HAPPY HOLI | OPEN TO ALL

[shri]

WHO: EVERYONE, A BIG OLD OPEN PARTY LOG
WHAT: Happy Holi! The Festival of Colours, and Lakshmi's open invite to the whole Inquisition to come drink and have fun as part of her on going "see, rifter's aren't scary, we're great."
WHEN: A bright sunny afternoon now that winter is staring to come to an end.
WHERE: A open storage building on the Kirkwall docks that has been dressed up to the nines.
NOTES: This is one big open party log for anyone to come in. Everyone is getting very publicly invited, but with understanding you aren't going to start nothing. Some of the food is laced with weed elfroot, and there is booze. But people will be warned ahead of time ( unless your character would eat it by accident. )

HAPPY HOLI

Lakshmi's invitation is not strictly formal outside from a few certain higher ups, but regardless of whether it's a delivered letter with gold lettering, or Lakshmi's voice chattering over the network, it amounts to the same: Lakshmi is holding a party, a big one this time. The dress code is comfortable, white clothing, or another light colour as suited. Then the time of arrival, around lunch time. An afternoon affair to make the best of the first warm spring days, and remember that after all, the dawn will come, even after winter's as miserable as those spent in the aftermath Ghislain.

The hall, when they arrive, is decked out, not like Orlais neat curling filigree, or Fereldon's sturdy brick and block shapes. No, there is colour everywhere. Rich swaths of fabric that are perhaps not expensive silk, but they seem to have been dyed many colours and strung across the walls, tapestries where the point is in the boldness. Tables against the walls with food on them, and strewn with petals. Heaped up in piles as if to ensure no amount of food went unadorned by them. On another table, is stacked trays of powder, in every colour, that smell faintly sweet.

It even looks, for the moment, neat. Like a bride done up for her wedding day.

Lakshmibai herself is dressed no different at the door, and graciously meets anyone, whether she knows them or not, exactly the same way.

She lifts a silver plate, adorned with petals, coloured powder, a small cone of incense and an oil wick burning, balanced in one hand. Her smile is glad to see whoever it is that comes up, and - regardless of their position, station, friend or foe, those white clothes don't last long. After greetings are said and done, she lifts up that coloured powder, and tosses it over them, one loose flick and then lifting her hand to rub it against their cheek, with a peal of brilliant laughter to go with it, welcoming them in.

No one is going to survive the day unscathed from an infectiously good mood if she has anything to do with it.

Additionally, Lakshmi's many helpers can be seen already in the room - doing just that, helping. With food, drink, music, pointing out to what certain things are for and so on. They're a motley bunch, themselves. Mages, Rifters, Nobles, Commoners, Vints, Orlesians, Soldiers, Elves, Humans. There is even, amongst the first to arrive, and clearly Lakshmi's special guest, a Chantry Mother herself, and with her Lakshmi hopes, the assurance that everything is above board.

Hiranyakashyap

Once enough people have arrived and clothes on their way to being ruined - Lakshmi finds the small stand set up to give her brief speech. Few words today, at least. Why this holiday, in particular - could not be better. Welcomes given, not only to her guests but especially to her helpers who pitched in, as well as the thanks to the Inquisition for allowing her to do this. There is then a brief explanation of what people are to do - simple really, eat, drink, dance, and throw the coloured powder at each other. Have a good time, with no expectations but being kind to each other in that.

The story is brief, what it is that Holi itself celebrates and it could not be more pertinent. Of the Demon King, Hiranyakashyap, who had grown conceited. He demanded everyone worship him and become their new God. But his son was faithful. His son refused to worship a tyrant. Even when he was tricked to step into the fire by his wicked Aunt, the sister of the Demon King, his faith protected him, and instead, his Aunt perished. Then the Demon King Hiranyakashyap was slain by Lord Krishna, and Holi was first celebrated in the triumph of Good over Evil. That they all, no matter how different, wished to fight evil beings like Corypheus and see their downfall.

