faderift | [ open: all arise! ]

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[ 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 relinquishes it, content that he isn't about to have a panic attack or a bad trip or something. He'd be sweaty and nauseous by now if he were. ]

Hmm. Well, it'll come to us or it won't.

[Pleased that he's evaded his own guilt for a moment longer, and with the joint recovered, Matthias tries to do as she'd instructed. He does better at it this time. Barely has a cough to suppress, and when he does suppress it, he doesn't choke on it.

In the room, the music changes. Someone else is playing; the pace is slower. It reminds of something. Butter, maybe. A new thought comes to him, elbowing in. He looks over at Athessa again.]

Hey. D'you believe in love? Like--actual love. Real. And all.

[ Okay. Unexpected, and... weird. ]

Uhm. Yeah? What do you...Like whaddya mean?

Like-- love?

[Erm. He scratches at his cheek.]

I dunno how else to say it, like-- like can you be in love, forever?

Phoar...when you put it like that... I kinda hope not.

[ You mean she has to be in love with Ciara and Derrica and know that they can't love her back... FOREVER?! ]

But I mean like, when you think about love, is it real people love, or storybook love?

Didn't read a lot of storybooks.

[Or, like, any.]

Real, I s'ppose. Real people. People can fall in love, yeah? And it can last ages. Actual Ages, maybe even. What'd be wrong with forever?

[ Yeah she didn’t read any storybooks either but they had street plays for kids based on them. ]

Forever’s a long time, and love isn’t always mutual.

Edited (just html things) 2020-07-10 05:34 (UTC)

Well, no. 'Course it isn't. But that's how you know that wasn't it, right? If it wasn't mutual and it didn't last then that wasn't the big sort of love. 'Cause like, there are different sorts, aren't there. There's love like friends and there's love like that people feel for relations--sisters and brothers, and parents, and all--and there's smaller sorts for just--smaller times, and I reckon you can even be in love with someone for a bit, a year or less, even, everyone's felt a bit of that--but that's not love-love. That's-- bigger.

Or I think it is, anyways. I dunno. I think it's out there.

Edited (just ICON things) 2020-07-11 21:41 (UTC)

[ Athessa listens, silently, then thinks about what Matty's saying for a long time. Eventually, she heaves a sigh and shifts her weight slightly as if she might find a position that makes telling this story more comfortable. ]

I fell in love for the first time when I was...oh, fifteen, sixteen? Her name was Ciara. I mean, it might still be, I dunno what happened to her, if she's still alive or what. We--she kind of...picked me up and put me back together when I was in pieces and she made hell almost bearable.

[ Whenever she thinks of Ciara, Athessa sees the face, feels the warmth and the care, the love she felt and was once so sure was real. What she doesn't see is the location, the pain, the discomfort or the money changing hands. Until recently, she didn't even think about what brought her to Ciara in the first place. About Devigny, and what he did. What he was still doing until Deimos killed him.

Is killing for someone love? ]

But I couldn't take it. I needed to leave Kirkwall, distance myself from...everything, ya know? I thought maybe I could get a fresh start if I left, and I wanted her to come with me. But when I asked--begged her to come to Rivain with me, she...wouldn't. She said what we had wasn't real, and that she didn't and couldn't love me. It's been fourteen years and I don't know what I'd do if I saw her again, but I know that when I think about her...it hurts. Even now.

[Aware that he was about to be told a tale, Matthias had begun to settle in, as is customary when you're pissed (or something equal to being pissed) and someone is launching in to a tale. All of those preparations had very quickly stilled, as Athessa's story takes shape.

This is new information, new bits of Athessa that fit into place. Come up as he did, Matthias knows to stay still. To listen, only, especially when you haven't got anything to say. The urge is there--because Athessa is his friend, because you don't sit by while a friend is hurt, because he always has got something to say--but he suppresses it, blearily navigating the paths of what she's telling him about herself. And about love, which--]

That doesn't make sense.

[He blurts it out before he can stop himself.]

You're, that's-- That doesn't make sense. If you had something with her, then she would've-- I mean, you're you. She-- What, she'd been lying, is what she meant? For all that time before?

