faderift | [ open: hello again, riftwatch ]

WHO: Sonia Barra and you!
WHAT: Celebrating her glorious return to the Riftwatch by puttering around the Gallows, doing a bit of work, making new friends. Won’t you sit for a drink?
WHEN: this week ish
WHERE: the Gallows, mostly
NOTES: Sonia’s info page is here!

It's been a long year since Sonia last saw Kirkwall, and all too much change to her little world. To the wider world, too, though in the months of tending to her dying grandfather, the world had seemed to shrink down to the halls of Wildcrest manor. There was a whole microcosm in that house, and it had undergone such violent change in the last year, twisted and bent and broken into new shapes that filled every corner with tension. If her uncle had been difficult and unpleasant as heir, he had become intolerable as bann. He had made perfectly clear how he felt about how she spent her time: that it was a waste, that she ought to be better serving her family, that with so few of them left, she was an embarrassment to the family name. No matter how much she insists to herself that she does not care all that much what her uncle thinks of her, she had burned with indignation. He thinks she is useless, and she hates to be thought of as useless; more than that, she hates the thought that someone might press her into some usefulness she wants no part of.

So she has come back to Kirkwall. She found herself missing it more often than she expected in the last year, and not just for the company of her cousin. There's something fresh and bracing in the air to her here, a feeling full of potential; a touch too romantic, perhaps, but it keeps the light in her. There's nothing she could really do at home, with her father and uncle waging their private political struggle, but here, she can do something useful. Here, she feels like there is room for her to grow.

...Or at least that’s how she would feel if it weren’t for the very grim mood that’s settled over everything. This is not how she remembers Kirkwall, but then, a world of change has happened here, too. She is also realizing just how much she had taken for granted the cleanliness of her childhood home. Misery, thy name is grime.

The mood may be low, but she had been looking forward to coming back, and she refuses to let her buoyant spirit be completely drowned. After all, she has brought with her a cellar’s worth of wine—some of the very latest vintages from Wildcrest’s vineyards—and she is never too dispirited to make new friends. Riftwatch, here she comes.

gallows
She spends her free time in various idle pursuits: most frequently, those pursuits are excellently paired with wine, and when possible, good company. Talking is one of Sonia’s favorite ways to pass the time, and if someone catches her interest, she’s not above coaxing them into a drink or two and some interesting conversation. Doubly so if they’re an old acquaintance she hasn’t seen since she was last here. Please, do, come sit—there’s always something to talk about.

Painting has always been a retreat for her, but in this weather, the scenery here is so glum that more often than not she finds herself frustrated with her subjects. Maybe she’ll find something a little more dynamic to paint than the water if she wanders around a bit. If she’s given up on artistic pursuits for the day, she could be found in the library, struggling through what looks like a spectacularly boring collection of political histories. Never in her life until now has Sonia tried to read something for any other reason than fun, and it’s so boring it might kill her.

The constant grime in this weather makes a long soak in the baths all too appealing, too. When everything else seems cold and gray, the warm embrace of the water is a deep comfort. Hauling water up for a private bath is hardly worth it; instead, Sonia can be found with almost exacting predictability at the communal baths every night when there’s hot water. She’s found it to be a pleasant venue for conversation, as well. She isn’t particularly shy.

work (of a sort)
Sonia is here to help, and help she shall. Granted, she had pictured herself doing something a little more glamorous than gruelingly tiresome patrols and dusting off shelves in abandoned towers. Right, that’s the work that needs to be done, and she’s not too proud to do it—but she is not above a little complaining when it’s particularly dull, and perhaps does not engage in the best of behaviors when the trip promises to be especially boring. A little flask of wine tucked away for a very dull patrol in unfriendly weather, for instance. That’s never hurt anyone, has it? It could even liven things up after a long day of chasing vermin out of dark corners and inhaling more dust than is probably medically advisable.

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"Isn't he charming enough? And I suppose his taste in wine is well and good, and there's something roguishly clever about him at times. Those are the few I can think of without being entirely disgusting with my affection."

