[ open: all arise! ]

[vorbratta]

WHO: you. yes, you there. you're invited
WHAT: Sonia is throwing a big party, because everyone needs an excuse to get good and drunk together right now. And dancing. There is always dancing.
WHEN: Justinian, shortly after the return of the jungle crew
WHERE: The suite at the top of the mage tower
NOTES: ♫ have some party jams ♫

The month in the jungle was a long one, made longer by the total lack of any alcohol to mitigate the experience. Utterly unthinkable. Sonia is addressing a public need by throwing a grand party -- a public service, even. Besides, it's what she does. When was the last time she got to plan a party, anyway? Granted, this is not a Denerim soiree for the young nobility, but the venue doesn't matter. Only the people and the drinks, and Sonia is assuredly rich in both. It is also a fantastic excuse not to think about any of the bad things that have happened since she was last in Kirkwall.

The decoration in the residential suite at the top of the mage tower would be best classified as improvisational -- one of those drapes tacked along the wall for ambience may be a bedsheet -- but it's the spirit of the thing that counts. One makes do with what one has. In one corner are a few tables laden with spirits, some provided by Sonia, others by generous partygoers. There are a few Barra vineyard vintages in the mix, highlights of her personal collection, a testament to the celebration she considers tonight to be. There's a small selection of food nearby, mostly for snacking to go with the drinks, though guests are free to bring whatever they like to share.

And there is, of course, music. Someone here has brought a fiddle or a flute or a bunch of pots masquerading as a drum set. Maybe you've brought your very own a capella choir. Whatever the accompaniment, there's something to dance to. Sonia makes sure there is dancing.

Tonight is not for licking wounds or swapping grisly stories of terror and survival. Tonight is for feeling alive, getting properly and delightfully drunk, and having a good god damn time.

Comments

[bouchonne]

Hop on.

[ He turns around to look at her, face innocent. ]

Come on.

[sulahnan]

[ Self control? I don't know her. Athessa grins and hops on, arms looped loosely around Byerly's neck. ]

Such a gentleman you are, By.

[bouchonne]

[ She speaks just a little bit too soon. As soon as she's well settled, he launches himself into the fray of dancers, hurtling between them and around them with a manic energy. Here's hoping those arms change their grip from loose to holding on for dear life quick. ]

[sulahnan]

[ It's a close one, but those arms do indeed switch from loose to clinging tightly. Her surprised yelp devolves into delighted giggles, which are probably too high-pitched to be comfortable this close to Byerly's ear. Ya know. Fuck that ear in particular. ]

Watch out! You are an absolute madman, you know?!

[ Said with the same tone of voice one might use to say "you're amazing." ]

[bouchonne]

[ His laugh is a little breathy - he's not superhuman, giving someone a quick-dance piggyback winds him - but he keeps it up, falling in line with the other dancers, bending over so she has the opportunity to touch palms with a dance partner before moving onto the next set of moves. ]

[sulahnan]

Easy, there, you don't wanna--

[ Okay so this is fun, she does the top half of the dance moves while he handles the legwork. It's hard not to just laugh continuously but she does try. ]

--you don't wanna keel over, bruv.

[bouchonne]

You don't want me to keel over. I'd drop you on your head.

[ He slows enough to safely lean to one side, feigning instability. ]

Oh, dear, oh, it's so dangerous -

[sulahnan]

[ She makes a strangled sound and quickly leans the opposite way to compensate for him leaning.

Then she gets whiny. ]

Byyyerlyyyyyy, stoooop!

[bouchonne]

That's Lord Ambassador Rutyer to you.

[ He shimmies his shoulders to jostle her around - then loosens his grip on her legs, in case she wants to slip free. ]

[sulahnan]

[ It's really for his benefit that she does unhook her legs from around his waist, stumbling a few steps away and then coming back as dictated by dance rules. ]

Well then what kind of way issat for a Laird Ambassadeur to act?

[bouchonne]

I am Lord Ambassador. Therefore, by definition, anything I do is what a Lord Ambassador would do.

[ Then, as he's bowing to his erstwhile rider, he comments offhandedly - ]

A drunk person tries to act sober.

[sulahnan]

[ Oops. Well. ]

Tell that to uh...what's-his-name of someplace.

[ The handsome Lieutenant she danced with in Val Royeaux when Bastien's old flame got executed for treason. That guy. ]

[bouchonne]

Oh, yes, what's his name of someplace.

[sulahnan]

Yeah. Lieutenant what's-his-name of someplace. Orlesian. Tall. Good dancer.

[ Conspiratorial, because she's not gonna try and double-down on the lie when directly called out. ]

He couldn't tell the difference.

[bouchonne]

[ An easy shrug. ]

Well done. You fooled one person.

[sulahnan]

Better than none person...s. Persons.

[ She points at him as she decides on that plurality. ]

None persons.

[ But also it was many persons thankyouverymuch and one of them was even a real-ass Bard! She straightens, and holds out her hands. ]

Wanna dance for real?

[bouchonne]

[ A little quirk of his lip, and then - almost like magic - every bit of him relaxes. His posture changes utterly, even the muscles of his face readjusting to make him look just a bit absent, a bit dazed. When he says - ]

I'd be pleased to.

[ It's probably pretty familiar, because it's exactly like what he sounds like at every single party. It is a very convincing fake-drunk, because ninety-five percent of the time when he seems drunk, he's faking. Which, yes, maybe it's not the best idea to hint at that to Athessa, but it pains him to see a less-than-perfect job of it. ]

[sulahnan]

[ She picks up on the hint, but all it gets is a squint and a smile. ]

Then I hope you know the steps, 'cos I sure don't.

[bouchonne]

Of course I do.

[ The illusion of intoxication is maintained, his manner just a little more self-conscious than before. ]

I know every dance. Come on.

[sulahnan]

You come on. [ But she does come on, and her own illusion has more subtlety this time around. Some of it copied from Byerly, the rest informed by her own past drunkenness.

She really doesn't know this dance, though, so she keeps glancing down at their feet to try and mirror Byerly. ]

You play really good, by the way.

[bouchonne]

I know.

[ No false modesty here. ]

What about you? Any elven pan-pipes or something of the like in your repertoire?

[sulahnan]

Naaah. Just singing. Instruments are too hard.

[bouchonne]

You'll never make a proper Bard like that.

[sulahnan]

Improper suits me fine.

[ Not like she wants to be a Real Bard ™ ]

Anyway, being a bard isn't the point.

[bouchonne]

Is it not?

[ He twirls her. ]