LET THE CELEBRATIONS BEGIN

- And with the sombreness of it done, Lakshmi declares the celebration to have begun with a cheer, and in the most obvious way possible to everyone present. She takes her plate of powder, and throws the entire tray of it with the help of Myr's glyphs, it explodes into the air, and showers down over everyone in a shower of bright magenta and blue. Coating everyone in the fine, brightly coloured powder. With it, the music strikes up, loud, echoing in the small room. Nothing genteel, but heavy with drums, fiddles and bold singing.



time to get into the mood

It starts off slowly, and Lakshmi at least knows that people are shy the first time at anything. So performers dance amongst guests, tossing coloured powder, acrobats that perform tricks, bending and twisting and flipping through the audience. Petals that are tossed about as freely as the powder, until the air is sweet with it and the food and drink do their job on the guests and it becomes a far louder, boisterous affair.

Around the edges of the room are plates with the powder on it, and it's very clear what to do with it. Take a handful, and throw it at someone. Per Lakshmi's explanation, that everything is done in good faith. Old fights are put aside in the name of some harmless fun. ( But don't get too rowdy, Lakshmi herself will be after you like a mother after wayward children if anyone turns it to violence. ) There is also at given points, a brief bit of organisation for a colour toss, where everyone throws handfuls into the air of the same colour at the same time.

Soon enough, people are throwing handfuls of the powder. Younger more boisterous ones chasing after each other to mash it into each others hair, clothes, leaving brilliant handprints on each other's clothes that are as quickly mattered into another colour that they might catch. It's not as it turns out, a very hard celebration to get into the hang of. The music drowns out anyone but the most determined, and as the afternoon wears on, it spills out into the front of the street. Another important part of Holi is what is called Playing Holi, which is a very informal way of saying flirting and teasing with someone you might have had your eye on for awhile. This is a very good excuse to get your hands all over someone you like and play around with them in an open way. But oh my, nothing too forward, there are children present. Maybe you can find someone for the night in this mess.

Infectiously happy, singing drinking songs loudly, couples dancing. Perhaps with friends, or with the acrobats or just by themselves. Something grand to be happy with. Whether it's out inside the room proper, or outside on the street where...

WATER FIGHT

There are barrels of clean water, with bowls on it, and maybe it's Lakshmi that starts it, or someone else, but it quickly devolves into its true purpose. Throwing water at each other. With people filling into the hall, the dancing, the stickiness of the powder that might have gotten in your mouth, and you wanted to splash yourself at least a little clean or cool down. Maybe a friend tips it on you, maybe you're caught in the crossfire, or you're just dunking your head into the water first.

For all the dancing, it's a good relief, and a fun way to get back at someone who might have gotten you with a particularly unflattering shade of powder.

WHAT'S IN THIS DRINK...?

Maybe after all that dancing and running around, you might want to have something to eat.

There is a lot to chose from. Some of it is familiar Thedosian fair. Plates of common street food, wine, beer & spirits, all available. Stacked up high, for all members of the Inquisition to have. It's not grand, but it's hearty, and it's fresh, and - whoever turned down free food. Or for those interested in trying something new, Lakshmi has cooked as well, a huge amount of her homelands dishes. To a similar vein, street dishes that are quick to eat and are rich in taste. They smell just as good as they look, stuff full of vegetables and spices.

But that's not all, for those that are brave enough, or just looking for a good time, a certain section of drinks, milky, frothy and spicey as well, there is certain substances mixed into it. A healthy amount of elfroot (thanks Medicine Seller) has been mixed in per tradition. Whilst not quite Bhaang, but it's enough to give you a buzz and make those colours seem extra fun. Just... be careful how much you drink.

THE KING OF HOLI

One of the organised activities is the person crowned as the King of Holi.

Far up high, strung between two pillars, with a pot of milk hung in the middle. The mission, should you and your inebriated friends chose to accept, is to form a human ladder, pyramid, oblong, or however it works for you, and climb to get the pot. When someone gets up, they have to bang the pot with their head to get it down.

