[ 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]

This is all very displeasing.

"In what respects isn't it?"

[hassaran]

"Not your manners, if you're going to demand compliments."

[bouchonne]

"I'm not demanding compliments." He shakes his head. "I would simply be - surprised, shall we say - if you were able to come up with anything you find tolerable about me. Which is not a criticism, by the by; I do not pretend to be tolerable."

[hassaran]

"No, you pretend to be intolerable," Yseult replies, dry, "And succeed only in being irritating. Surely you didn't expect me to believe your act for long. I wonder that you even bother to play at it, after the business with Devigny. What does it gain you now?"

[bouchonne]

"I did next to nothing during that business with Devigny," By says. "Others handled the whole affair." And he could let that stand, and let it devolve into a little squabble over yes-or-no, but instead something compels him to continue -

"I am intolerable, Scoutmaster. It is not an act."

[hassaran]

Just as well, since her response to that assertion--as if she was not there observing his dismay herself--is a roll of her eyes.

"I thought you had some respect for my skills. Are you suggesting I'm not a good judge of character?"

[bouchonne]

He gives her a rather sharp look in response to that. But while she seems rather droll, she does not seem altogether insincere - as though she truly thinks this of him, and isn't just giving him shit for no reason. Which is strange, to say the least.

So - he tries to answer sincerely. Hard, even in his severely intoxicated state. "I think that abilities in espionage and judgment of character are not entirely the same thing," he says, then follows that with a rather honest answer. "When the war is over, I will not be a figure of any prominence any longer. I must return to my old occupation. It will be harder by far to do so if I have gained a reputation as someone whom others enjoy."

[hassaran]

He gets a look at the last. "Let's not get carried away." Though she is enjoying this a fair bit.

"Anyway, that's nonsense. Plenty of spies work entirely by being pleasant company, or at least being unobjectionable and unobtrusive. Don't pretend you've no choice in the matter."

[bouchonne]

That gets a dry look. "I don't come in criticizing your cover," he says. "Seems rather rude to do so to me."

Then - "I am not made to be unobtrusive, or pleasant. The circles I move in, with my reputation, with my name, I will always be noticed. My only option is to ensure that immediately after being noticed, I am discounted."

[hassaran]

"Excuses," Yseult dismisses without hesitation, "And no reason why you should continue your half-arsed attempt to persuade everyone here you're some sort of terrible fiend."

[bouchonne]

"So that then they come to trust me?" For a moment, just a brief moment, the look on his face is one of very real pain. "And then come to me, with that trust, and have it used against them?

"I'll admit that my time here is a brief respite from being a fiend. But I'll return to it in time." He meets her eyes. "Won't you?"

[hassaran]

For a moment it seems as if Yseult will side-step neatly around the question, as she so often does when asked anything even remotely personal. But then she shakes her head. "No. When this is done, so am I."

[bouchonne]

A flicker of surprise. "Done? Out of this?" A small shake of his head - "To do what?"

[hassaran]

"Something else," she replies, now resorting back to vagueness, one shoulder lifted in a shrug. "Something completely different."

[bouchonne]

A moment, and then a quiet laugh. It sounds different from his usual laughter. It's contemplative and soft.

"I'm envious, Scoutmaster," he says wryly.

[hassaran]

"Besides," she says lightly, after letting that laugh settle in the air between them for a moment, "After twenty years my face is known in too many places. My value as an asset will only diminish and the risks increase. Best for everyone if I quietly vanish into retirement."

[bouchonne]

A shrug. "True enough," he says. "Especially after all of this. Well, I wish you joy. Truly." And, indeed, for once, he seems sincere.

[hassaran]

"Thank you." Lest the sincerity grow too much for them, she adds a shrug of her own after a moment. "Of course, that assumes this war is won, and we both survive it."

[bouchonne]

"You and your pirate, you mean?" he asks.

[hassaran]

"Privateer," Yseult corrects, not without a hint of dry humor, "Now that he sails for Riftwatch."

[bouchonne]

"And you work as a scout, and I as a diplomat," he agrees easily.

[hassaran]

Yseult concedes the point with a shrug.

[bouchonne]

"Well," he says, "I hope you reformed scoundrels shall find some peace. I've heard rumors that such things are possible."