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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Sonia is throwing this party for everyone, because everyone deserves to be drunk. But seeing as she was kidnapped before she got around to having a birthday party, it's a little bit of that, too. A little gift to herself, as it were. She likes to see people happy, drinking, dancing, just as much as she likes it herself. It replenishes a warmth in her, something that had gone frighteningly cold after the Crossroads.

But now that she's back here, back home, she's fine. There are no more Venatori kidnappers dragging her around, no more dank, humid jungle or its myriad of insects. She is here, back among friends and family, and she is fine. Everything is normal now! This is a testament to her normalcy! She doesn't need to talk about that at all. She only needs to drink, lots. And dance.

the three stages of drunk sonia
i. tipsy hostess
Sonia loves playing hostess, even when the space is a borrowed one, but she lives in this tower, too, so isn't it just a little bit her suite, too? She flits around the party with a sunny smile, eager to catch up with friends she's been separated from in the last month. She is as bright as ever, her laughter loud and uninhibited, as though those tropical trials are already funny stories to be told over cups. Sonia is here only to laugh, tonight.

She's ready with a drink if yours is running low, or if your hand is suspiciously empty. She's just a good host like that. And it's a terrific time to make new friends, too -- an excellent first impression, she thinks, finally out of the elements and in her element.

ii. the dance floor drunk
A few more drinks, and Sonia is riding high. With grace, of course; one does not get drunk regularly at the Denerim party circuit without learning to hold one's liquor, and Sonia has a deceptively high tolerance. Her eyes are bright, her cheeks are flushed, but she has no trouble holding herself upright -- or dancing, for that matter. She may lack musical talent, but she knows how to move, and more than anything else, takes great joy in doing so. This is the best part of the night for a dance, she insists, and if she sees anyone standing around looking bored or lonely, she won't hesitate to pull them in for a dance. And when she stops to catch her breath on the sidelines, she'll chat up just about anyone standing around. There's no better place to make new friends than a good party.

iii. the afterparty pre-hangover
The problem with parties is that they all end eventually. As the night winds down and the room starts to empty out, the adrenaline goes out with the guests, and Sonia's unguarded mind is left with uncomfortable thoughts that make her stomach squirm. She hadn't considered the possibility that being alone with her thoughts after drinking would be the worst position to put herself in, nor had she considered that a month without alcohol might cut into her tolerance some. The night is almost over, and she feels like she might cry or be sick or both. And it was such a good party.

wildcard
[ hit me at

runawayballista for planning! ]

Edited 2020-06-25 01:53 (UTC)

Mid-swing through the dance floor, a hand grabs hers and pulls her in. Byerly pulls her in close and begins dancing with her, energetically, cheerfully, almost manic in his enthusiasm.

"A brilliant party, dear cousin," he says. "You've lost your touch not at all."

i. Fiddlin'
[ By has his violin. And, perhaps pleasingly or perhaps irritatingly (depending on your opinion of the man), he plays it exceedingly well. Slow songs are swellingly romantic or marvelously tuneful, when a slow song is played. But slow songs aren't his forte, not compared to the quick ones - joyous reels with frenzied bowing, with embellishments and improvisation aplenty.

He even manages to marry playing and dance, on some of the more familiar (Fereldan country) tunes: as he plays, he skips lithely amongst the dancers, not even missing a note as he weaves in and out of the patterns they're dancing. ]

ii. Dancin'
[ At some point, there will be an inevitable quadrille, in which Byerly will take part. And so you may find yourself touching palms with him, following the figures that make up the dance. And at that time, you will be subjected to conversation with him, which will lead with: ]

You dance beautifully.

[ Mocking? Sincere? Who's to say? ]

iii. Drinkin'
[ And By is here, of course, to get stinking drunk. He puts away a rather astonishing amount of alcohol for a man of his weight class, and not just wine - hard spirits, real rotgut. The more he drinks, though, the clearer he speaks; in contrast to most parties, where he's slurring and stumbling, he's actually now quite graceful and articulate. If you catch him in conversation, you may well hear more sincerity, delivered more eloquently, than you would at any other time. ]

Edited 2020-06-25 02:56 (UTC)

Sonia lets out a noise of surprise that turns into a laugh as Byerly's face whirls into view, her eyes brightening into a smile. Byerly was home in the jungle, and he's home here, too, and especially at this party, a fond echo of the nights they used to spend in Denerim. She leans into the swing and lets the momentum carry her, moving easily with the music.

"I'm delighted to hear it," she says, almost singsong. "It's been so long, I was worried I'd forgotten what a real party looks like."

"Not a single monkey - " He plants a kiss on one cheek - "Nor a leech - " A kiss on the other cheek - "And we both smell heavenly." The third kiss ends up on her forehead. "A vast improvement over the sorts of parties we were having out there."

It's been a while since he's been to a party -- a proper party -- and he'd been initially a little reluctant. Something about a strange new place, wanting to keep his wits about him, all that. That hadn't stopped him from dressing as nicely as he could manage (all trim and tailored clothes in dark colors; he has a theme to keep to), though, and those concerns drain away quite quickly, lulled into sleep by the music and the dancing.