The person who does this - gets a special prize: A crown of leaves, and one of Lakshmi's solid gold and jewelled bangles, and are crowned the informal King of Holi to the cheering crowd.

BURN, BABY, BURN

Usually, it is the wicked Aunt, Holika, that has her image burned the night before Holi.

But this time, there is someone far more pertinent to make the image and then throw into the fires that burn in the braziers around the room. There are stuffed straw dolls of Corypheus available for you to make and then decorate to your heart's content to be as hideous as you want.

Then gleefully throw into the fire.

It is meant for an activity more of children to enjoy, a simple, light-hearted activity - or as can be expected in wartime. But there is no one stopping anyone venting some of their frustration's post-Ghislain at the little figure.

ALL GOOD THINGS

Eventually, the party winds down towards the end of the evening, and it's time to go wash up. Clean your now ruined clothes and scrub it out of your hair. If asked, Lakshmi gives the helpful tip of a making sure to scrub all the way down to your scalp with a oil to help stop the staining.

But there is every chance tomorrow when you roll out of your bed, probably some bit of you is still stained. Hopefully, all in good fun.

Comments

KING OF HOLI - BREAK THE POT

[shri]

Trying to break the pot? Team up here especially to try your luck.

I just can't wait to be king

[sulahnan]

[ It's a toss-up as to whether or not this would be easier sober. More coordinated, sure, but it's always easier to do things without that pesky voice of reason telling you not to do something. Ingest enough substances and you'll be doing the thing even before you can think about if you should. ]

Right. [ Clap for emphasis. Also for emphasis: point at random people as if you're the boss. The biggest ones first, then gradually smaller. ]

We're going to need the truly jacked individuals to form the base, some medium-jacked on top of them, jacked-lite next, and I'll form the head--I mean I'll head-butt the pot--I mean I'll be the King.

magni — ota.

[villieldr]

— colour burst.
She is dressed fully in white, as her lady requested. A departure from her usual dress, certainly, but though she is adequately covered to satisfy the basic sense of Chantry decency, where there is no cloth she is coated in white Avvar war paint, and in the small breaks of that it is possible to make out geometric black tattoos across parts of her back, shoulders, abdomen and upper arms. Her hair, pale blonde that it is, is partially braided up but much of it falls about her shoulders.

When the gylph throws colour into the air she looks up curiously, smearing some of the dust landing on her across her skin, so blue and magenta streaks across her shoulder, and smiles a little more widely.

Soon she is grabbing up a handful of the magenta powder, tossing it into the air so it clouds in the air about her.


— water fight.
Magni is very big.
Very strong.

Which makes picking up an entire barrel of water and making the contents arc through the air to entirely douse some very easy. There’s a very slight smile, and she goes to get another barrel.

Godspeed :]


— for lakshmi.
This is an important day for Manikarnika, and the brightness and vibrancy of it— is bittersweet, in some ways. This is part of what her Jhansi was to her, of what is home, and to have a chance to see even a glimpse of that within Thedas is a blessing. A vision of life across the Land of Dreams, a gift beyond it being a chance to learn more of her lady and her country.

One side of her jaw is smeared with blue powder, and despite the colours that have burst over her there are still expanses of white across her. The air seems smokey with the powder still hanging in it, and the crowd is a press of brilliance and energy. Through that haze, Magni watches Manikarnika. From where she was leaning against a wall, Magni straightens up and sets down her drink, starting to move closer. Not directly to her, and not yet in sight, keeping lower than she would normally stand so she can start a slow, drawn out pursuit, ducking behind a pillar when she sees Lakshmi begin to move in a way that might suggest she’ll look towards Magni.


— wildcard.
Feel free to pp me at karmacharging or pm me if you want to chat about ideas, or just totally chuck an idea at me.

