faderift | OPEN: Satinalia

Entry tags:

OPEN: Satinalia

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: SATINALIA
WHEN: Firstfall 1
WHERE: Kirkwall
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 is no party at the Gallows, but those who can be spared on Satinalia may be given the night off to join Kirkwall's celebration, which spans the entire city and will take several days to peter out. Hightown plays host to lavish balls—but you'll need an invitation, and the unlucky guards posted at the stairs leading into the nobles' district are especially on guard for mischief-makers. There's no such crackdown in Lowtown, where masked revelers spill out of taverns and into the streets, often bringing barrels of ale along with them. Even Darktown gets involved, in its own way: anyone who can afford a celebration goes to Lowtown, but some of the roving bands of thieves in the tunnels don animal masks for the occasion.

And near the docks, enterprising children draped in white cloth are selling admission to a "haunted" warehouse for one copper. Adorable—except that some of the partiers exiting seem genuinely terrified, with one unfortunate man even having wet himself. Taking the children up on their offer will reveal that they have a genuine haunting on their hands. Doors slam, objects fly, footsteps appear in the dirt floor. There's laughter at the edge of hearing and movement on the edge of vision, and brief snatches of a sea shanty sung in a monotone. Make a hasty exit, or try to find the source.

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Lowtown

Of course Korrin has to join in on the festivities and Lowtown is her kind of place. The unapologetically Vashoth woman starts at the Hanged Man, her favorite hangout and sometime workplace. However, she's not on duty tonight no matter how much the barman tries to bribe her. Instead, she's there for drinking, singing and dart or card games, with whoever she can rope into all that. The level of noise never seems to bother her, though it helps that whatever the volume, she can always manage to make her own voice heard.

Depending on the company and her mood, there's a chance at nudging her into a pub crawl, for a tour of Lowtown's other fine establishments. She doesn't inquire too deeply into the drinks, and trusts her drinking stone and tucked-away hangover remedies to save her if anything is suspiciously strong. Still, despite numerous attempts to get her to her limit, the Vashoth woman never seems to be more than pleasantly buzzed.

Docks

"...what the fuck." Okay, so Korrin had the copper and time to spare. She thought it worthwhile to encourage the kids, because why not? Money is money, and they need it for Satinalia treats...or simply survival. Checking out a 'haunted house' was just supposed to be a simple diversion.

Until it wasn't. Korrin's not the most spiritually aware of mages, but it doesn't take long for her to realize that something's amiss, something that would be exceedingly difficult for the children to fake. That sea shanty in particular causes the hairs at the back of her neck to raise up, but she doesn't leave. Instead, curiosity and concern have her deciding to investigate before anyone can get hurt.

Edited 2017-11-03 00:17 (UTC)

Lowtown

Thieves were not the only ones in animal masks. The Medicine Seller had donned a yellow fox face that other Rifters from Earth might recognize it as a mask for Noh and Kyogen plays. Despite being an exquisite and detailed piece of craftsmanship, the mask is nothing like the fennecs and foxes anyone would be familiar with. There were hungry wolves that looked less ferocious, with the fox's yellow teeth bared in a hungry snarl, and its eyes like red hot coals set in black pits.

The Medicine Seller had laid out his usual wares along the fringes of the celebration among the other merchants selling food and drink. However, among his packets, powders, pills, poultices and potions, there were also rows of little silk pouches.

"Omamori," he said to a prospective customer who'd picked one up curiously. "A charm to protect from misfortune. By all means, take one."

The Haunting

There had been a familiar rattling in his pack from the sword when he'd been heading back to the Gallows. He was well past his curfew and twice had slipped his chaperone to go stick his nose in some demon-y business earlier. Not that rules ever stopped him from doing his job. He was a medicine seller, after all.

By the time the person playing guard dog caught up, the Medicine Seller had already paid the children with a few silvers and a pouch of sweets, and was stepping over the threshold into the gloom of the dilapidated old building.

There was a crash as a flying pot smashed against the door, right where his head had been not half a second before.

"My, my. A noisy one."

Enter the guard dog.

Jogging to catch up, Kit is actually a bit winded by the time he catches up to the Medicine Seller, waving off the kids with a couple of candies and a few coppers. He heads into the crumbling building--and then jolts with widening eyes as the pot hits the door right above his head.

"Sodding ancestors--" He crouches down to examine the pot guardedly, then shoots a look at the Medicine Seller. Any annoyance at him over trying to sneak away is gone. "We've got to find something else to do for fun one of these days."

Lowtown

After having successfully endured the noble's party yesterday, Beleth is ready to cut loose. But there are still strings attached to her--both her responsibilities as the scoutmaster, and her own reluctance. It's time to take advantage of the holiday and be, for one night, someone entirely different. Someone who isn't held back, by their job and by themselves.

