faderift | [ open: all arise! ]

Entry tags:

[ open: all arise! ]

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.

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[ She starts slightly, not expecting anyone to be out here already, but relaxes as soon as she sees who it is. No need to pretend to be sooo tooootally wastedddd around Matty. Maybe she should've, just to keep up appearances, but. Oh well. Athessa sighs. ]

Oh, hey Matty. Nah I'm just...getting some air, ya know.

[ In this instance, getting some air also means ducking out to smoke, but why split hairs? She strolls a few lackadaisical steps past him down the corridor, then pivots to turn towards him, shrugging. ]

What about you? Why're you out here and not in there?

Oh. Good.

[Good. It is nice to know where people are going to be, especially when they're a friendly face. Muzzily settling back in to introspection, Matthias starts back out of it at her question.]

Huh? Oh. Air, like you said. I'm-- [Phowar is a noise that he actually makes, right before he rubs a hand self-consciously over his face, clearing a path for his rueful little grin.] It's a lot, y'know? So I thought I'd sit it out for a minute. I'll go back in, I reckon, eventually.

[ Athessa tilts her head, watching him for a moment. There's a torch on the wall not far off, but Matty always liked playing with fire, being that kind of mage and all. She comes to a quiet conclusion and plucks the unlit joint from behind her ear, rolling it over her knuckles once before holding it out towards him. ]

Got a light? I'll share if you wanna.

[ And it might make talking about whatever's buggin' ya easier. Apparently talking helps, though don't ask her why. She still doesn't know. ]

[Does he have a light. Matthias grins, first, quick and eager and pleased. Then he rearranges his expression into something more cool and adult, like, yeah so what, and he reaches out and does a little twist of his fingers in the direction of the joint.

There's a faint sizzle on the air before the fire sparks. Preseto, fireo.

Of course, now the joint is straight up burning, but like. It's lit.]

[ Say what you will about Matty but he isn't wanting for enthusiasm. Athessa waves the joint back and forth to put out the flame, leaving just an ember. At least it's an even burn, and a slow one at that. ]

Nice. [ It's only a little sarcastic. She takes a decent lungful of the smoke, then offers it to Matthias as she leans against the wall next to him. ]

So. What's on your mind?

[He pulls a face at her sarcasm. Nothing lasting. And he only hesitates half a second, which is hopefully easily overlooked, before he takes the joint. Not because he isn't interested or is somehow against. Truthfully it is because he wants to make sure he gets right how to hold it, and what to do with it, exactly. Imitating Athessa on the spot, in front of Athessa, is stressful.]

Nothing, really.

[Inhale. Oh, fuck. If he coughs, he's going to look like such a wanker. But the smoke is already tickling the back of his throat. She had exhaled, so he has to as well--but when he does, the smoke all expels in a burst, and Matthias fights the urge to burst into a cough.

Somewhat strained--]

Just-- thinking about our time in the j, uh-- jungle.

Yeah?

[ She doesn't acknowledge the strain, even though it looks like Matty's head is about to explode. She just pats him on the back a few times when his body's natural urge to cough rocks him forward. ]

Anything specific? I keep thinking about that blue moss that almost ate my feet.

[One of the most brilliant things about Athessa is that she only calls him on stuff like this sometimes. And he can't blame her for it when she does, because he would do the same--but he would also show mercy, sometimes, the way that she does. He appreciates it beyond words, mostly because to put it to words would be a kind of self call out.

Matthias manages to get out of this particular situation with the back patting and with some subtle (? maybe) closed-mouth coughing. Whew. Okay. Not that what he has to say is going to be any easier for it.]

I dunno that I saw that moss. Was it, like--maggot-style feet eating? Or did it just grow up over your feet?

[ Athessa rolls her eyes at the maggot reference. Not that shit again. ]

More like the way acid eats away at what it touches. Made quick work of Richard's boots.

[ She takes the joint back and this time, exhales the smoke through her nose. Just to be cool. ]

[It's not fair, how easy she makes that look. Matthias observes the exhale with jealousy. He reaches up to scratch at his nose a moment later. Probably ought not to try to imitate her, when she passes it back.]

Sick. [With some admiration.] We ought to turn it to a weapon, y'know? Chuck it at Corypheus and the Vints and Templars and anyone else, and watch 'em get eaten up.

