faderift | OPEN: this will be a better year

OPEN: this will be a better year

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: First Day
WHEN: Wintermarch 1 (forward-dated)
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Scouts from both the Western Approach and Emprise du Lion are welcome (but not required) to have returned to Skyhold in time for this event.

There have been better First Day feasts, and less crowded ones, and cheerier ones. It isn't a good year for many to look back on, and this one isn't starting any better. Reports from both Eastern and Western Orlais are grim. Many in the Inquisition can't afford to take more than a few hours away from their work, if that.

But for those who can, the ambassador does her best. At lunchtime some tables, hot food, and finery are reserved for visiting nobility and wealthy pilgrims--cause for grumbling in some quarters, perhaps, but they're the people filling the Inquisition's coffers, and allowances must be made--but there's plenty of stew, bread, and ale for everyone, even with the soldiers and refugees who stay outside the fortress invited inside for the holiday. The recently repaired garden and its carefully tended plants aren't off limits, but anyone noisy and holding a drink will be stopped at the door; the battlements, with their potential for deadly falls, are blocked by Inquisition guards. But the courtyards brim with people, most of them happy despite the possibility that the world might end before another First Day arrives.

If the courtyards are too full of tipsy visitors for comfort, there's also the valley beyond the fortress, expansive, barren, and covered in snow. By the river the soldiers help the refugees make a bonfire larger than would ever be allowed inside Skyhold's walls, and some lend their shields to use as sleds down the embankments. A group of scouts start the most intense game of hide and seek Thedas has ever seen, with snowballs to the face for whoever is found first. In the camp, a refugee girl with her hand wrapped in a green scarf chases other children around the tents, shouting raaar, I'm from the rifts!

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The individual responsible for stopping revelers at the door is one Sina Dahlasanor, who has parked herself on a blanket directly in front of the entryway from the main hall with a cup of tea in her hands and a few lyrium potions within reach. A thick barrier of roots and branches has miraculously grown up over the opening, a spell for which she recasts in perpetuity, though she graciously relaxes it for those who have business here or make a compelling case for wanting to escape the hubbub.

Anyone deemed too drunk who tries to argue their way in is met with a calm and silent shake of her head. She'll have none of it.

Edited 2015-12-31 03:32 (UTC)

[ Courtyard ]

What is a fine meal without music? Zevran takes his turn eating and drinking before setting up off to one side, playing songs that are decidedly less bawdy and raunchy than his previous performance in the tavern a few days ago. He is bundled against the heat, wrapped in a cloak, pausing between songs to warm his hands on a mug of mulled wine or hot tea. The bribery of a coin or a kiss can have a favored song played, and for a smile? He may even sing.

[ Bonfire ]

Here, now, are the high spirited songs. Those of the more common folk, those that wish to laugh and dance and live without the burdens of a noble life. Here Zevran strums and drums and stamps, trying to bring as much cheer as possible to those circling the bonfire in the dark of the evening. Now and then he will sweep in himself, taking a willing (or unwilling) individual by the hand and pull them around for a dance. It is a new year, the dawning of a new chapter in all of their lives. It should be met with joy and abandon!

He can also be found high in a tree, hurling snowballs at the hidden scouts- or those seeking them- or any wandering by looking too dour for his mood.

[ Wildcard ]

[ hit me with whatever, I will roll with it! ]

Sherlock has not always been the biggest fan of Wicked Grace. The way he and Mycroft used to play it, between all the cheating and misdirection and debates (especially that one time the Angel of Death was 'lost'), a single hand could go on interminably. In the years since, he's found that with a person or persons who are far less — enthusiastically competitive — it can be a welcome exercise. Something to do with his hands, to occupy the parts of his mind that would otherwise prevent him from focusing. This has led to more than one occasion of puzzling over a perplexing case in the middle of a gambling house. Tonight, it's more of an excuse to avoid the revelry.

There is a drink in front of him: once steaming, now lukewarm, looking much more like tea than anything alcoholic. It also smells dreadful, though only if one gets too close.

