[ 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

[thereneverwas]

He looks like he's about to argue, but instead seems to completely deflate instead, all the wind leaving his sails in one breath.

"...she is, isn't she," he mutters.

[bloodandsand]

She pats his arm comfortingly.

"Poor bunny! You really must be more careful if you're going to commit indiscretions!" As if the outing of their affair had nothing to do with her, because frankly it didn't. "Do you suppose if you crawl to her and beg most pleasingly she'll forgive you?"

[thereneverwas]

The "hmmmm," he gives in reply isn't so much thoughtful as grudging, like an old dog who's too lazy to snarl at the puppy biting his ear.

"It's worth a shot," he grunts after a moment, drinking from his mug to punctuate it.

[bloodandsand]

She leans against his arm, pouting prettily up at him. "But will you? You did seem terribly sad when she slapped you. And you certainly didn't tell me if you liked that sort of thing."

The slapping that is.

[thereneverwas]

Barrow pauses for a moment, staring into his mug. Then he shifts his gaze to stare at Poesia for several seconds, then lifts it above her head to stare, perhaps at nothing, out over the room.

On his face is a placid almost-smile, the look of a man so at a loss for what to say that he's just choosing to sit with it for a moment.

[bloodandsand]

She is perfectly willing to wait. And she is not pressed against him nearly as suggestively as she might, because even though a quick fuck would be marvelous in between all the dancing, it would be a terrible shame for dear Bunny to make another decision that might get him slapped. Particularly if he wasn't into that sort of thing after all.

[thereneverwas]

Being pressed against him at all is enough, or at least enough to make him contemplate how much he doesn't want Fitcher to write him off entirely-- which, now that she's in his field of vision, is actually quite a lot.

"I think," he muses absently, "I'll be going," and he lifts his mug to her in farewell as he steps away.

[bloodandsand]

"Well, if you must," she says, with another pout, but she lets him go all the same without any other resistance, "It was lovely seeing you again, bunny."