And so, her dress is something entirely different in both style and coloring than what she usually wears, something appropriate for an elf in Lowtown, with her hair covered and tied back by a matching red scarf. Her mask fully obscures her face--her vallaslin in particular, something that she'd been careful to see to. Only if you're lucky will you catch the glint of bright purple eyes in the dim light, peeking through the wolf's face.

Her bearing has changed, as well. She all but sashays through the crowd, laughing and shouting along with everyone else. Occasionally she's pulled into an impromptu dance, or grabs someone else, or grabs a drink, or gives a drink. But for all the noise she makes, she rarely speaks any actual words. After all, it's a lot harder to recognize a voice that's just yelling out in enjoyment of the evening.

Despite the efforts she's gone through, though, she finds that she is, actually, enjoying herself. It's nice, to not have to be weighed down by herself, for a night.

Docks

Well, there's more yelling going on here, but this isn't in enjoyment. She dodges a vase flying at her, resisting the urge to go to her dagger tucked away in her sleeve. Flattening herself against the wall, holding her hand up to her mask, she's sure she looks as foolish as she feels, but she'll look even more foolish getting furniture upside the noggin.

"By the--By the Maker." She gasps out, taking quick steps to peek around the corner. That's a thing people say, right? She's pretty sure that's a thing people say. "Demons. Demons. Were the children demons? Are demons interested in money, now?" Demonic capitalists, that's really what Thedas needs.

Slowly, hampered by her mask, she takes a quick look around the corner, only to dodge back around as a chair goes flying past her. Sylaise grant her strength, what an embarrassing way to die.

That fucking sword.

An Incredibly Mysterious Woman wearing a black wolf mask is a little further inside than he is, having just finished dodging the pot herself. She turns to glance over at the new occupant of the room, narrowing her eyes at the rattling. It's a tragedy that she has to resist saying something clever, like We need to stop meeting like this, or Flying pots are our thing now, huh.

Instead, she keeps all of her hilarious, witty commentary to herself, and bobs her head to him politely, while pressing herself against the wall. "And to think, we only paid a copper a piece for the privilege of getting brained by a demon. Those children are getting ripped off."

Maybe not all her hilarious, witty commentary.

"Oh?" The Medicine Seller lofted a brow. "If you are already exhausted, then I will not keep you."

Without another word, he pressed on into the darkness, already lighting one of those paper lanterns. When that was floating serenely above their heads, the Medicine Seller got down to his real work.

With a gesture, one by one the scales levitated from their drawer in the medicine box to land in single file along the edge of the wall. This was routine - they seemed to know where the Medicine Seller wanted them even before he had the drawer open.

"What a dark place. I wonder if we will run into others."

That was a familiar voice. It sounded suspiciously like Beleth. They did seem to always run into each other when something was having a supernatural temper tantrum. But she wasn't taking off the mask and far be it from him to ruin the illusion of anonymity on a day like this.

"I am sure they will learn the errors of undercharging," he remarked, with just a slightly amused lilt to his tone.

He pulled the horrible snarling fox mask to the side of his head so he could see better, and inspected the shattered pottery behind him. He picked up a piece, turning it over curiously.

"I wonder what has it so enraged,"

Lowtown is the only place Cade can be found for these particular festivities, dressed modestly for this kind of party yet nicely enough for the area. Knowing so few people present, he hangs back, sitting where seating is available and nursing a cup of wine, which he's allowing himself to drink only because it's a holiday and only because he's just having one.
Hardly the mopey wallflower, Cade is more or less content to watch the revelry and be silently glad he's not in the thick of it. This is kind of pleasant, actually.

"You're not alone."

Intoned abruptly by a deep, hollow voice. A tall shadowy figure looms up from the darkness behind Kit's shoulder —

"Most of them left." Casimir unfolds his hands to prod lightly at one of the lanterns. "But it's still here."

He turns his eyes over them both with bland disinterest; they're both plainly Inquisition (everyone with the anchors acts under their domain). It slots them into ally as much as anything might.

"Did you speak with the children?"

Kit turns quickly when he hears the voice behind him; it takes him a moment to place where he recognizes it from.

"No," he says after a pause, recalling the question, and looks from Casimir back to the Medicine Seller. His eyebrows draw together into a deep frown. "...Mind clarifying what you mean by 'it'?"

Lowtown

James Norrington is a man on a mission -- and that mission is so far, a total and complete failure. It was Satinalia, a night of fun and frolic, with masks and letting down some of your inhibitions and so ... he had decided to do that. By going to Beleth's rooms and finding her gone. Not in her office, or anywhere else in the Gallows.

So he thought, perhaps she was in Lowtown? In the Alienage? Travelled across the water, with Interceptor at his side, wandering through the various revels. Frustration clear on his hawkish features, and a touch of sadness. He glanced over at Interceptor, who whined softly at him.