"Shards of raw red lyrium, jutting out of the ground," he muses as he sets down a card. He's been retelling the rescue of the mining captives in the Emprise. "No wonder the miners were going mad."

Distracted by admiring the bonfire, Korrin doesn't notice Zevran's proximity at first. But she's definitely made aware of it when her hand is seized and she's pulled in close. This doesn't faze her at all and she just flashes him a grin.

"Why yes, Zevran, I would love a dance. Thank you so much for asking."

[Courtyard]

Relieved to have made it back in time, Korrin is all about socializing now that she's had hours upon hours of much-needed rest. She'll search about for familiar faces, eager to catch up while spreading around ale or spiced wine. For her part, the Vashoth mage is pacing herself and isn't interested in ingesting enough to be inebriated just yet. There's a celebration to enjoy, after all.

[Bonfire]

Upon hearing about the creation of a bonfire, Korrin's eager to help with its creation. After setting it alight, she'll turn her attention to those gathering and join in on festivities. As it happens, she knows how to dance and isn't shy about nudging friends to join her, because why not? The same thing is liable to happen with sledding, as doing so alone just isn't as much fun. If friendly faces don't get to her about it first, it's a fair bet she'll drag them into it. Unfamiliar faces who also seem interested will be made an offer to join in as she spots them.

Amidst all that, she's keeping an eye out for a certain rifter woman with gorgeous curls and a hearstopping smile. Araceli has been in her thoughts ever since leaving Skyhold, so it's no surprise that she'll be seeking her out. Though given Korrin's height and horns, it's more likely she'll be spotted first. Still, that doesn't stop her from trying.

[Wildcard]

Place her anywhere!

Edited 2015-12-31 04:17 (UTC)

[ Bonfire ]

The courtyards a bit full for her peace of mind, Adelaide has herded her students down to the bonfire after their meal to relax, dance, and socialize. This many people from so many different places has given them an opportunity to simply be people rather than mages, huddled and afraid. Now and then one settles at her side where she's spread out a blanket somewhere dry and is sipping wine, but for the most part they carry on. Adelaide drinks mulled wine, hums along with the music, and can be coaxed or dragged into dancing easily enough. Her excuse for being so near the bonfire is to mind that no one becomes injured- but the warmth and the company is enough to settle her after a stressful month.

[ Valley ]

Here, though, in the clear and the cold she permits herself to do something frivolous with her magic. Hide and seek, snow ball fights, sledding- and the addition of a few scattered forts of snow and ice sculpted by her careful hand and the precise application of magic- one towering with a slide that led into a soft drift, one with high walls with spaces to stand and throw snow at one another, and a pair connected by a sturdy bridge. Strong enough to hold a grown man, safe enough for children to climb and slide and jump from if they so wished. It isn't healing, it isn't fighting- it's creating purely for the joy of doing so; well worth the effort and whatever attention it might bring her way. If asked she might even be compelled to create a few sculptures or smaller figurines of ice either for coin or simply for an excuse to continue working her magic.

[ Wildcard ]

[ choose your own adventure! ]

Edited 2015-12-31 02:56 (UTC)

[Courtyard]

Even the Commander can make a bit of time to come mingle with everyone. He apologizes to many for his absence as of late, citing Inquisition business for his lack of public appearance. It's been a variety of things, but now is not the time to dwell on them. It is the beginning of the new year, and a beginning for many things for the Inquisition. It is a time for old friends and new ones, a time to gather and be merry.

Happy is something Cullen will be all about right now. He's taken his fill of food, and when he was done trying to mingle with some of the more nobler of guests to insure everything was going quite well with the Inquisition's forces, he'll spend a great deal of time conversing with everyone.

[Bonfire]

Later that evening, Cullen is found by the bonfire, not by the rest of the adults, but by the refugee children who have dragged him into a snowball fight. He's knelt down by a little boy and girl, showing them how to pack their snowballs with care as so they won't break apart when they toss them at their friends.

As the children run off, he turns to throw the first one, and instead gets pummeled by the lot of them throwing their piles of snowballs at him. They're rewarded with laughter from Cullen, who is desperately trying to save himself from the onslaught. Looks like the Commander went into a battle he couldn't face on his own.