The hostess in particular has caught Vanadi's eye, and tonight, for the first time in a long time ... he's feeling charming. It shows in the warm smile as he approaches, preemptively setting his drink down on a nearby table.

"You're quite good," he says, with a brief but admiring flick of a once-over. "Perhaps you might be willing to show me the steps?"

[ No instruments have ever stuck to Vanadi, despite numerous lessons, and he never regrets it more than when listening to someone truly skilled. Vanadi stands nearby, drink in hand, eyes closed as he appreciates the swells and flourishes. He hasn't caught this particular musician's name yet -- he'll have it later, one way or another. For now he's only an appreciative audience member. As the song wraps up, should he happen to catch his eye, Vanadi offers Byerly a cheeky little salute with his glass, accompanied by a nod of thanks. ]

[ Some kind of improvised step in the dance currently taking place sends Athessa twirling into Byerly. Hardly a collision of note, she barely bumps him with enough force to knock a glass over, much less a man a full foot taller than herself.

But since she appears to be two out of three sheets to the wind, it's enough to have her tottering, hooking his arm for balance as her peals of laughter threaten to finish the job that dance move started. ]

That dance. Is not for th' faint of heart.

i. E'ERBODY IN THE CLUB GETTIN' TIPSY

Holy shit, she's missed parties. And okay, it's not really anything like the parties she's been to. For one thing, they're in a building and for another, it's not a condemned building. The booze might also be better, though it's not exactly hard to top the kind of shit rowdy teenagers get their hands on.

Either way. It's a party and she's drinking, already loose limbed and mellow from the mild buzz. When she happens to catch someone's eye, she winks. "Hey babe, wanna dance?"

ii. A LITTLE PARTY NEVER KILLED NOBODY

There hits a point where the alcohol and the music really hit right and a manic energy lights up Jenny Lou's whole being. Which is when she slams (another) shot and turns to look at the person next to her with a wild grin.

"Dude. Fire pit."

iii. Wind down

Jenny Lou is the type to show up early and stay late. Old habits die hard and also she's hitting the not super sure about the walking thing stage. As the room starts to empty, she starts looking for flat surfaces to lie on. Like a table. Or the floor behind one of the fancy couches. Where she will be stretched out on her back, her arms behind her head and whistling an off key tune that stirs up a soft breeze, swirling around her.

Sidony is far less tipsy than the rest of her fellows; she's had a glass of wine and is mulling over her second now, sipping at it absently as she makes herself comfortable. Her dress may be a little more formal than most might expect, but she had scraped it together and she was pleased to have more than just a moments chance to show it off - beyond Byerly, who she is sure would give her acclaim no matter what sort of dress she planned to wear, or Athessa who would rather have her out of it.

Putting her glass to one side, likely to be forgotten, she steps out to take Sonia's hand, laughing softly.

"It's been some time since I danced, cousin."

[ Sidony has learned a great deal of Byerly in recent months, of course, but this is something different. There's something far more about him here, with music surrounding him played from the tips of his very fine fingers, something that she cannot quite put a name to. It does enchant her and she thinks if she were the kind of woman that might be interested in his ilk she would fall in love with him on the spot.

Lucky for them both that isn't what they're interested in.

Her eyes follow him as he moves and plays and it's only when he pauses for a moment that she offers him a glass - water, for now, to give him something before she gives him the other hand - wine. ]

Marvellous, darling.

[ Oh.

But what had she expected, coming to this party, with this hostess, in a room small enough that one can't readily see who one might turn and find? She should have gone home when she'd heard the violin, but she'd set her jaw and breathed her body into the neutral laxity of a Bard's and turned on the bright sparkle of her smile and appropriated an entire bottle of wine and resolved to dance instead. Let it not be said that Alexandrie had a quailing coward heart.

Even if the difference in the length of their fingers held like this is the same as it had been in another crowded room, in another quadrille.

But she smiles, she smiles, too long practiced for the painstakingly painted curve to desert her now, and adjusts the length of her steps to his height. Flutters her eyelashes in response to the compliment outrageously enough to spin her truths to lies. Counts the measures in her head to drown out their hands. ]

Life must have some constants, no?

It is a shared feeling, and one inching towards "both" with enough determination to have made Alexandrie slow to begin her movement away from the window she'd been blurrily staring out of for the last...

She doesn't know, actually.

Enough time to make it possible to steel herself to turn away from the sky and catch sight of the hostess looking much as she feels.

"A party well worth the name, Lady Barra," she says, setting down the glass she's only now realized she's still holding with exaggerated care on the nearest horizontal surface. "Do say you have servants here to pick up after us."

a. dance card
[Wysteria is by no means a dancer of singular poise nor grace, but she is an enthusiastic one and is at the very least capable of avoiding trampling her partner's feet. Further, between Riftwatch's penchant for sending anyone with the slightest air of respectability to events where important things might be accomplished on or surrounding dance floors and the etiquette classes posed months ago, she has memorized enough of the patterns to not end up spinning the wrong way round or clipping pairs in passing.

