[ 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]

A cliff above a river.

[coquettish_trees]

Has it long been so?

[bouchonne]

Are you actually surprised to hear it?

[coquettish_trees]

Yes.

[ it is low; more the force behind it than the volume makes it audible. ]

[bouchonne]

[ And he comments to the dancer beside him, in a voice that sounds light and amused - ]

The lady thinks me unfeeling. Can you imagine?

[coquettish_trees]

[ She thinks about kicking him in the shin during the next turn but instead remarks sweetly to the partner of that dancer; ]

I assure you the imagination pales in comparison to the experience.

[bouchonne]

Quite, quite.

[ A bland smile. To Alexandrie, again, now: ]

How dreadfully you have suffered under my icy companionship.

[coquettish_trees]

Such a tone suggests you do not recall thrice rebuffing my affections.

[ a pause as she draws back to sweep a curtsy before stepping to rejoin him again. ]

How much I must mean to you.

[bouchonne]

Name those three times.

[coquettish_trees]

The evening I came to beg you not train Colin to the task of becoming as we are.

[ it is even, smooth as the steps. ]

When the Fade splashed the cruelty of our respective pasts across the streets. After you married, and I came to yell at you in your new Diplomatic suite.

[bouchonne]

Were those attempts at seduction?

[ An innocent blink. ]

I did not recognize them as such.

[coquettish_trees]

[ Alexandrie's nostrils flare, and this time she does kick him as she passes. ]

I wept for love of you. In your presence. Twice.

[bouchonne]

[ He takes in a breath, but otherwise doesn't react to the blow. ]

It does not mean you would catch me if I hurled myself at you. One can bask in misery without actually actually having any will to make a change.

[coquettish_trees]

One certainly can.

[ To wit: you too. ]

[bouchonne]

I hear no denial.

[coquettish_trees]

I see no misery on my account.

[bouchonne]

[ A crack of a laugh in response. ]

Is that what you require of me? To see me miserable as I reflect upon how you have no real desire for me? You ask so much.

[coquettish_trees]

Why not? You have watched me at just such reflections.

[bouchonne]

With pleasure, you believe?

[coquettish_trees]

With little mark of it at all.

[bouchonne]

Ah, how strange it is to be so little known by so old a flame.

[coquettish_trees]

Is it? You seem familiar with the concept, having expressed yourself innocent of understanding when I all but begged of you to only bid me stay.

[bouchonne]

What would you have done if I'd done so?

[coquettish_trees]

Stayed.

[bouchonne]

[ A laugh. ]

Oh, please, milady. In your eyes, my best quality is my unavailability. It allows one to enjoy feeling desired without ever actually confronting the danger of betraying one's true love. If I were to ever truly become capable of being your paramour, you'd flee.