[ 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]

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.

[coquettish_trees]

[ Her turn for a brittle incredulous crack of a laugh. ]

Think you I have felt desired? When was it you paid me any bare breath of court?

When you did not so much as acknowledge the first time I dared put arms around you? When you as much as said you had no room in your heart for me? Ah, yes, all marks of such passion.

[bouchonne]

Oh, come now, dear Orlesian. Surely your training is better than that.

[coquettish_trees]

Perhaps you have outpaced me.

[ although they match in movement here ]

Or perhaps I am too close to see; so are many fooled.

OOOOPS lost this notif, I am sorry

[bouchonne]

You have not seen how you get under my skin? How you disconcert me?

rejoice for it is found!

[coquettish_trees]

And how should I know how you are when I am absent to make comparison?

[ her jaw clenches, releases only after she looks away; a soft focus over his shoulder. ]

You think much of me to believe I might notice such things whilst I struggle to keep my balance in your company.

[bouchonne]

You are bard-trained.

[coquettish_trees]

Have you not training?

[bouchonne]

[ A small shrug. ]

Yes, you've taught me a thing or two. For which I thank you.

[coquettish_trees]

And what was it you learned?

[bouchonne]

Why, a bit of language. How to communicate.

[coquettish_trees]

But you will not.

[bouchonne]

Unlike you.

[coquettish_trees]

[ she stills a beat too long, he’ll be on the wrong side of her—or she of him—if he goes on without her. ]

As I.

[bouchonne]

[ A beat, an arched eyebrow. ]

That sounded akin to a confession.