faderift | [ open: all arise! ]

Entry tags:

[ 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 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. ]

[Mmmnnn, is kind of the sound Matthias makes. He pulls his knees up to his chest and puts his forehead on them for a second. Then, muffled--]

I really do like her. Aaah, I dunno. S' not as if she's the first person I've ever liked, or anything, I'm not a complete dimwit, just. It does feel different. A bit different. I think. But then maybe that's just 'cos I'm here, and all. Yeah?

Maybe, but you could say that about anything.

[ Sleeping feels different because they're here, vs anywhere else. Athessa is learning Bard tricks because she's here, rather than on the street or being a merc. ]

How does it feel different? Like, in what ways?

Well, like. Before...

[Matthias scrunches his toes in his boots, keeps his forehead pressed against his knees. It saves him from having to make eye contact.]

Before it felt--short. We knew it was all going to end. So you--did stuff, you slept with people and you kissed people and it was just, that was it, 'cause it was as like to be over the next day as not. And before that, it was, you know, the Circle, and we weren't... So this is all different. There is more that comes next. I know it's dangerous to think of it 'cause what's changed from the war, this is as like to be over as well, but it feels--less certain, like.

I think that makes it feel different for starters. Laura and I, there's space for it. Like when you're in a room with a low ceiling and then you go to the next room and it's got a massive ceiling, all the way up to the bloody sky--that's what this feels like. Like it's up there. And we can do whatever we like.

[ It's funny. Not ha-ha funny, of course, but...

Athessa exhales softly and leans back against the wall, resting her head against cool stone and closing her eyes to listen to the muffled sounds of merriment just beyond. They've changed the subject on the surface, but just underneath it's the same topic. The same thing keeping Athessa from embracing the concept of love as a boon rather than a burden, from seeking it out willingly rather than having it strike her like a snake lying in wait, is the very thing that makes Matthias believe that anything could happen. Anything is possible. He--and Laura by extension--can do anything.

It makes her feel weak to realize that where she sees fear in uncertainty and is hobbled by it, he sees: ]

Hope.

[ Such a small word for such a big feeling. And it's what she cited as one of Derrica's prime virtues--one of the reasons Athessa loves her. ]

It's like being locked in a room, long enough that you know every inch of it as instinctively as breathing. You know the walls and the ceiling and every creaky floorboard. And one day the door opens and you can either stay in your little box that's bright and familiar, or you can wield hope like a fucking torch and walk outside and see what's out there. Hope says it's something better than where you started, says there's possibilities out there.

[ Sometimes being just a person is enough. She hears herself saying it and she despises her own voice, because what difference is there between wanting just enough and deciding that staying in a locked room is better than seeking something better just beyond the door? Is she so different from that 17 year old girl who walked away from her first love, seeking something more than the hand she was dealt?

When did she become such a coward? ]

Like all you gotta do to be happy is go out and find it.

[While she's talking, Matthias turns his head so he can look at her, his cheek pressed against his knees. He is still drunk, still high, so he can easily get lost in what she's saying, but all the while feel bright with it.

She's right. She's absolutely right. Hope, like a candle that becomes a torch, like what's outside a room, possibilities that you can't even conceive. His eyes--already bright--get brighter, and no sooner has she finished does he rush in with--]

Yes, [and it's practically breathless,] yeah. Exactly.

[He snakes his arms around his legs so he can pull them in close, trying to hold in this feeling lest he explode.]

That's what it feels like. And some of that has got to be Laura. I think 'cause she's different, everyone I knew before, they were like me, a bit, and she's not, she's different.

I think we could be something. You know? I dunno what, exactly, but I think I'd like it. Right now it's enough that I just get to spend time with her, and be with her, and, all of it, but we could be something. No matter what comes next. I don't know what comes next, no one does, but I reckon that means I ought not to dick about and wait for-- well, not, dick, like that, erm, I mean, wait about, that sort of-- Well, yeah. That's what I mean. With Laura. Not that I want to rush off to some chantry and say vows, or anything, just that... that.

[And then, abruptly:] Hope is sort of awful, isn't it. I know I shouldn't. I could end up dead tomorrow. Tonight, even. The world's shit. But I don't want to. I want to have it. Hope, and Laura, and--friends, and, and all of it. I wonder if that's not why I'm still here at all. But that's not fair to the people what died, s'not as if they were hopeless, or anything. I dunno. I can't work it out.

[ She laughs for the duration of his non-explanation for what he does and doesn't mean by dick, and it's a welcome chunk of genuine amusement in the midst of self-loathing. Or is it envy? Maybe it's both.

Athessa opens her eyes and lets her gaze drift aimlessly over the ceiling. ]

I think you've worked it out better than most, actually. Better'n me, by far. Any of us could end up dead tomorrow, so fuck shoulds and shouldn'ts. There shouldn't be a war on but there is. Shouldn't be a locked door between us and what's possible. I reckon if you and Laura can be happy, then that justifies trying for it.

[ She tucks her feet in to sit cross-legged, dropping her elbows onto her knees and idly tracing the lines on her palm with her fingers. ]

End of the day, that's what we're fighting for.

Yeah.

[Satisfied, Matthias settles his chin onto his knees instead and looks out across the corridor at the wall opposite. There's a pleasant warmth in him now, the noise of the party a distant wash.

After a moment, he adds, with rue self-deprecation:]

'Course, now I have to work out what that means. Happiness. Can't just walk up to Laura and say, oi, let's be happy.

No? You don't think so?

[ What would that even yield? A weird look and probably the question: "How?"

Athessa finds the joint again and breathes in the smoke, feeling it prickle in her throat and burn pleasantly in her chest. It's a warm feeling, familiar and comfortable, which is what she'll need before heading back into the fete. ]

[He snorts.]

No, I don't think so. Like come off it. What would you say, if someone walked up to you and said that.

[ open: all arise! ]

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