[ She shrugs, a rueful little smile finding its way onto her face because Matty's asking the same questions she's asked herself ever since. ]

I guess so. She was either lying while we were together, or lying to get me to leave, I dunno. She didn't ask me to stay, I reckon because she knew why I wanted out so bad.

[ Another sigh, and Athessa tips her head back to let it rest against the wall. ]

I dunno what point I'm trying to make other than love isn't simple, or ideal, or always nice. Sometimes it just hurts, and hurts for a long fucking time.

Well--yeah. Yeah, I know that. I didn't mean...

[Or did he? It was a stupid question. A child's question. Why is he an idiot. Matthias hunches forward, pulls his knees up to his chest. But he still can't leave well enough alone, so after only a moment, he shakes his head.]

Really doesn't make any sense. Why would she lie for--what, how long? Months and months, at the least. What'd be the purpose of that? And, but then-- [Oh, here's a thread to hold to; he straightens up a little.] --that wasn't it, then. It's yet out there. Someone else, something else, 'cause you've not given up, have you? Even if it hurts--might be over with one person, at one time, but it's not the end.

You're asking the questions I've been asking for years, mate.

[ And she almost laughs, because she had given up, and then Derrica happened, and she's not sure what to do or think or feel anymore. ]

I really wanted it to be the end. 'S why I never really get too deep with people, ya know? Just casual. Fun. Not complicated. Or...that's how it was supposed to be.

[Again, before he can stop himself--]

But that's terrible. [Shut up, slow down; he can't.] If you-- Look, you're brilliant. You can't do that to yourself. You deserve better than that, when what happened to you was shit--that wasn't your fault. It was your, whatever, she's the one that's at fault, for doing something shit to you, and if I could find her I'd punch her nose in for you, for that-- You didn't do anything to deserve that. And even if you had, which you didn't, you'd still deserve to move on and, and live, and-- You're brilliant!

[ He might think he should shut up or slow down, and maybe he should, but even if she doesn't fully believe what he's saying, it's sweet. He's a good kid. A good friend. ]

Don't go punching people in the face for me, Matty, [ quietly, and with that slight rueful smile again. ] especially when the person I'm mad at is myself. I wish I could believe that it's not my fault but it's hard when it keeps happening. Derrica told me she couldn't love me, either. And Deimos--Sten, I mean. He left and I don't even know if he's coming back. No warning, no message, just a dagger.

[ Wait. Did she just admit that she loves Deimos? Oh no. That's the last thing she needs right now. ]

Maybe there's something wrong with me.

What?

[Derrica's name has a peculiar electrification to it. It is not a name Matthias would have thought to hear right now, not in the current conversation, not after he's still trying to pick apart Athessa being angriest at herself--but doesn't he know that, too, not for this reason, of course, but still, he knows it. And then Derrica, and while he's still reeling from that--Derrica, who he loves, who is surely too kind to say anything like that to anyone, let alone Athessa, who Matthias also loves--and then Demios, Sten, a dagger--he shakes his head, confused. At least he can find a mooring on that last point.]

There's nothing wrong with you. What would be wrong with you?

Cursed, maybe, [ She raises her eyebrows and purses her lips in thought. ] like one that makes anyone I fall in love with incapable of feeling the same.

[ Looking at Matthias, she gets suddenly self-conscious about how much she's saying, and how much it's affecting her friend. She clears her throat. As if any number of ahems could dislodge the "what if I'm unlovable" stuck in there so she can swallow it and never allow it into being.]

Sorry, we should talk about something else. I don't wanna bring the mood down.

[Stubbornly, he shakes his head--at the first bit, first, cursed, and then at the second bit as well, and before he can stop himself--]

I love you.

[Well. Shit. Not precisely what he wanted to say and the wrong time to say it, with Athessa occupying some space between friend and impossible crush, even now, after all this time--and he can feel a flush in his cheeks, but something in him digs in, presses on--]

I do. I mean, I know that's not the same as, as love love and I know you don't think about me, like, that's not us. It's not even what you said really, I know you said 'people you fall in love with', that they can't feel the same, and that's not me, or us but-- But I do. Sorry. Shit. But I do mean it. You're-- you're my friend and I think you're brilliant and I have since I first met you and-- And if you were cursed then I reckon I wouldn't be able to manage even that, right? So, there.

