faderift | [ 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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Well if they aren’t here to watch an ant with gigantism get tore up from the floor up for science then what are they doing? The audible lap of Veronique’s proboscis-like tongue draws his eye down from de Foncé’s indignation, and he is briefly transfixed, in a worried about certain eventualities kind of way. It is all too easy to imagine blood in place of wine.

The sound of Val’s voice breaks the spell.

Dick listens without any change of his expression until the end, where his eyes narrow, and a crook catches harsh at the corner of his mouth.

He pushes to his feet -- not abruptly, or with any intent to spook Veronique away from the progress they’ve made, but certainly with conviction. ]

I’m glad to have been of service.

[Without looking around, Val grabs hold of whatever bit of Richard is nearby. He is aiming for leg, or similar, but as he is still looking at Veronique, he may miss in that goal. Not that he would be bothered.]

No, no. You have not understood, I think. Your service is not yet ended. Come, sit--look, she wants you to.

[In fact, Veronique seems to at least be looking at Richard. She has stopped drinking the wine. Her eyes glitter in the candlelight, dense and faceted. It is difficult to read anything in her eyes: wanting or otherwise.]

[ Shank. Richard tenses again -- unaccustomed, probably, to being grabbed at and hauled around the way humans here have a way of asserting themselves. There is a knife in his boot that stands apart from the tendon, like a third bone alongside tibia and fibula.

So caught, he looks to the ant, finds her looking back at him, and checks an uneasy glance back to Val, as if there might be some outward indication if he was in the process of being assimilated into a hive mind. What would that even look like? Probably a little like this. ]

Insects want food and a place to nest. [ He is 90% sure that is true. ]

Not everything thinks the way humans do.

Aha.

[Triumphant. Richard may sense he has made a misstep, because: he has. Val at last looks away from Veronique to smile up at him.]

I knew you were the one to assist me. I could sense it. A more pious man might claim a prayer had been answered, but as deep as my faith is, I would not make this claim. I would say only that it is the perfect arrangement that you are here.

Nothing thinks the way that humans do. [Happily, he smiles back at Veronique again.] That is what it is to love about them. I am thinking she will need to create a nest as she did in the place I found her. I did follow and find out about it. It is not underground. It is a kind of plaster, made with the spitting. I am thinking paper will suffice. We will need to be careful in how we requisition it.

Love is a strong word.

[ Tightly delivered. ]

If I requisition anything, it will under the pretense that you asked me to do so, and that I assumed you were passing on menial tasks you were too lazy or entitled to do yourself.

[ Richard shakes his leg free with a flick of his boot toe, plucks up his empty glass from a nearby chair, and swishes away with one last sidelong look of warning. Presumably, against Val de Foncé’s liberal use of ’we’. ]

[ open: all arise! ]

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