Also! Brackets or prose are fine, I’ll match whatever suits you.

wildcard (no reply required, depends on what u want)

[altusimperius]

He glimpses her once, while still dealing with the upset of having powder thrown all over his person-- but at the same time, perhaps, Benedict hopes, that will make him a little harder to recognize.

He only meets Magni's eyes long enough to register that it's her, then slips away in the other direction, heart pounding. No need to venture anywhere near that one, not today.

[villieldr]

She had stung Manikarnika, she fears, with the assertion that the avian was not worthy of the regard and faith that she afforded him, that he had done nothing to win the softness of her heart that belonged to the dear ones she had lost. Kindly meant as the caution had been, it still left a wound.

When he catches her gaze, turns and moves to flee, she doesn’t quite grimace. You almost killed him, she had been reprimanded, when killing and throttling had never been her plan, only to scare and silence. No wonder the boy was fleeing, after that, but it was a misreading of her intentions that she would sooner remedy - if only because Lakshmi urged her grant the boy a little more kindness.

Magni moves around the outskirts of the crowd, keeping him in her periphery, until she steps through a cloud of magenta powder and directly into his path.

“Benedict.”

water fight

[youwonscience]

Cosima wasn't even looking in Magni's direction until a split-second before she was suddenly soaked. She isn't even sure exactly how to react at first, coughing a bit to clear her nose and mouth; she takes off her glasses to dry them and realizes none of her clothes are going to be any help at all.

And then she laughs, just... shaking her head. Honestly, good job, blurry shape who threw that much water at a go. Impressive.

[villieldr]

Easily, she tosses the barrel to the side, chuckling under her breath as she moves to one of the bowls, and grasps a handful of blue powder, dipping her fingers into it and—

Oh, but her glasses.

A look down at her hands, equipped to decorate rather than to clean, and she exhales slowly. Not quite a deflation, just an oh.

"Maybe there's..." a clean cloth? Somewhere in this sea of nothing very clean? "Some straw?"

you know

[kyrr]

This is all novel for Tofa.

For a long time, she does not know what to do with herself. She flits here and there, watching people from the outskirts, a looming giant of a woman who cannot seem to find a place in the midst of all the joy and celebrating. Her eyes are wide and flicking and she breathes out, hesitant for a moment before she decides to turn herself away and move elsewhere, walking around and reaching out. Slow, careful fingers wrap around Magni's wrist, an anchor for the moment.

For someone who is used to quiet and intensity and she shuffles a little closer.

Magni will understand, she thinks. Tofa needs something to do, something to anchor her, something to make her feel as though she fits in somehow. A tilt of her head and raise of her brow should be enough to let her sister know the sharp nudge of anxiety at the pit of her stomach.

[villieldr]

She appreciates how hard it is for Tofa to be here. Magni feels comfortable moreso because this is of Lakshmi's design, a testament to her home and what is precious to her. The press of people and loudness, certainly, remains displeasing. At least she has had the advantage of being in Kirkwall and amongst the Inquisition longer, the chance to adapt.

Her hand lays over Tofa's for a moment, steadying. Not drawing attention to her discomfort, just reminding her that she knows, that she is here, that they are always stronger together.

Other things they are become moreso in each other's company: efficient, dangerous, mischievous.

A very slight smile curls the corners of her mouth, and she slowly reaches for the vibrant powders, grasping a mix of blue and magenta together, so that when she turns to look to her sister to reassure her—

she just presses the mix of powders onto her face, and slowly drags it down, smiling brightly. A heavy block of bright pink and blue and the blur of purple between them goes from just past Tofa's hairline and down to her chin.

:) love u sis

[shri]

But Lakshmi is not looking - no, Lakshmi, is doing what the day was designed for, she is dancing most avidly. Her hands raised above her head, clapping brightly to the beat, her shoulders shifting to the movement. Hair tossed back in a long great mane stained many different colours.

She is enjoying herself, quite thoroughly, on the mix of drink and elfroot, and it is expressed in the comfortable obliviousness in that. Dancing and moving freely with the whole roll of her body. Skin well and truly painted as rich as an artist's canvas.