He huffed, "It is not my fault she isn't anywhere obvious ... I am not acting cowardly. We are out here walking, aren't we?"

Interceptor barked, and trotted forward. Clearly stating that they were going to keep going until they did find her.

James sighed, gave his dog a wry look, and nodded, "And ...onward walking we go."

So off he went, wandering through Lowtown's ongoing party, no mask, no formal armor, just James Norrington. Wandering around other people's open glee, looking for someone who could not be found.

He would ignore the irony that this seemed to be the perfect metaphor for his life.

In the alienage, the party is going well and strong. Wine and ale, homebrewed, is being passed out to one and all. The elves are wearing homemade masks of paper and wood, and while they lack the finery of the ones of in Hightown, they are more than enough for the good cheer and festive feel around the vhendal.

Adasse is here with his people, laughing, drinking, wearing his simple mask of a fox. He cannot sing and they beg him not to - but they all want him to dance. And dance he can, and does, with wild and almost fevered abandon. All the dances the elves call their own, the twirls and swirls of the country dances, and what they have taken from Hightown ballrooms. He is a master of all, and you can hear his 'Hah!' echoing out into the streets as he pounds his feet into the table.

After a few dances, he'll stop to rest, leaning against a wall, sweaty and happy. He had gone around, invited friends to come, but even if they don't? He'll be having a good time.

"Okay," Church starts, leaning a little, and he probably shouldn't have too much more the way his voice is starting to take on an odd (read: southern) accent somewhere in there. "Okay okay okay. Listen, this usually isn't like a drinking night where 'm from? Like, 31st, okay, the kids dress up, go door t'door, get candy. Carve up pumpkins. Scary faces! Scary movies and stories and all. Pretty sure first's like a different country holiday? Yeah. An' later in the month, there's a food holiday. But so basically now, basically, basically this is like drinking Halloween, cuz, masks and shit."

Dear god, he barely stops talking while sober, it doesn't sound like drunk makes him any better. "Pranks! Pranks are big for it, too. We've gotta TP a house! We gotta TP all the bars we go to! Egg some cars--some wagons!"

Korrin leans in and listens, brow furrowing underneath that mask. "What the hell is TP? Or cars? And why would you carve up pumpkins, I thought you said the food holiday was later." You're confusing, Church, but she likes you and your weird accent enough to listen, and the quality booze is definitely influencing that as well.

"So, everyone's expected to give kids candy? Do you not have places like Lowtown or Darktown, 'cause those can be pretty dangerous at night. I've heard of gangs in Hightown, too."

"Not yet," the Medicine Seller amended. The lantern bobbed at Casimir's touch, the shadows it cast flickering wildly before it settled back into place above their heads. The Medicine Seller seemed utterly unperturbed, his eyes fixed on the scales as they continued to float from the drawer and into position. None of them had tipped yet, and things seemed to have quieted.

"That they permit people to leave is peculiar."

He glanced over his shoulder, the deep shadows making his mask only more ferocious looking.

"Perhaps who they want has not yet come."

One person who joins on the alienage fun isn't an elf at all, but at least she isn't a shem either. Korrin, having wandered over after the pub crawl, lingers at the edge to enjoy the festive atmosphere and prop herself up somewhere after all that drink. When a small, curious elf child approaches, she crouches down and offers a shoulder ride. So it is that she ends up with a happy, giggly wee thing holding onto her horns like they're handles. Every dragon needs a rider, right?

Spotting the very limber elf, she whistles and claps with the rest of them. Anyone who has that amount of skill has full rights to show off, as far as she's concerned.

Edited 2017-11-04 15:24 (UTC)

Lowtown

Although he probably should and could have gone to Hightown, given his family status and everything, Kain isn't in the mood for that sort of thing. As if he ever had been to begin with. But he makes his way to Lowtown, because... well... why not. It's tradition and it's not like he has anything better to do. He's not great at mingling, but he'll put up with it for the night.

He's also all for the mask aspect of this holiday. He's donned one of his favorite Orlesian dragon masks, one of many from his collection. His outfit has colors to match, as well, and even some dragon-scale patterns, so overall he looks pretty impressive.

For the most part, he heads into a tavern and takes a seat and a drink, also partaking of any food that's available. After a few drinks, he could maybe even be nudged into doing something more, but don't completely count on it.

Docks

After hearing the rumors about something creepy happening at the docks, of course Kain has to go check it out. He approaches warily, watching the frightened visitors flocking out. Well. This has... potential. He's just getting some coin out, and preparing to head in. He glances over at whoever is also approaching, figuring that he just has to rope them into this too.

"Care to join in?"

