouldn't wish to have this honor bestowed upon them but, well, Iskandar was getting a damn kick out of it. Certainly he didn't know what all of this was about but a celebration was a celebration in his eyes. A time for people to escape the dark times for a bit.

So the huge man could easily be found with food and drink much of the time. More often with drink if one were to be perfectly honest about the situation. This was a man who adored his wine so of course he was going to partake in it as much as possible. Besides, what kind of King would he be if he didn't do everything to great excess?

If one wanted to be ordered by him though that could be arranged. Especially since most of his orders tended to be on the playful side. A kiss please! A dance then! And so on. Had anyone ever delighted in this role as much as he had? Well he certainly wouldn't know that answer but he hoped not in a way for it would mean such surprise on the faces around him!

Which he had already since he was a rifter crowned for this...

Valley

Later when things have moved down to the valley, Iskandar was still there among the people. Once again he was partaking in as much drink as possible and clearly had no complaints about the quality. It all tasted quite delightful to him and he certainly wasn't going to be picky about it like the King of Heroes had been during that feast of Kings. Nope. He was going to enjoy every last drop as he wrapped arms around friends. Or even strangers who got close enough and seemed even a little bit friendly.

Kisses were still flowing here too as he enjoyed the games and dancing. At times he even shared songs of his own, his rich and deep voice filling the air when he did so. Apparently he had managed to learn a few of the tavern songs by sitting there listening to them! One could feel free to teach him a few more though. He would simply adore that.

But really if one just wanted to sit on the lap of this large King he would happily welcome that! He was here for alcohol, affection, and to party. It was going to be hard to figure out if he was drunk or not since this was the sort of man he was all the time anyway.

When she approaches, he's animatedly talking with someone, but when he hears her voice, there's no hesitation before he turns towards the sound, and his face lighting up a bit when he spots who it is that's calling him.

"Josephine! You made it down here after all."

He'd have thought for certain that she'd be stuck up at the keep all night, but he's glad to see her. Enough so that he excuses himself fairly quickly so he can make his way over to her and save them both the trouble of having to try and talk over the crowd. There's a smile on his face as he reaches her, and even though he waves his hand in dismissal at her comment, the smile stays put.

"Ah, it'll take more than a wee knock on the head to keep a McCrimmon down."

Or even a couple of knocks, as far as he's concerned, but he's happy enough to be free of the healer's tents anyway. Enough so that he offers her his arm, willing to be an escort of sorts should she care for one - and willing to let her choose the direction in which they wind up heading, even if she prefers to keep her own space rather than share his.

"I'll not complain about being able to get out and enjoy this, though. How about you, then? I thought for sure you'd have to deal with the nobles until the wee hours of the morning."

Pel glimpsed the highbrow party with stupid frilly foods on her way from the library. This party is better.

She changes into a frock with a slightly more plunging neckline, only because pregnancy has given her cleavage for the first time in her life. At thirteen weeks, her baby bump is tiny, with a distinctive point that makes it look different from normal belly fat.

Early on, she can be seen eating a bloody-rare steak she purchased earlier today, one she barely cooks over the fire before tearing into.

Having been here a year, she has picked up on several of the dances. The exercise does wonders for her morning sickness and energy levels, so she is prepared to dance until the sky lightens, if her body allows it.

Edited 2016-10-31 16:51 (UTC)

"Oh my, aren't you a cutie? You remind me of uncle Titan so much..."

Rydia is drunk. Completely drunk and she spent most of the night laughing and dancing with people, genuinely enjoying her time in the middle of the crowd and appreciating the fact no one tried to stop her from doing anything because 'that's inappropriate for an human girl'. And now? Now the summoner is going wild. The alcohol woke up her more childish side as well, apparently, but since it took away most of her melanchony and sadness as well everything is more than welcome for once.

She's lying down on some boxes, looking up at him while playing with an empty glass of ale. "He can lift three cows with his left arm, you know? Can you do the same?" That's... definitely not a sober grown up woman should act but at the moment Rydia isn't quite herself.

The 'elegant' party is definitely too much for Rydia's tastes as well- but she shouldn't have been allowed to join the party in the valley because now she's completely wasted. And after dancing with random people and getting rid of her boots because her feet hurt (a terrible idea, now her legs are positively freezing and tomorrow she'll have to search for them since they're her only boots) she just decided to lie down and look at the people around her in complete... awe.

Let's be honest, she's mostly staring at dwarven, the summoner seems to have a weird fascination with them, but some other people seem to catch her attention as well. The human with the fish tattoo in the middle of the forehead, that elf with actual facial hair (and a beard she can proudly call beard, the guy with six fingers... if something grabs her attention she's not ashamed to show she noticed.

"Mmmh?" And Pel isn't safe from Rydia as well. The summoner barely pays attention to her at first, then something catches her eye and she jumps on her feet (her cold, dirty feet...) approaching her. No greetings, no hellos, she just walks more or less straight in her direction trying to approach the other woman... and trying to find a decent position to press her ear against her stomach. Definitely not the best approach and Pel would have all the time to push her away before she gets too close.

Sorry?

Christine heads down to the valley without a costume. She tells those who inquire that she's had no time to assemble one; she's a busy woman. But being without a costume doesn't mean she isn't ready to celebrate as she grabs a cup of something and takes a seat to listen to the music. Jamie grabs her attention straight away by playing that strange instrument. After he's done, she moves over to where he is.