[villieldr]

Magni, herself, is no dancer. She moves with certainty, but in place of that artful strength that Lakshmi has (and she's no doubt that it is strength and speed and control twined together) she has force and momentum. Ill-fitted to this. Watching, though, she has seen the way Lakshmi dances, the way she sways, the arch and roll of her body. Enticing and pressed close to others, certainly, but Magni doesn't begrudge her the dance with others, not when she knows their place in one another's hearts.

Her gaze is intent as she watches that dark hair all hazy with colour, like the mountain waterfalls when the sun burst from the clouds and struck them just so. Shimmering bands of colour. So much of Lakshmi seemed to be one with the sun, really.

Magni stays apart, watching, moving around the crowd and circling slowly, slowly closer.

Julius (OTA - brackets or prose is fine)

[overharrowed]

Celebrations

Julius is generally not one to miss an opportunity to build some connections, though when he'd heard "party," he hadn't really pictured anything quite like the reality. Still, he's not displeased based on his faint smile as he circulates. He's not dancing, thus far, but he's good-naturedly participating in the color exchange, leaving a smudge of blue-green across his cheek without worrying about wiping it away.

It also seems a good opportunity to say hello to those he's not met without it seeming odd, or to circle back to those he hasn't spoken to in some time. There's no reason he can't multitask enjoying the festivities and pressing a few hands when the opportunity arises.

Refreshment

Once the party has worn on for some time, he makes his way to the refreshments, especially curious about the rifter fare. It is possible that a Fereldan palate does not entirely prepare one, though he's certainly more intrigued than put off. When he asks, "Have you tried this?" he hasn't even looked up yet to see who he's asking.

Wildcard

DM me or hit me up at prettiestwhistles if you want to plan something out.

[sarcophage]

This fellow over here, the one already wearing a few bright streaks about the arms and shoulders—and a trace of similar blue across his nose, mostly wiped off—he's just turning back around from a parting comment over his shoulder when he doesn't collide with the owner of a strikingly familiar face, only glimpses it in profile just before it turns away from him. Fortunately, he has the presence of mind to transform this accidental non-accident into an intentional non-accident before another body fills the space between them—

Which he does by reaching to grasp the back of Julius's arm. (Hopefully he wanted a lively red print there.)

"Enchanter?"

You may remember this kid from such past lives as Kinloch Hold, Before Everything Went Mad. He was of course smaller then, dainty and awkward as a fawn just learning its legs, but still: Leander, who was very interested in glyphs, over a decade later, alive and all grown up.

[overharrowed]

"...Leander." There's a pause, right after Julius first turns, but the name isn't a question when he says. "It's good to see you," immediately follows, warm enough that it's likely true.

(Given how the recent discussion of the Divine Election went, Leander may be his favorite ex-student in Kirkwall at the moment by default.)

"Maker, it's been a long time. Have you been in Kirkwall long?" Of all the ways they could cross paths again, this is among one of the better choices. He'd rather here, this way, than during an illness or an attack or one of the other ways the Gallows' residents end up thrown together in unusual configurations.

The Medicine Seller | OTA

[meds4sale]

Celebrations---

The Medicine Seller didn't have much of anything in plain white. He didn't have much of anything in plain, to be honest. He did manage to dig out a pale, peach yellow yukata, sparsely patterned with little white blossoms, and a vibrant red sash - that would have to about do it. For once he wore little adornments save for the mirror he always had around his neck, and the jeweled pins that kept his hair piled on top of his head.

He'd come with some last minute sacks of pigment powder that hadn't been quite ready when the rest had been picked up. He took them from the top compartment of his medicine box and stowed behind the tables with the powders already on display.

He was, of course, happy to toss powder with alarming accuracy (and velocity), favouring the vibrant magenta and greens.

Water Fight---

There are a few things the Medicine Seller doesn't like and that's soggy clothes. Soggy clothes that were also covered in pigmented potato starch was even more unpleasant, so he could be found weaving through the throng to find a nice warm place to dry off.

