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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If you bring me a glass of water, [ he concedes, finally, ] I will drink it.
[ Grooming was a clear first point of order for him upon his return to civilization. He’s tidily shorn and clipped and his jacket has been taken in. The wear and tear he’s suffered is all in his bones and his spirit -- long-suffering in the mean blue of his eyes when he slits them open again. ]
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Alright.
[ And if it takes him less time than it should to speed his way to the water pitcher and back, it's only because he's traveled with enough Wardens who have gotten into a fair amount of mischief when left alone in the past. ]
You're humoring me, but I appreciate it. [ is what he says upon return, passing the mug with the expectation of being traded the wine glass. ]
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At the sound of Ellis’ voice, the click of the mug, and the expectant pause that follows, he sits up and nudges his glass over in exchange. Cooperative, apart from some delay.
Another deep breath keeps him buoyed upright to receive the mug in exchange. He has to think about whether or not he has the stomach for drinking it. ]
Who am I to deprive you of your ethical obligation.
[ Taking it slowly feels wise. He tests it with a sip. ]
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[ Because Ellis does assume he's being humored.
The attempted escape is not remarked upon. Ellis leans back in his own chair, tipping the relinquished cup back and forth to swirl the dregs within it. ]
I'm sorry I'm not better company.
[ Though he isn't sorry for confiscating the drink. ]
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Please. Why aren’t you dancing?
[ Another sip, and he sucks at his teeth, bitter against the taste cloying in his mouth. ]
You’re -- strapping. [ A Compliment. ] Noble, [ he adds, with effort. ] Polite.
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[ None of that praise sits quite right with Ellis. It feels almost deceptive not to object more strongly, but. ]
I did dance. Two turns with Wysteria, before she found another partner.
[ The summation glosses over Ellis' own reactions to the dance, makes it sound as if it were some small thing. It should have been. ]
In my experience Wardens usually keep out of it.
[ Though clearly not all Wardens. Ellis' career trajectory had gone in a very specific direction, so how would he know what Wardens do and don't do at parties? ]
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[ Muffled into the cup -- Dick drinks more deeply and sets it aside, a genuine sting of irritation in a glance for recurring gratitude over offerings so vapid as drinking water or making an observation. ] I am dehydrated, and I have eyes.
[ Pull yourself together, Warden.
More mildly (more kindly), after a beat spent staring Ellis down, he offers: ] Wysteria is lovely. I’m sorry I missed it.
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She's a fine dancer.
[ As Ellis promised to offer, if asked. ]
You could ask her for a dance yourself still. I doubt she's left yet.
[ Because Ellis isn't all that certain what to do with Richard's assessment other than direct him towards the dance floor. ]
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[ In spite of this very good idea Ellis has had, Richard stays firmly rooted to his seat, where he has water, and is safe from gravity. ]
Are there any other wardens with Riftwatch?
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He leans forward, elbows on the table, then shrugs a little. ]
A few others. Not very many. The bulk of our forces are in the Anderfels, and last I heard, there's a smaller group in Orlais. And some others, probably, traveling on their own to recruit and assist where we're needed.
[ But his information is out of date. He knows that. ]
That's what I was doing, before I came here.
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[ Dick Dickerson is drunk; there is nothing slick about the way he narrows one eye, pressing Ellis to dish at a 45 degree angle. Why does he want to know? No reason.
He tracks down the cup Ellis brought for him with his open hand, but doesn’t yet drink, securing it closer to his elbow. ]
Did you recruit anyone?
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You'd know if you met Teren.
[ She leaves an Impression. ]
Are you thinking about joining, or are you just curious?
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Slowly, he leans back again, and kicks up his boots one after the other to cross them over the adjacent chair. What were they talking about? ]
Do they welcome Rifters into their ranks?
[ He doubts it.
But they don’t have to call Teren right now. He drops his crystal (thonk) onto the table, and tries to sober himself with a deep drink of water instead. ]
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Whether Richard is interested or not, Ellis gives it due consideration. Would they? He doubts a Rifter would be turned away. Ellis would have given a Rifter the rite, though he's hardly equipped for it now. ]
I don't know, but I can't imagine they wouldn't.
[ The Wardens are almost as mismatched an assortment of an organization as Riftwatch, now that Ellis considers it. His fingers tap the wrist of his right hand, remembering. ]
Our enemy outnumbers us, thousands upon thousands. If a Rifter wanted to serve...
[ A shrug. His hand settles on the table. ]
But I do not make those decisions. Maybe it is being debated in the Anderfels at this moment.
[ Ha. ]
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[ Dick scuffs water out of his beard with his sleeve, sets the cup aside, and leans back far enough to dip a casual look under the table. Just checking. ]
But that sounds like a ‘them’ problem. [ If Ellis doesn’t make those decisions.
Back to eye level, Richard reaches up to unfasten his collar, dumb in the fingertips. But he gets it done, loosening up a little more room for him to sigh in. The trace flicker of a tiny tongue follows his thumb out of the mix, the owner camouflaged around the back of his neck, or coiled in some unseen pocket. ]
So you’ve recruited myself and who else?
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Are you expecting to meet them?
[ Which leads to the slightly grim question of how many are still alive.
Ellis certainly doesn't know. He can only assume much has happened since he's been avoiding all contact with the world. Who knows how many of the Wardens he'd known who survived the ritual were still in the Anderfels, or in Orlais? They could very easily have died some other way. Wardens aren't known for their long lives, and the darkspawn hadn't ceased to be a threat just because of the state of the world. ]
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[ The snake is gone as swiftly as she’d appeared, a forked tongue, a glitter of dark scales against pale skin, and a shift under his jacket. Richard laces his hands together over his middle, thoroughly settled in.
His eyes are still more keen than they have a right to be, considering the state of him. ]
I’ll find my way back to my quarters eventually. You don’t have to stay here.
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[ Easy things to say to a drunk snake. ]
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Do you find that you’re highly motivated to act on what you want or enjoy personally?
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[ Which could mean any number of things, really. It's hedging around no; the activities Riftwatch gets up to are often a singular exception. ]
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[ Ankles crossed, he rocks one boot restlessly over the other, keeping loose time with the music, distant as it is. ]
Albeit one most free humans can afford.
shorter richard: https://i.ibb.co/9ryRJwX/e90057187924094ab5c9d127a9ed073b.png
But no. Ellis doesn't think of the lighter moments, the shared conversation and song around campfires or in the wake of a scuffle. It has been some time since he could draw on those memories without feeling the full weight of his decisions bowing his shoulders. ]
Were you ever one for parties?
[ or is it just Riftwatch, Ellis, etc ]
correct
[ Ellis has taken his wine bottle, and his wine cup, and his path to retrieving replacements. Richard calculates, and decides willfully against reaching for the snuffbox sharing a pocket with his snake. He inclines his head instead, studying.
Wbu? ]
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Is this one compulsory?
no subject