One of two possibilities is nearly inevitable. Either at some point during the a dance where partners are swapped and traded ad infinitum, she will be swapped and laugh as she stumbles through the hand off, or she will be lingering at the fringe of the dance floor with the appearance of someone all too willing to accept virtually any invitation out onto it.]

b. witty repartee
It's a shame that a fine night of dancing so consistently requires some awful occurence as a partner. I realize we are a most serious outfit and that Riftwatch's budget is rather narrow, but I can hardly recall the last time a party was hosted in or near the Gallows which was not either preceded or followed by being brutalized at length.

[Sitting in one of the chairs dragged up and lined against the wall, Wysteria is slightly pink in every direction - flush from dancing, or from drinking, or simply emphasized by the rose color of her voluminous array of skirts]

What I mean to say is that I do hope no one is stabbed or conspires to fall off the ramparts or some other tragedy befalls us this evening. But given the givens - I personally shall endeavor to stay away from sharp objects and heights.

[Ha ha. We have fun here and she is quite obviously the epitome of cleverness.]

c. wildcard
[Here for a good time, not a long time - literally. Wysteria will probably bounce before the party's energy starts to wind down, but is absolutely have a delightful enough time to end up being induced to mischief elsewhere in the Gallows or end up sleeping in her party clothes.]

[ And By, in return, lowers his head, and uses his bow to play upon his violin the precise prosody of the phrase thank you. It's a little creepy, but also a little delightful. ]

Any requests?

A good thing that you're so stalwart, then.

[ And then By does a rather strange thing: he half bends down, apparently offering his back to clamber up onto. ]

[ He's just a little winded. When he takes the water, he pauses before drinking it, catching his breath before tossing it back. Then he sets the glass aside, and kisses her gratefully on the forehead. ]

What a glorious wife you are, my dearest.

[ The voice, he thinks faintly, sounds a bit familiar. But that's no surprise, is it? A party like this, a man as attractive as that, certainly Vanadi would have heard him speaking to someone by now. He sets the thought aside and draws nearer, looking thoughtful. ]

I'm afraid we're not likely to have any overlap in familiarity. [ He shrugs vaguely; rifter, what can you do? ] But I'd happily settle for a favorite of yours.

Vanadi is feeling it too, he has to admit. It's been a while since he's enjoyed himself like this, since he's let himself enjoy himself like this, and it's got him in a good mood. That is, until there's this child at his elbow, demanding fire. Vanadi blinks, some of his blissful comfort wavering into confusion.

"I beg your pardon?"

[ Byerly is quite tipsy. Tilting into drunk. Under normal circumstances, he'd have recognized: he's had a long parting from Alexandrie, and that calls for kindness. It is Sonia's party, and that calls for kindness, as well. But drink loosens his tongue, makes him too bold and too honest. And so he cracks a sardonic little smile, and says to Alexandrie - ]

I hope you're not going to abandon me, now.

Hm.

[ Likewise, this man's voice is familiar. But by this point, By is a little too soused to think about it too deeply. Instead, he lifts the bow, and asks - ]

Happy or sad?

Happy. [ An automatic answer, even if not the one his moping heart might typically prefer. ] Of course. This is hardly the evening for anything else, yes?

That I am--what. What're ya doin'?

[ It takes a great deal of self-control to not simply hop on his back and delight in getting someone like Byerly to carry her, but while she may seem to be drunk as a skunk, she hasn't touched a drink since...well. Probably since Eshal's drinking contest. ]

Edited (can't remember timelines) 2020-06-26 00:54 (UTC)

Hop on.

[ He turns around to look at her, face innocent. ]

Come on.

i. general merriment

[ There's music, there's food, there's drinking, it's a recipe for success as far as parties go. And while Athessa can neither cook nor supply drink, she can sing and she can dance. She'll wait for the right tune to be playing to start up a well-known tavern song, bouncing between party-goers to try and coax them into singing along until there are more voices than not pitching in. She has a voice like a songbird, but she's not trying to show anyone up or be the center of attention; the songs she chooses can be sung even by the hopelessly tone-deaf. ]

ii. as the night goes on

[ Time passes, as do songs and dance numbers and trips to the de facto bar, and Athessa seems to be as drunk as the next person and never more. In truth, she hasn't touched a drop of alcohol since Eshal's drinking contest many months prior, but she's getting very, very good at pretending. Far be it from Athessa to bring the mood of the party down.

Sometimes, she might disappear for a few minutes, which is when the acting stops and she lets the stillness outside of the party soothe raw nerves and overstimulated senses. ]

iii. accidentally on purpose

[ It's no accident that by the height of drunkenness, Athessa is hanging around whoever is the most drunk, and the most potentially destructive. She'll follow behind, having a good time and somehow preventing--through acts of apparent fumbling--any damages to occur. Catching a vase here, a glass there, it's honestly masterful. ]

iv. wildcard

[ you know what to do ]

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[ open: all arise! ]

sonia | ota

ii

Byerly, ota

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ii

i!

iii. I drinked a drink of drinks gone by

jenny lou | ota

wildcardish

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ii.

iii.

wysteria, ota

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ii

no subject

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athessa | ota