Being soggy is one thing. Being drenched is another when he's managed to weave his way right into the crossfire of several people tossing bowls of water at each other. He only had a split second to contemplate the blunder before he was dripping a rainbow puddle on the floor.

Snack Time---

Having emotions was, apparently, exhausting work, and now it was time to enjoy his favourite thing about parties - fucking off to the sidelines to eat and people-watch. He really is in a right state - usually any dishevelment on his part has a deliberate air about it. But there he is, his jeweled hairpins having long fallen out in the chaos and tucked safely in his sash, his yukata once quite plain now as vibrant as his normal attire, and his long hair damp and stained with yellows, blues, and magentas.

He looks quite pleased with himself while nibbling on some cakes and sipping on something spicy, especially when someone remarks that the drinks are stronger than they expected.

snax

[altusimperius]

The Medicine Seller's dismay over the state of his person is entirely shared by a fairly uncomfortable-looking-- is that Benedict?-- who slinks to the snack table and glances over it with the jealous paranoia of a spurned lover. Spying that self-satisfied look, he steps closer to whisper, somewhat accusingly, "did you put something in the drinks?"

turns up late with starbucks for snack time

[seaboard]

She has been making her way along the walls. It was a nice place to come, to see for herself how things were. Perhaps even a little, she might want to join in for once. Not for the colour which is so much for her, but the dancing. She missed dancing, on the beach, this has that tinge of wild abandon to it that is so achingly familiar.

But, instead, and ever reserved from it, she instead looks for a familiar face to distract her.

And finds him, and with it, she comes up beside him. Her hands clapping along with the beat. "Hello, Master Seller, are you enjoying today?"

Benedict ota

[altusimperius]

Empowderment (mostly for Lakshmi)

Not long after the party begins, there's a sound that rings from the doorway not unlike a startled puppy: it's apparently what happens when one tells Benedict to wear entirely white, he does, and then he has a bowl of powder thrown onto his pristine (and NOT INEXPENSIVE) clothing.
He stands there looking down at himself, at his hands, then up at Lakshmi, eyes filled with tragic disbelief at this utter betrayal. I Trusted You

Throwing Shit Around

Once the damage is done, it's done, and one can hardly walk from one end of the room to another without being smothered in more power. It's awful, and yet... even Benedict has to admit some of the resulting patterns have a beauty to them, and he spends far more time just looking around than he does actually participating (part of this is to ensure as few people touch him as possible, which, you know, is a reasonable precaution).
Periodically he'll scoop up a small pile of the stuff and toss it directly upward, giving it a little puff of magic with his other hand, distributing it out over the crowd like falling pollen. He doesn't hate it.
He'll never admit that.

A Watery End

As entertaining as this has ultimately been, there's absolutely no way Benedict is walking back, let alone taking the ferry to the Gallows, looking like this. He's a bit more sparsely colorized than some of the others, but no one was truly spared, which means it's time to clean himself up as best he can with what's left of the water in the barrels.
As people make their goodbyes, he's occupied with washing, stone sober and still maintaining a wary distance from most of the partygoers.

[shri]

And Lakshmi - like only a wizened mother can - has absolutely no mercy for that betrayed look.

No, no, in fact, with a handful of powder, she comes closer. Leans in, and briskly kisses one cheek, then smears it with powder, and then kisses the other, following it afterwards.

"Happy Holi, Benedict."

And once more, for good measure, she throws a handful of powder over the top of him again with a bright, clear laugh.

lakshmibai - ota

[shri]

MEET AND GREET
At least, to begin with, Lakshmi is an immaculate woman for the festivities at the door. Her clothes white and gold, every bit of her decorated, she hangs with gold and flowers and jewels of her homeland. Her brow is marked with her customary red half moon, with another dot above it, and her hands are stained with the plant-ink she had found from the dalish, a bright red on each fingertip with a deep red circle painted on the middle of her palm. Her smile for today is earnest - she is excited. More than excited. Every part of that joy resplendent on her features. No, she would not be trapped in mourning for the home she could not see. It would live, proud, in her bones, it would never be taken from her. She would show it every day, that she could and was free to without shame.

