faderift | SATINALIA 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO.

WHO: All
WHAT: A second crack at celebrating Satinalia, because we deserve nice things.
WHEN: Mid-Firstfall
WHERE: The Gallows, in the gardens.
NOTES: n/a

It's twilight when Second Satinalia is in its fullest swing. The weather is unseasonably warm, and so they've made use of the gardens as the site for partying. Carefully placed lanterns shine through the odd tree or hover over bushes that have since lost their flowers.

However, decoration makes up for the lack of springtime flora. The space is decorated in shining garlands of gold and silver ribbons, paper flowers, and hanging ornamentations that flip between moons and suns. (If they look a little used, it's because these are second-hand decorations from slightly more affluent Satinalia parties been and gone, borrowed or donated.) There is also a firepit, providing a source of warmth and light.

In the invitations that went out, everyone was encouraged to come in costume as they'd intended to, but noted that for those whom their costumes were ruined or they would simply like to wear something different, there will be masks available, along with some costume pieces—fake jewelry, big hats, faux-velvet and harlequin coats, and so on, though they must be given back, s'il vous plaît. Florent will also offer his abilities in face painting and makeup prior to the party beginning, and will talk you into going spooky in case more skeletons come and they need to blend in to throw them off. (He can be found with his own stylish paintwork, a skeletal design in silver and white and grey.)

Everyone has also been invited to bring along some food and drink if they have it, as their budget is run a bit thin, but there will definitely be enough wine to go around, and some fruits and sweet pastries purchased from the market that day all offered on a table.

There is some music, a few local musicians (who have been promised, variously, tickets to shows, or work opportunities with certain prominent Orlesian playhouses, which may or may not be legitimate) set up with a fiddle, some percussion instruments, something that resembles a very elaborate xylophone, all playing a diverse array of up tempo tunes that allow for a bit of dancing in the more open area of the garden, but otherwise suffuses the shadows and fractured conversations with pleasant noise.

Drink, be merry, don't kill anyone.

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[Har. Ellie watches his expression, the tone of his voice, and almost can guess the name before his says it, just by the vibe.]

Should've guessed. At least he didn't dress us like him.

... I mean, he did suggest me going as the Black Divine, but I've pissed off enough people lately.

Well, his other suggestion was to go as Gabranth, but frankly, I made the same assessment.

[He still sounds amused when he says it, though, like he thinks it would have been funny. The hand holding the glass tilts, showing the emblem on his glove-- it's the symbol of the Imperium, making the costume more clear. The Magister aesthetic suits him, at least.]

Still tempting fate slightly, mayhaps, albeit with a smaller risk of... very personal offense. I thought it would suffice.

[Ellie laughs aloud, a stifled snort as she tilts her head forward.]

God, he would've fucking sulked all evening.

[It's a hint, maybe, of how she feels about the guy -- maybe unfairly, but then, she hasn't seen enough to make a call there. She grins at the emblem; should've known.]

Regular Gabranth or sexy Gabranth?

Regular.

[The answer is near-immediate, with a little huff of an exhale.]

I am not wont to expose myself so; that is best left to Astarion, I believe.

[That doesn't sound judgmental-- he can do as he pleases, but Emet just isn't the type.]

[Ellie looks very much like she'd like to laugh, bites down on her lip to hold it back, eyes sparkling.]

Damn, you answered fast.

[But she glances at Astarion across the room, where he's being himself, fielding all the attention happily.]

Right? I think he likes pissing people off.

[The words are fond.]

Well, evidently a touch of irreverence is not out of place here. I expect that it will be fine.

[A hint of amusement, there, but he could easily be accused of a little fondness in his voice himself as he follows her gaze over. This sort of thing always seems more like his element, something Emet-Selch will watch without complaint.

More to himself:]

Seems to help, at the least.

There's touching and then there's... y'know.

[But Ellie says it laughingly, gesturing at Astarion's costume, and she absolutely picks up on the look of fondness. Her smile deepens; she's still not entirely trusting of Emet-Selch, but that doesn't mean she isn't starting to like him.

Then again, she's predisposed to liking anyone who sees the worth in that ridiculous fucking vampire.]

True enough. I wouldn't deign to expect just a touch of anything from him.

[It'd be underselling him, really.

But it's similar for Emet-- there's at least some degree of appreciation borne from that apparent similarity, despite not knowing her well. Some sort of familiarity in dealing with the man and continuing to do so.]

[Ellie snorts aloud into her drink, doesn't bother hiding a smile.]

Kind of an understatement.

I think he's dressed half the people at this party.

And I expect the party's general fashion is better for it, frankly.

[Hopefully, it was a little bit of a distraction from-- whatever has had him in a mood, recently.

A moment passes, there, before he asks-]

How long have you known each other?

Pretty sure his mouth's the only reason they haven't put him in diplomacy.

[Ellie gives Emet-Selch a slow glance, then makes a gesture towards the nearby stone bench, inviting him to sit. If they're going to talk, well...

He's doing a good job of hiding his hurts, but she saw the way he was holding himself when she approached.]

Ever since he first showed up, so... half a year, maybe less. Seems like longer. Shit.

I hated his guts for the first minute or so. He was being such an asshole.

[He takes that invitation, after a moment; he can move without any apparent sign anything is wrong, doesn't wince when he sits... but he does sit a little slower than usual, settling in more cautiously. Even when he's already been noticed, it seems like he's not keen to let it show too much.]

Unsurprising, [he says, with a slight grin.] He still is one, now.

[But after a moment, he does add:] We met as soon as I arrived. He helped drag me out of the damned rift.

[Ellie doesn't reference it further; she's not about to draw attention to someone's weakness, especially when he's going to such great pains to conceal it.

She doubts he feels safe here. With his history, anyone would be on their guard.

But Ellie returns the grin.]

He would. He might bitch about it, but he usually does the decent thing.

[Astarion would hate her talking like this, and the thought makes her grin wider.]

Better than that, if he likes you.

Well, don't let him hear you say so.

[He can definitely imagine Astarion's face if he overheard himself being talked about like this, and-- well, yes, it's pretty entertaining.]

But I certainly won't say that you did, either.

Good. I'd hate to think you were a snitch.

[Ellie gives him a real smile this time, crossing her arms across her chest. Against her better judgment, he's growing on her.]

I'll keep it quiet if you do.

Very well, then. I will consider that a deal.

[-and coming from someone like him, it would probably be easy for that to come off the wrong way, but the continued look of amusement and more relaxed posture hopefully ease the impression.]

Now, do you believe you are prepared to go back, or are you in need of an excuse to stay out of the festivities a while longer?

Deal.

[Perhaps it says something that she doesn't hesitate. Certain things best kept in confidence. She sighs, glancing back out at the floor.]

Yeah, I guess I'd better.

[She dusts off her gloves, adjusting them at the elbows, taking a moment before she glances up at him.]

If you need it, I've got a healing potion in my bag. My room's unlocked and it's by the door.

[Small kindness for a small kindness.]

SATINALIA 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO.

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