Hightown...ish

Fenris' mansion is right in the middle of Hightown, right where all the noble revelers are mingling and wandering to and fro from their various balls. There's no such party happening in his manor, naturally, and with most of the lights off, the building looks rather dark and foreboding in comparison to the lit up houses where the affluent celebrations are happening.

There's also a note posted to the front door, written in the hand of someone who isn't completely proficient:

"To thos who must endur the nobls and need a braek. You are welcom heer. Pleas nock. Evryon els, go away."

Lowtown: Hanged Man

Eventually, Fenris does head out, though he's among those pesky sorts who doesn't even bother with a mask, or with any sort of dressing up whatsoever. He's just very aware that the drinks will be flowing tonight, they'll be cheap and plentiful so who's he to turn that down? Besides, some part of him almost hopes that some long absent friends might return, just for the festivities. He knows better than to hope too much, but it's worth a shot.

He's also very much a creature of habit, so he makes his way straight for the Hanged Man, taking a seat at the bar once he's there, and placing his order. They're doing some kind of two for one special, which is all the better. He'll take what he can get. He's a lot more withdrawn than the enthused partygoers surrounding him, but he's actually not having too bad of a time right now.

"Fenris! Come join me!" Korrin raises her tankard to him as he enters, her voice booming from across the room. No one really pays attention to that, though, since they're busy making their own noise. She has one table claimed or semi-claimed; there's a passed-out revel-goer in one of the seats that she hasn't bothered to move away, but the rest aren't taken at the moment.

Inessa comes along because why not? She has little interest in parties of nobles and wouldn't be invited anyway, nor is she especially partial to drinking in a tavern at this time. But the Gallows is near-empty, with everyone else out and about for Satinalia. She might as well do the same. Garahel joins them, of course, rather pleased to show off his dragon costume to anyone and everyone. If he doesn't burst from all the treats given tonight, something is off.

So she reaches into her pocket to take out enough coin for herself and their four-legged companion, if he's charged. "Of course. A dragon is fearless. Right, Garahel?"

Garahel barks and nods, his tail wagging.

Edited 2017-11-04 22:33 (UTC)

"Perhaps they don't appreciate people being herded through their home to gawk at them. Or maybe they're just like that. Rage demons, or something." She's had more experience with demons than she had really ever wanted, and if she's learned one thing about them, it's that they rarely needed much of an excuse to fuck with people's lives.

"I suppose the only way is forward," She comments, peeking around the corner, than quickly sliding around it and into the next room. There's a pause, and then her head pops back into the room, glancing at the Medicine Seller.

"Unless a few angry demons scare you?"

Beleth doesn't appear among the revelry, but he seems to have caught the eye of a woman wearing a black fox mask. She stares at him thoughtfully as he moves, too long to just be chance. Finally, she makes her move, weaving her way through the crowd to approach him.

She's grateful for the mask, hiding just how anxious she is. But this is the purpose of Satinalia, isn't it? Be something other than yourself--be braver, be bolder. She can't do this--but maybe the woman she is tonight can.

"You look mighty lonely, serrah." She tilts her head, voice cheery as she reaches for his hands. "Come, dance with me. A fine young man such as yourself shouldn't be alone on a night like this." She sounds like an idiot. Creators. How do people do this normally? Is there some kind of secret to not sounding like you've never spoken to another person in your life?

Adasse turns to the whistling and clapping - a little surprised to see a Vashoth down here - but hey she's not spewing the Qun and the little girl is riding high, so he hooks a few steps towards her and beams, bowing before her. Then he proceeds to dance around, and with her and the little girl, spinning them both slowly around with him.

Beside him, Interceptor tips his head to the side, and then barks happily at the young woman. As if he knows her. For his part, James blinks with surprise as the complete stranger comes up and grasps his hands - drawing him towards the dancing. His surprise allows her to get him almost half-way there until he plants his feet, his fingers wrapping around hers.

"I - ah - oh, no. No thank you." He offers her a polite smile, tries to gently pull himself free. "I really can't -- I'm looking for someone!"

Interceptor barked at him again, bouncing around the woman excitedly. James frowned at the dog, and then perked, "Oh! Perhaps you have seen her? An elven woman, about your height, with violet eyes and cocoa-colored skin?

The little girl giggles up a storm, and Korrin grins as she glances up. "Hold on tight to those horns, okay?" She can't have her dragon-rider losing her grip, after all. She flashes a grin at the lithe elf, letting him take the lead for a change of pace. "Nice moves, it's always awesome to see someone really get into it."

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OPEN: Satinalia

Korrin

Medicine Seller - Open

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Beleth Ashara | Open

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Cade

jumpin' in as per liz, if you'd prefer separate threads no sweat just lmk ♥

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James

Lowtown

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Kain

Fenris

Lowtown

Docks

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