And with it, she will be welcoming. Any question is answered, that is asked in good faith. Explaining the meaning of the colours, of parts of the story of Holi. Encouraging people to eat and drink and be merry.

You can grab her at any time, moving around the room like that. Sipping her milk drinks, because no, it is not bhaang, but she is familiar enough to hold it well, her steps long. Less a hardened warrior for once - even if through the sheer material of her draped saree, on her body bears the marks of mother and warrior both. Finally a day warm enough to show herself off. Offering not just a drink, but to share the drink from her own cup. Holding it up - Queen she might be. But this was not that sort of pride. It is affection freely given with all of herself.

WHEN I SAW YOU DANCING...
She hasn't danced since Saturnalia, and then, like now, there is one truth: she has missed it.

In the haze of drink and drug, she finds relief in it. As good as fighting, in its way, to push her body as hard and as long as she might in intricate steps. She doesn't seem to mind if she has a partner or not. Doesn't seem to mind that her steps - they aren't a country reel or a refined waltz. But they are no less intricate. Her body rolls smooth, pushing up with a strike of her foot, to roll up with hip, her waist, her chest, her head flicking with it. Her long, flower laded hair whips with it. It's gotten long now, so easily reaching her knees at this point.

By this point, her white clothes are ruined, and she certainly doesn't care. No, she invites anyone who wants to get her back for covering her in powder. Doing it herself, when she takes a handful, striking it against her belly, smearing up her own skin, against her neck.

Or, at times, if she catches someone unsure, she leans forward, catching their hands with hers, and dragging them into the mess of the dance, with her. Encouraging them to mimic her movements, if they don't seem to know what to do, or mimicking theirs if they will show them.

But perhaps maybe, you know her well enough, and it is called playing holi for a reason, should she be fond enough of you, sure that you won't trip over steps. She'll beckon her finger to call the person in close, guide them to press in close to her, and let their hands settle on her hips. Let them move with her, against her, leading, of course, but with the bare skin of her hips and stomach, that far too enticing roll of her hips that curves around. Hopefully, not too much of a sting of pride to let her do it when given so sweetly.

THIS ADDICTION OF CREAM SHALL BE EXPENSIVE FOR YOU
There is one (1) rebel queen, that is eyeing you across the room. She's scooped up powder in both her hands and is prowling, almost tiger-like. Even if in this case, the jungle floor is people, and she could almost be disguised not by stripes, but under all this colour and powder, as just someone else.

You might be enjoying a drink or talking with a friend - but she sneaks up behind the person in question - with a laughing shout - and smears the colour against their cheeks. "Happy Holi!"

Better get her back while she is still laughing.

WILDCARD
Got an idea you wanna do? GO FOR IT.

wildcard!

[rathercommon]

"So what's the point of it all?"

Kitty, of course, is an odd sort of girl - irreverent when solemnity is called for, solemn in the face of fun. She's watchful at this party, her dark eyes taking in everything and anything, an anthropologist's keenness in her gaze.

"Holidays, they're supposed to teach a lesson of some sort, aren't they. What lesson's this one supposed to teach?"

haaaaappy hooolliii

[aenseidhe]

[ light clothes, she tells all those she invites, and while iorveth is far from someone who takes any kind of pleasure at all in shopping, he does go out trying to find the most Ofieri looking garment in a light shade that he can. nothing very intricate, but the idea is that this is a holiday from her homeland, a place he's heard to be of rich tradition, and iorveth would rather immerse himself in respect of her culture than stand out from it. it's one of the things he's always despised about humanity: so unwilling to let go of their own predispositions and lifestyles and live as someone else for a time, yet they trampled over the continent forcing all other races to bend to fite their world order and religions.