[Wildcard]

Edited 2015-12-31 03:07 (UTC)

"Commander." She'd set her wine aside earlier in favor of finding someone she should hope to keep up with the high spirit of the music; whether or not Cullen is such a person she can't say- but it does seem as though he ought to dance. "Might I borrow you for a song?"

Edited 2015-12-31 03:14 (UTC)

Ellana isn't terribly fond of the cold, but now that she wears boots, it's not nearly so terrible. She's found a battered old pair of gloves as well, and so she's ready to build snowballs to entertain the children. She knows very little ice magic, instead packing the balls by hand, and from her position she witnesses Cullen get covered in snow. The sight makes her giggle and toss the ball in her hand.

"You need to learn to duck!" And with that, she fires her snowball at him, to keep the children laughing. And because it's funny to her too, of course.

The forts don't go unnoticed, and a wide-eyed Korrin pauses as she stares up at one in particular. Of course she has to approach, unable to pass it by without investigating thoroughly. Adelaide's form is spotted in the corner of her eye and an impressed smile quickly forms as she turns to look.

"You did all this? It's incredible, Adelaide."

Christine returned to Skyhold yesterday and went right to work researching in the library. Then she went to take a nap and slept straight through the night in her tent instead, exhausted from the journey. Because of this, it's only now that she's getting to see her mentor once more, and she's quick to weave her way through the crowd of people at the bonfire to greet her.

"Adelaide!" she exclaims warmly. "How I have missed you."

"I knew you wouldn't mind!" He crackles a laugh, and while it is difficult to lead while so much shorter than one's partner- he will make a valiant attempt. "Come, Carina, we shall show them how to truly have a good time, yes?"

Courtyard

These people know how to party. Sure, it's a medieval party, but still a party. And parties have food, drink, and music. And all that other great shit. He's got some gloves on finally, for once, because, look, he's tired of having freezing fingers. It just makes it harder to identify him as a Rifter. And maybe that's a good thing! Don't mind him reveling in the food. And the drink. And actually trying to have a good time.

Bonfire

But this is where the action is. Which, y'know, is weird, because the action should be indoors, with warmth and people and safe, but apparently fuck those guys. Out here is also warm with the massive bonfire. Warmed by food and drink helps, too. Does he sled? Hell yeah he sleds with the others. He'll take a running start and jump on a shield. He's a little bit drunk but he doesn't care, because-- oof, he gets beaned in the face by cold, icy, stingy snow. He's dazed for a moment. But...but when the shock and the shittiness wear off, one of the scouts, cheeks ablaze, apologizes to him. And he realizes he's never had this chance before. To have a snowball fight.

Or build snowmen, or sled, or do anything with his own hands and skin. He scoops up a handful of snow and flings it at the scout who shrieks with laughter, ducking away back into another hiding spot. The kids, though, they start to join in.

[Bonfire]

A quiet chuckle escapes Alayre as he watches the children play. The courtyard is a little too busy for his liking, so he decides to venture elsewhere for the time being. The Templar finds himself away from the hustle and bustle of the Hold and lingering amongst the others with a mug of warm cider within his leather gloved hands.

Like everyone else, he's hopeful that the coming of the new year will bring more good than ill. Perhaps a brighter tomorrow awaits for them all now that a new dawn comes. With the Herald's death behind them and all the chaos that brewed, Alayre sincerely hopes that is true.

In attempt to put the New Order behind him for a day, Alayre forgoes his usual armor for something more low-key much like a rogue or scout. His dark blue cloak stands out a bit amongst the partygoers as he lingers by the sizable bonfire for warmth.

Wildcard
Come up with your own adventures!

Edited 2015-12-31 03:45 (UTC)

That brings out a slow grin and Korrin nods, readily matching her own steps to his without much issue. It's true that there hasn't been much room in her life for anything other than combat, but she has grace enough when it's called for. And right now, it most certainly is.

"Absolutely yes. If we can't make a glorious time of it, then no one stands a chance. Hit me with your best moves, I know I can keep up."