[ The admission is sudden, unexpected, though maybe it shouldn't be. She'd be dumber than even she thinks herself not to notice how Matty felt. But it still takes her aback to be presented with "I love you" so insistently.

As he rambles, her surprise gives way to a smile that does little to keep her from crying, but it's doing its damnedest.

When he's done, she pulls him into a hug. ]

Love ya too, ya little berk.

[The hug is welcome, if only because it saves him from having to say anything else--and because he wants to hug her, too. He's surprised enough that he comes into it clumsily, his nose sort of crushed and his arms at an awkward angle--they're sitting down, he's never been good at sitting-down hugs--but it's a long enough hug that he can rearrange, put his arms around her and return the affection.

It's been awhile, is the other thing. Even Laura, he doesn't really hug. Not like this. His emotions are soft enough--wine-soaked, gauzy from the smoking--that there's the particular itch behind his eyes that makes him worried, for a moment, that he might cry.

But he doesn't.]

Good, [is what he says instead, against Athessa,] good, so that's-- That settles it, doesn't it. You're all right. You'll be all right.

[ Sometimes a good solid hug from a friend is what you really, really need to untangle the confusing feelings that've lodged in your chest and make it so you can breathe again, and this is definitely one of those times. Athessa exhales and gives Matthias a little squeeze, and after the arbitrary but adequate amount of time, she relinquishes her hold. ]

Thanks, Matty, [ she sniffles, laughs at herself for being such a crybaby, wipes at her face with her forearm, and sighs. ] 's been a rough year, innit?

[ Nevarra, the nightmare-sharing, that grippe outbreak, Devigny rearing his ugly head, Bastien's ex-lover getting executed in Orlais, "breaking up" with Derrica, getting stranded in the Donarks for a month, coming back to a retrofitted prison they all call home only to find someone's been stealing shit from people's rooms, Deimos fucking off...it's a wonder she hasn't fucked off herself to take a vacation. ]

[He takes his cue from her, lets go when she lets go. Aware of how bad it feels to have someone staring at you when you're trying to pull yourself together, he looks away to give her space. They're friends, so: he does sneak a look back a moment later, just to check on her. They're friends, so: he's quick to look away again, give her more time.]

There's been worse. [Very much so for him, when he thinks about it. Riftwatch, being here--no matter how badly he cocked up and got them all stranded in the jungle--that was bad. It wasn't the worst.] There's been better as well. There will be again. There's-- There's got to be.

[More confidently--at last lacking some of the thickness of him almost bursting into tears out of sympathy--] You'll be all right. And you've got loads of friends, here. We'll help you until you are. All right?

[ They're friends, so: she bites back every cynicism and doubt that she could say, and just nods. It's hard to see good things on the horizon when you're still reeling from the bad things nipping at your heels.

And it's hard to accept help when you used to be so good at taking care of yourself. How many years did she spend on her own, doing just fine? It's almost like as soon as she stopped moving, settled in this place, all the stuff she was running from caught up with her and have been tugging on threads to make her unravel. Has she always been so weak? Is it weak to depend on other people?

No. She wouldn't think that way about her clan, so why should this be any different? Athessa takes another slow breath, and this time it feels calming. ]

All right. You're right. [ A simple concession, but if she knows Matty, one that'll resound with him. Who doesn't like to hear that they're right? She pats her cheeks as if to wake herself up, though this little ritual is more to slap the memory of tears off her face. And it's a little silly, which should help get them laughing again if nothing else. Then: ] Why were you asking about love, anyway? Thinkin' about Laura?

[He smiles a little at the action--but then immediately a flush creeps into his cheeks, and his smile goes a little rueful.]

No. I dunno. Just--thinking, is all. [He leans back against the wall.] Maybe a bit.

[ How precious he is. Athessa's smile--which was mostly sad just a second ago--spreads over her features, warm and genuine and still a tiny bit sad but mostly kind. He's blushing.

Then she tips her head and nudges him gently. Go on. I spilled my guts now you spill yours. ]

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