but now isn't a time for despising. the place is a painting of vibrant color and life, enough to take his breath away, and iorveth's awash in it when the festivities begin. after getting a few drinks in him (he knows the elfroot by now, and his limits), iorveth's off to chase some friends around, throwing colored powder and cackling when he gets in a good hit, or someone smacks him in the chest with bright yellow or magenta. there's some kids from the alienage he spends a good time playing with, even picking one up and using them as a shield against the others while they all squeal and laugh. the kids in the alienage aren't so standoffish as the adults, and iorveth's made a few little buddies in his time living there.

there isn't much dancing done (still a little too joyful for serah scowly face), but our one (1) rebel queen will find him taking a breather between playing with children and pegging people from the Inquisition he has some annoyance with or another form afar, vanishing before they spot him. he's midway through another drink when her hands smack brilliant powder against his cheeks. it takes everything in him not to spit his drink out, raising up a hand with a smile he's trying so, so hard to suppress, before he makes himself swallow. ]

And issuance of war, is it? [ asked with an arched brow and a grin, long, wild hair falling in his face, as he's since rolled his bandanna into more of a line of cloth diagonal across his face than a headscarf, for the sake of letting his hair pick up a mess of color. grabbing up a handful of green powder nearby, iorveth lurks for her, determined to deposit the entire handful atop her head. ]

playing holi bc reasons

[sclavus]

Attending parties that don't involve stalking around shirtless in front of a wagon this his idiot men painted "The Walrus" on while wearing skeletal face paint is not something Charles usually gets up to, but, this is Lakshmi's party. Lakshmi, who's been there practically any time he's needed an extra hand on deck, who's (strangely) trusted him with her personal safety, who's spent pretty much every conversation they've had either flirting or teasing or some combination of both with him.

Also, Lakshmi who is the most gorgeously fearsome thing on a battlefield that he's seen in a while. Let no one say civilization has dulled the danger boner in Charles Vane even a little.

Suffice to say, when he spots her from where he is, covered head to toe in magenta, yellow, orange, green, blue, every color that there is, hair hanging loose in a technicolored mess, he's easily following the beckoning finger in, stepping up close, with hands finding Lakshmi's hips easily. The rough calluses of his fingers brush over the bare skin at her sides, slipping around to the small of her back to pull her in close, feeling the roll of her hips against his through thin, light fabric. He's happy to let her lead - it's her world's dance, after all, and he can pick up on it well enough not to step on her feet.

There's nothing spoken, as the grin on his lips, the slow blink of his eyes and the heavy lids say much more than he cares to have words for.

dancing

[dirth]

It has been a long time since Solas has taken part in anything like this; it reminds him of the bright, wonderful world that is Arlathan before the Fall of the People, with great parties and celebrations that make him feel as though he has been transported back in time. He can't imagine being invited to it, necessarily, but he knows Lakshmi - and it seems to be a more open thing than something that might necessitate a particular invitation or promise. Solas goes because he is curious, if nothing else, even if he doesn't expect much.

He manages to avoid getting covered in powder for the most part, mostly because of the stern looks he manages to give people.

Of course, he gets dragged into it all the same. He's stepping through the crowds when Lakshmi's fingers wrap around his and tug him forward, his eyes narrowing as he looks at her. There's an awkwardness to him, not sure where to put his hands even as she guides and moves him, eyes narrowing before he laughs and shakes his head. At least he won't make too much of a fool of himself with her to guide him.

Solas is a little more adept at dancing than he might appear, and his head tilts as he looks at her.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Meet and Greet

[thorndergod]

He'd sent the servants back to the estate once setup was complete, and for once is left feeling underdressed. His red, black, and gold robes, embroidered, are not as patterned as his host's, and golden rings and bracelets aren't her elaborate layers of necklaces.... but that is fair. She's the host.

Thor approaches her and bows his head, smiling already.

"So tell me. What is this holiday about? What is the meaning behind it?"