She does have to play up the idea of it being a love match on her side, as much as Byerly plays with the idea of it being for status and power on his. It doesn't matter that he likely has more power than she does now - at the time it was a gamble she was willing to take, and it played out quite well for her. It's better than fretting about her future all over again, or wondering what she might do with herself and her idle, thoughtless desires.

"We all speak ill of him at time, do we not?" Sidony waves her hand idly. Head tilted, she hesitates before she breathes out and nods her head. "Many imagine our marriage to be... Something that it is altogether not, but I would not lie and say I do not care for him, that I do not love him." It is simply that the love she has for him is more akin to that of a sister to a brother, rather than wife to husband. "He is one of the dearest and most important people in my life and I imagine I would do almost anything to keep him in happiness."

This is...a strange moment. While Sonia knows Byerly has plenty of friends (in his own way, in varying flavors of sardonic), she knows that people who care for him like this -- truly and fully, without reservation -- are rare. Perhaps she had been flattering herself to think she was the only one, but rather than a spike of jealousy, Sonia feels...indescribably happy. She beams, batting her eyelashes to fend off even the notion of tears.

"You and I both," Sonia says, and holds out a hand for Sidony to clasp -- not in greeting, this time, but solidarity. "But enough about that lovable lout. I know plenty about him already." Although she is certainly learning more. "I'd like to know more about you."

It's clear that whatever motivation there might have been for their marriage - scandal and protection mixed together in some awkward, platonic desperation that she could never truly manage to thank him for - Sidony does love Byerly. He has been beyond good to her, faithful and wonderful both, and though she knows she can get cross with him at times (and he with her) she would not do without him. She would never choose to do without him either.

It's very easy, then, to reach out and embrace what family Byerly has left.

"About me?" Coy, playing an all too familiar game. "Oh, my dear lady, what would you like to know?"

"Oh, only everything," Sonia says, batting her eyes playfully at Sidony. "Don't worry, we can skip all the tedious middle-talk and building-up. I only want to know the important things -- whether you like to swim, your favorite place to watch the sunset, what kinds of books you like to read. You look like someone who reads books."

"So not much at all, then, I see." Sidony does feel a smile settling on her face, though, even as she reaches to adjust her skirts, giving her time to feel quite pleased with herself. Even now she does welcome and cherish the attention. "I read a great deal of medical books, dreadfully boring to most. I am Head Surgeon."

"Oh, to the contrary. We only ever like to think about the big parts of ourselves, but we are all made of little things. It is in the little things we find our true selves." Sonia gives her a lopsided grin, and it's hard to tell how serious she's being, but she does seem to be sincere about it. Her eyes brighten with interest.

"Head Surgeon? Really? Then meeting you is twice the honor." Oh, something she didn't know. Fascinating. The impressed look is genuine -- Sonia has great respect for experts in medicine, precisely because she finds it incomprehensible. "But certainly they aren't boring to you. What do you like about them?"

"That was almost poetic. It must be a family trait." To wax lyrical and mean something, to use words coyly, cleverly, wonderfully - Sidony has seen much the same in Byerly, and not just once. He is a marvel; there's no reason why his cousin might not also be marvellous as well. It's more than just a little entertaining.

Settling, she doesn't bother attempting to hide her pleased smirk.

"I enjoy learning about the human body," she admits, voice quiet. "I am keen to be the best in my field, to prove that one does not need magic to be useful to healing."

"Almost? Ah, I must be losing my edge to all the dust."

Sonia watches every turn of Sidony's expression with interest and delight. Byerly aside, Sonia thinks she would have been delighted to meet this woman under any context. There is much, much more here than the subject of a scandal.

"A truly noble pursuit," she says, the irreverence gone from her voice. "The pursuit of perfection in pursuit of the good of all." She smiles slightly. "It would take a fool to underestimate you, I think."

"You must work a little harder to earn my favour."

It's a tease, of course - Sidony is already half-won and she isn't certain how she feels about it. She feels quite content to relax some of her posture, to let her eyes drag over Sonia as she considers the situation they're in. Byerly will have to be informed, of course, and she'll have to do something to bring them all together. That'll be amusing.

"Thank you," she allows, her smile more genuine now. "I am doing my utmost, but many would still prefer the awkwardness of magic to the certainty of a surgical hand."

[ open: hello again, riftwatch ]

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