[ Takes practice, my good dude. But no amount of practice stops Athessa from pinching her nose and making a face as she massages her nostrils. ]

Gods, that feels weird. Every fuckin' time.

[ A huff and she's done, ready to address his suggestion. ]

Sure, if you can figure out how to hold it without it eating you. I stood on it for a few minutes and it was bad. Like make yer feet stop workin' bad. [ Passing the joint back, she takes pity on him and gives him instruction before he chokes again. ] Try breathing in through your nose at the same time as your mouth, instead of sucking on it.

Magic, maybe. Nothing I could do, but someone else--or a Rifter, even--

[But doubtful. Oh, well. He takes back the joint with a nod at her advice, trying to give the appearance of being cool without giving away the wash of gratefulness he's feeling in turn. Athessa is cool enough to just give advice--no begging or asking on his part necessary.

He's dutifully repeating her suggestion in his mind as he gives it another go--and is much more successful this time, only a slight cough. Which is good. Probably couldn't have taken much more.]

It's not like, practice. I mean I have, obviously, but not regular. So.

[Too much explanation. He passes the joint back to her, with a little sigh at himself.]

D'you reckon I'll learn to shut up, someday?

Pffft I hope not. It'll make teasing you a lot harder.

[ She grins--speaking of teasing--and nudges him with her elbow. He's always trying to act like he's got everything under control, doesn't need any help, has more experience than he really has. It really is the talking that gives it all away, and it makes Athessa wonder how much of her own false confidence was received the way Matty's is. Probably a lot, considering how many people are surprised to learn her age.

She won't pass the joint back just yet; best to wait until the effects settle in so he doesn't overdo it. ]

One of these days I'll learn how to do smoke rings. Can never seem to get those to work.

[Despite himself, Matthias grins, as he allows himself to be elbowed.]

Shut up.

[He slumps a little against the wall when he rights himself, that pleasant boneless feeling settling in. There's a tingling under his nose, in that weird divot above the lip. He presses his thumb against it, experimentally.]

Wish you would learn. Then you can tell me how. How do people learn that sort of thing anyways, s'not as if there's a book laying about that tells you how to manage. All word of mouth, right.

Yeah, pretty much. I asked Tony to teach me a while back.

[ She puffs once on the joint just to get enough smoke to try and shape into a ring, but it just looks like a disk in the air. ]

Tch. It was pretty pointless 'cos he wouldn't explain what he was doing, and then everything just dissolved into flirting, ya know.

[ Heh. Word of mouth. That's funny. ]

[Even a disk is impressive when you can barely manage the smoke in the first place. That's not why Matthias' nose wrinkles.]

Isn't he like, massively old?

[ She scoffs lightly, tch, no. ]

He's only like... ten years older than me.

[ Comparable to the age difference between herself and Matty. ]

[He clicks his tongue against his teeth, incredulous.]

Get out.

No, really! Well...

[ She tips her head back and forth. ]

So probably like, eleven years older, then, 'cos I turned twenty-nine last month, but still. That's nothin'.

Are you mental, that's loads of, [of....?] not nothing. Like, think of it this way. When you were a baby, he was eleven years of age. At least. Maybe more 'cause we don't actually know his age, do we.

Sure, but I'm not a baby now, am I?

Obviously-- [Though it comes out lazily, more like obvsly.] --but that's still the distance, innit. Age distance. And that doesn't go away, that's forever.

[ She blinks at him, slowly, like there's something else she'd like to say, but then a furrow knits between her brows and she holds a hand up behind her ear. ]

Sorry, what was that? Are there maggots in my ears? No? I must not be able to hear you over this age distance between us.

Wha, that's-- [He shakes his head, to clear it.] Hang on, that's not on. That's not what I meant. We're different, you and I. We're all right. We're like-- Well, and it doesn't matter, 'cause I'm not bloody flirting with you, am I, so even if that is true, s'not the same, and we're friends, anyways, have been, and I'm not--

And maybe there are maggots in your ears, besides!

You're so easy!

[ She guffaws, far too delighted about being able to rile him up. A real knee-slapper. ]

Anyway, he turned me down so it double-doesn't matter.

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