"They are a larger version of what I make in my focus drills every morning." She finishes the risen edge of a slide to prevent children from slipping off and falling into the snow with a gesture, turning to offer Korrin a wide, warm smile. It isn't often she is quite so free with them but it is a good night. "It felt appropriate."

"Titine!" Adelaide stands, arms open and smile bright. "You have been away for too long, the mornings have been so quiet without you."

Lessons continued, of course, but they'd been smaller, slighter.

"Very appropriate, I'd say. I had no idea you were so artistic. You ought to show off more." Korrin smiles up at the fort as she rests a gloved hand against it. "I've never thought to use ice magic like this; it's always just been freeze this enemy or that. There wasn't much room for anything less practical."

Cade remains always at a distance, remaining on the battlements or somewhere else equally out of the way for the duration of the evening. He watches the festivities with an air of solemnity and at times mild bewilderment, no doubt feeling himself unwelcome despite the openness of the event. He speaks to no one unless first spoken to, and for the most part seems to prefer that no one notice him at all.

"Are you familiar with some of the couples dances of Lower Antiva?" He adjusts his posture a bit, something taller, straighter- that requires a closer embrace with Korrin and leaves him more or less at eye height with her ever fine bosom.

"All LeBlancs are artists after a fashion. It's a courtly past time, painting or sculpting or writing. I was never terribly good with poetry or painting, but sculpture?" She holds out her hand, a small ice rose blooming in the center. "Makes for good practice. Usually they are this size and I move from one form to another."

While one might think that he ought to know how to dance, Cullen will say completely different. The Commander will confess he has two left feet, a thing he felt that didn't need too much repairing in his life. He might be one to protest, but it is a party, after all, and he would feel horrible to say no.

"If you insist. I must confess I'm not much of a dancer."

Rachette has had a long, long journey to the Western Approach and back again. While it's a shame to be back in the cold mountains again, she's glad to see warmth and food and festivities and food. Never enough food, to be honest. People might want to watch unattended plates. Or maybe anyone well-to-do should watch any silverware around. Things might go missing. Small things! But...missing. To eat or to sell or trade off later.

This is also a good time, while people are distracted, to see about any interestiiiiing...chests. Or doors. Or things that look like they might be filled with expensive things. Anything with locks for her to pick on. Hey, she might even be helpful to any drunken sods who are having trouble getting into their rooms and things!

Of course, she's also there to enjoy herself however she can. She'll drop off reports and maps other people have made tomorrow, give her own verbal recounting as well, but today is for merriment for a new year, apparently (has it been another year already?), and also blessed sleep when it comes.

Courtyard
Kitty is cheerful as she serves up mulled wine to the refugees and the soldiers. It's shit wine, make no mistake, but it's hot and sweet and spiced and quite heavenly in the cold. She pours it generously into any goblets held out to her, singing out cheerily as she does -

"Drink deep! Start the new year right. If you get good and cheerful today, that'll set the pattern for the rest of the year to come."

Bonfire
In contrast to her earlier outgoing cheer in the courtyard, Kitty has set herself a bit apart from the others at the bonfire, and she's quiet and pensive. She's close enough to the fire to absorb some of the heat, but she's sitting still, her head tipped back to stare at the stars. The sky is a little less terrifyingly huge at night, she finds - the disconcerting blueness a more familiar black, the stars a bit like glinting rock embedded in a cavern's roof. It's so blastedly cold, though - she might potentially move a little closer to someone who's a little bit larger, trying to use them as a windbreak so that she can deal with the chill better.

"And you shall never improve if you do not make a token attempt now and then." She offers him her hand, grinning. "I promise I will do my best to make you look good."

Grace is something she had been trained in early on, and while she is no grand noble she can follow the music well enough and keep up with most. Leading from following is something she'd had to do many a time in the Spire, here it shall be no different.

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Page 1 of 96

OPEN: this will be a better year

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Zevran Arainai

Off in a corner - Sherlock and Fenris

Bonfire

Korrin Ataash

Adelaide LeBlanc

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Wildcard > Dance?

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Bonfire

Church

Alayre Sauveterre

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Dance!

Rachette

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Dance!?