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Entry tags:
- alexandrie d'asgard,
- bastien,
- byerly rutyer,
- derrica,
- ellis,
- julius,
- kostos averesch,
- nell voss,
- wysteria de foncé,
- yseult,
- { athessa },
- { fitcher },
- { ket perrino },
- { miles vorkosigan },
- { poesia },
- { richard dickerson },
- { sidony veranas },
- { sister sara sawbones },
- { sonia barra },
- { vanadi de vadarta }
[ 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 ♫
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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[ He says, either surprised by the chill response or the simple fact that he's expected to continue the conversation he himself started. Mostly the second one, honestly. A moment for the dust to settle on his surprise, then he looks back out over the party. Very Casual. ]
Nothing seriously, really, just— it's mandatory in schools. Try everything once, then spend three years playing the thing you're least terrible at. Did you study at school, or... ?
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Maker, no. My mother was Orlesian.
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Of course. What happens if an Orlesian's terrible at music or poetry or all that, do they get kicked out of the club?
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They are killed.
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Yeah. [ Wobbly certainty to start, gaining confidence. ] Very funny. We do the same in Scotland if you can't kick a ball, actually.
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Likewise, in Ferelden, to those who do not adore dogs.
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[ Wales and sheep, he gets, but sheep aren't like. Universal. ]
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[ Yes, that's right. Rifters don't really know much, do they? ]
Well, dogs are part of our culture. We breed the mabari - war-hounds - and have fought beside them since - oh, well, since before there was a Ferelden, honestly. They're our companions in nearly everything. I think most Banns respect their hounds more than they respect their freemen.
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[ Said a bit dubiously, like he's debating whether it actually is. Liking dogs: good. Medieval-ish social structures and also dogs bred for war: not great. ]
So your mother's Orlesian, and your father's Fereldan. [ This isn't small talk. Not a big fan of parents as a conversation topic. It's just practice, trying to get used to lineage being Kind of a Big Deal. ]
What, did they meet on spring break?
[ He says, smiling slightly at his own joke which is not great and also might be meaningless in Thedas??? ]
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My mother had some mining interests that she brought as part of her dowry. About as good a match as a creature as spiteful, penniless, and homely as my father could hope for.
[ Which is as much as he wants to say on that topic, drunk or no. ]
So how are you enjoying Thedas, dear Scotlander?
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If someone told me we could wake up back home by offing ourselves here, I'd probably try it. [ A dry hypothetical, not enough evidence to make it a real debate. He gives Byerly a mildly apologetic look. ] No offense.
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[ He frowns, mock-meditative. ]
I can't imagine that the process of dying is particularly pleasant. Are you certain you'd want to do it?
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[ With an edge of sarcasm, ]
And it's not so bad if you wake up after, is it? Not even sure that counts.
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No. I mean, yeah, but— your imagination's always going to make it worse than it is, isn't it.
[ Nightmares about drowning, definitely more melodramatic than the real deal. Probably not the same for like, burning alive or a billion other ways to go. Instead of bringing that debate back, Fitz shoots Byerly a disconcerted look. ]
Do you dream about dying often?
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Do you not?
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Well, yes. But I've got a lot inspiration, it's not just— [ He stops, visibly second-guessing. ] I was going to say it's not healthy if it's all the time, but we're in the bloody middle ages, so what do I know.
[ Lots of stress when you're fighting political collapse, archdemons and constant shortages of coffee and tea. It's understandable. ]
no subject
[ Thirty-odd is definitely someone in their middle ages. Still - ]
What sorts of inspiration, precisely?
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That's— traumatic experiences.
[ A little exasperated. 'Inspiration' was a stupid word to use. Should he get another drink? He's not done with his first one, but— ]
Has Thedas invented therapy yet?
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Define therapy.
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You know. Therapy. Working out your psychological— your mental and emotional health. Talking with someone who spends all their time talking about other people's problems and either making them exponentially worse or helping them make sense. Which— sometimes that makes them worse anyway, actually, but—
[ That sounds worse than he means it to. A patient correction, ] It's useful, it's just a bit miserable.
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How does someone talking about other people's problems help with your - [ What. ] Emotional health? Dear fellow, I think you might be taking the expression heart-sick a little seriously. It is not actually a sickness. Believe me; I'm rather an expert on the subject.
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[ A little incredulously, ]
Really. What makes you such an expert, then?
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Madness runs in my family line.
[ Gosh, don't you know that. ]
We all go famously insane. What in the Maker's name is a shut-statement?
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[ Said more in the tone of an insult than advice, so possibly not a great sell for therapy. ]
And it's should. Should statements. That part's complete nonsense, honestly. Sometimes it's just the right word for the sentence, isn't it.
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point 2 byerly