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.

Threaded | Flat

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

Lowtown

Fingon acquires a bird mask sometime during the celebrations, but throughout the festival it's his new harp that he takes wherever he goes. At first it's just to learn, to hear the songs of Thedas and begin to pick them up, but soon he's improvising on his own and sure enough in his repertoire to busk in Lowtown's crowded streets.

But late into the nights, when many of the revelers have sought their beds and the rest are too hungover to care, the songs he turns to are the ones he knows best. He fills those last hours with the music of Arda, and of Elvenhome in the West, and for a few moments lets himself miss home.

Edited 2017-11-06 07:56 (UTC)

Lowtown

Even if he had been reminded numerous times, Sam still feels that Satinalia had snuck up on him; had it already been a year already? Again? It's because of this that he finds himself rushing to get all his gifts together to hand out.

During the day he mostly spends his time at the infirmary, checking on patients to make sure they were well enough to go out for the celebration, and if they were not then made sure they at least had some treats - the children of course got a bit more and some toys to play with.

The evening is for himself though. He doesn't dress up, his attire simple, but he does don a mask to be in the spirit of things - it does little to conceal who he actually is, an old half mask from a previous party, but he felt it needed some use. Sam mostly keeps to the streets - a little wary still of the taverns - enjoying foods and beverage being offered at the stalls.

Threaded | Flat

Korrin

Medicine Seller - Open

Beleth Ashara | Open

Cade

James

Lowtown