"You play well. What is that instrument?"

Pel is very, very weirded out by this, but she's not stopping her. Mainly because as Rydia comes closer and closer to her goal, she's thinking, she can't possibly be...she's going to move away, isn't...okay this can't--oh, there she goes.

In clan life, there are no strangers. Therefore, the phenomenon of strangers feeling compelled to touch a woman's baby bump is unknown to her. Or it was, until just now.

"All right," she says in a daze. She supposes drunk people do weird things. At least she avoided spilling anything she was holding.

Ellana takes some pleasure in walking among nobles who think she's a servant or don't want her there, only to turn and talk to someone influential in the Inquisition and watch the nobles' eyes widen from behind their masks. There are many different techniques an elf can use to change things. Some elves work behind the scenes to throw things into disarray; Ellana stands front and center so she can act as decoy. While the nobles are outraged at Ellana's lack of deference, others can sneak about without being noticed.

That isn't to say that Ellana heads straight for Iskandar because she wants to stick it to the nobles. Oh, no. That's just an added bonus. Instead, she's delighted to congratulate him on winning. She did vote for him, after all.

"Hello, Your Highness," she starts. "Or does a Fool go by another title?"

She did, Pel, Rydia totally started checking on you. She isn't apparently going to move away, nor she realizes that touching another woman's stomach is probably inappropriate. There is a poke, another poke, then another one- she should be punched away, probably, she wouldn't even remember it the next day.

"I knew it!" And it gets worse, the summoner is now trying to hug Pel's stomach, pressing her cheeck against her baby bump "It's twins!" There is no way that Rydia has any clue on how many kids are there, their gender or anything but in her mind all makes sense... okay? And it's not like she's saying that only because having a twin sounds super cool right now. "Are you the father? Because they're definitely going to... have pointy ears. Probably. Which is good. Would be better if they could, you know, flip them up and down like doggies. I like doggies." She's not moving from there unless you push her away, Pel. "Will they like doggies? Can I touch your ears?" Personal space, what is it?

"Erm. No, you may not. Here, let's...let's pick you up and get you home, all right?" This is very uncomfortable for Pel, but she suspects it will be even less comfortable for Rydia when morning comes. Pel gets to work peeling the summoner off her person, starting with her hands, then her face.

The lack of costume doesn't bother Jamie, not really. Most of the reason he threw something together was more to have a couple of extra layers on to drive off the chill when he first came down to the party. By now he no longer needs it, and he's considering ditching at least part of the outfit - but he hasn't gotten around to it by the time Christine makes her way over.

He remembers her, in that vague sort of way that one has when they've seen someone around here and there but haven't talked with them much, but that doesn't bother him at all, either, and he gives her a pleased smile at the compliment.

"Ah, some people around here like to refer to it as a bagged pipe, but I call it a bagpipe It's close enough to what I used to play back home in Scotland that it's easier for me to think of it as that. Thank you, though. It's good to know I've not lost my touch. Have we met before, though? You seem a wee bit familiar, if you don't mind my saying so."

Christine dips her head in a nod, an amused look on her face. Skyhold's population has growth so much that it's not surprising there are still people who don't regularly speak to one another. But she does know Jamie, also in a vague sort of way where she knows little of him, but enough to know he is a decent sort.

"I work at the healers' tents, though to be more specific, we worked together briefly in the Western Approach. I am Christine."

"But your ears look so cute."

Oh, she's just going to deal with a serious case of hangover as soon as she's awake. And then a long moment of panic when she'll realize she left Kain somewhere- but everything will be okay, who'd steal a urn in any case?

"Home? Like, home home?" It's not hard to push Rydia a bit back, her coordination isn't exactly the best right now and she's too distracted by the other's words to even realize Pel is moving her arms away "Because I'd do anything to go home. Not in that place they want me to call home, you know." She gasps, covering her mouth with both hands "Wait, if you want to come home with me... are you planning to raise your kids between monsters? I should let you know..." Rydia dozes off for a moment, standing still with a finger pointed in the elf's direction and looking at the floor "It ain't a good idea. Whatever we were talking about."

"I know, da'len," Pel says sympathetically about wanting to go home. The rest, she lets slide. "I'll take it under advisement. Come on, on your feet."

She squats to slide her left arm under Rydia's shoulders, using the strength in her legs to lift her up.

Edited 2016-10-31 19:30 (UTC)

She looks up at Pel with evident confusion "Day-leen?" Not a word she encountered so far inher studies of this world, but then again she wasn't able to find so many books about elves anyway "And- you better remember it." The summoner isn't fighting Pel, quite the contrary, she seems almost pleased when she gets a chance to lean against her- and not only because she's half naked in her usual clothes and the elf's body feels rather warm in comparison.

"Anyway... must be nice. You know. Having a kid. Are you happy about it? Because I would be if I was pregnant. I think." There is a pause "To be honest I'm not even sure you are... I mean-" even finding the right words seems unnaturally difficult "maybe that's just fat? But wouldn't it be nicer if it was a baby?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 32

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

Jamie | Valley - OTA

Kain | OTA

Merrick; Valley, ota

Geneviève OTA (prose or brackets ok)

Rydia | Skyhold - Valley OTA

no subject

no subject

Skyhold, courtyard

no subject

Korrin | Valley | OTA

Iskandar | OTA

no subject

Pel | Valley | OTA

Valley

no subject

no subject

no subject

{ skyhold }

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject