SATINALIA

[incaenstrix]

WHO: Everybody!!
WHAT: SATINALIA!!
WHEN: Backdated to the first day of Firstfall
WHERE: Gallows courtyard
NOTES: Drunkenness and shenanigans. HALLOWEENMAS!!

This Satinalia is, perhaps, less grand than in years past. Blockades are still limiting access to luxury goods, after all, so the fine liquors and dainty foods that have been featured before are nowhere to be found. And Tertia, the temporary Morale Officer, doesn't have the connections or deft touch of organizers past, so things are rougher than they've been before - the musicians are less polished, the ale a little more watered-down, the decorations somewhat haphazard.

But you know what? It's still Satinalia. Nothing can really screw up Satinalia. Especially because there are some rather lovely touches, the best of which might well be the ice skating rink. A section of the Gallows Courtyard has been roped off and frozen over with magic, leaving a (largely) smooth sheet of ice covering it. Skates are available to borrow if you don't have a pair. Of course, some injuries are definitely going to result (if you skate off the edge, you're smacking into stone instead of a soft snowbank, which can be disastrous), but hey, it's fun.

Other perks are the bonfires, with mulled wine and cider being served out of cauldrons around them, where people might sit and reflect while watching the flame. There's also dancing, of course, with the musicians basically being any band that's been recommended by members of Riftwatch - so there are lots of half-competent cousins-of-friends playing here. What they lack in skill they make up for in enthusiasm; this is the first gig for a lot of them, and they're thrilled to be here.

One thing that's missing is the Satinalia fool being named ruler. Tertia wasn't familiar with this tradition and didn't arrange it - so there's a last-minute campaign being held, in which people can either nominate others or self-nominate to be named Riftwatch's greatest fool to be celebrated.

Enjoy yourself. Exchange presents. Get drunk. Have a blast. Don't lose any teeth.

Comments

sidony | ota

[indissection]

ICE SKATING.

[ Sidony is not an adept master of skating upon ice, given her upbringing, but she is determined to make a real attempt to ensure that she enjoys some measure of the holiday. It's been a rather difficult few weeks for her, so trying to drag some joy out of something that is intended to be blissful seems the least that she can do.

She can even ignore the magic used to make it; her feelings towards the use of magic is a little less stern than they had been a few years ago, thanks to friendships and the clear, clever use of it.

Borrowing some ice skates makes her nose wrinkle, but she takes it in her stride and gives it her best go. She's wobbly, a little childish with the way that she moves, unsettled on her legs, but it's clear that she has no intention on giving up. She pushes herself off the edge and has her arms opened out wide - so she is absolutely prepared to run into someone if she isn't careful.

Eventually, when she is chilled and a little too red-faced to deal with being on the ice any longer, she steps aside and begins to tend to those who have found themselves a little hurt thanks to their adventures. ]

BONFIRES.

[ Despite being beside a fire and looking as though she ought to be a little less well dressed, Sidony is still wearing some finery, letting herself enjoy a moment to dress up and act as though she is more put together than she actually is. She has little else to spend her money on, so she might as well use it to make herself feel better when her confidence is at its worst.

Settling down, letting her skirt fall around her, she stares into the fire for a long time.

If someone comes to disturb her, she reaches out and welcomes them with a smile, offering some of her wine without too much hesitation. That, if nothing else, may speak more for her change in character: she is not often one to share something quite as dear to her as her own drink. ]

DANCING.

[ The dancing has always been her favourite of the celebrations, and she is quick to lend herself to the event with almost gleeful abandon.

There's a sad little part of her that feels sour to be here alone, to not be able to share it with someone she cares for deeply, and she buries that somewhere deep in her stomach. Now isn't really the kind of celebration for sadness, and thus Sidony focusses instead on the fact that she can finally allow herself to smile, to let lose, to bask in the joy that is the freedom to dance.

Anyone who does dance with her will notice that she is missing the middle fingers of her right hand, and burn scarring stains the forearm skin going up towards the shoulder. She doesn't comment on it: simply does her best to continue to dance despite the injury. ]

WILDCARD.

( Do whatever, I will match! <3 )

Bonfires

[armd]

(Abby is not dressed fancily, but she has made an effort to look neat and tidy. Most notably her hair is not in its usual style: with the aid of a few ribbons for decoration, she has managed to pull it into a sort of braided circlet ringing her head. Shorter strands about her temples didn't make it into the final product, but they frame her face instead, wispy and pretty. Despite her efforts she feels scruffy next to Sidony, but not for the first time.

The offer of wine is accepted, Abby staring into the fire as she brings the cup to her lips. The mood feels a little sombre here, and quiet. It's nice. A moment of respite sorely needed, before Abby tries to join in on the dancing.

After a moment, she finds she has to break the silence to ask,) Aren't you cold? (She has a jacket she could offer.)

[indissection]

[ If there is an event to dress up for then, unfortunately, Sidony must attempt to look as though she is the best dressed there no matter what. There is no denying that there is a slight chill to the air, the pinks of her cheeks lightly from the bite of cold, but the fire seems to be doing a decent enough job of keeping her warm until she throws herself into the dancing once again.

She needed a break, if only to stop all the silly, awkward conversations.

Lifting her head up to look at Abby - sometimes she forgets quite how tall she is, and it's beyond charming when she remembers - Sidony hums, reaching up to push a few strands of her hair out of her eyes. Much better. ]

Not particularly. The fire and the company is more than enough for me this evening, I think. How are you finding the celebrations?

[armd]

(Well, she does look like she is the best dressed there, easy. Has she noticed her own husband is dressed like a cat?

True to her word, Sidony's fingertips are soft and warm when she brushes bits of hair out of Abby's eyes for her. Abby lowers the cup of wine. She passes it back, with a murmur of gratitude.) They're good, (she confesses, her head tipping back as she looks up. Because Sidony both touched it and looked she adds, self-consciously,) Does it look okay? I- haven't really done it like this before.

[indissection]

[ Sidony is careful with her interactions; she keeps her damaged hand on her lap, letting her left hand be the one to touch and nudge hair gently, her expression serene despite how careful she is being.

Shaking her head, she examines Abby properly before she smiles. ]

I think it looks wonderful. Did you do it yourself? It suits you.

[armd]

(Abby grins, clearly pleased with herself. Her hand drifts to the nape of her neck and rubs in, pressing the warmth from the fire against her skin.) Thanks. Gwenaëlle gave me some ribbons for Satinalia, so I figured I should try using them before they turn into bookmarks. (That fate will befell them eventually, but for now they do look handsome twisted up into her hair, a splash of blue against her dark blonde braids.)

Took a couple tries, though. I need more practice. (And because Sidony always looks so nice,) Maybe you could show me how you do yours sometime?

[indissection]

They're very handsome. Gwenaëlle has always had excellent taste in clothing. [ An idle compliment easily given. She spends a little more time just looking at Abby, as if examining her, before she settles back and allows herself to just relax. It's not as though she has to put on any airs or pretences here; there are no expectations of her.

It doesn't make it easier. ]

I would be more than happy to. You can even practice on my hair if you'd like.

[armd]

Thanks. (Sidony is still looking at her. Abby can't help but feel measured by an invisible standard and has to resist the urge to fiddle with a bit of loose hair. She's been wanting to say something- about Adra, obviously, acknowledging her absence. They weren't overly close but Abby liked her, and she knows how close she was with Sidony.

Before she can say anything at all, Sidony breaks the eye contact. Abby can't tell if she's relieved or not.)

Yeah? I'd- yeah, that'd be cool. (She grins.) But I should probably tell you now that you're never getting me into a dress like that. I'll do the braids, but that's it. (She's perfectly happy in her trousers and shirts and woolen vests.)

[indissection]

I have no intention of sharing my taste with anyone, I can assure you. I will simply have to aid you in finding other fashion to best suit you.

[ Sidony's eyes do drag up and down Abby again, though, almost deliberate, and her smile settles into something a little gentler. ]

I think there is some Nevarran fashion that would suit you terribly well. No skirts, I promise, nor any of my fancy shoes.

[armd]

(This time she clues in on Sidony looking at her for longer than is strictly necessary, and her head tilts curiously to one side, returning her gaze. She wishes she had her own cup of mulled cider to drink now, maybe she should go and get something.

Admittedly,) That would help. I'm- (it seems stupid to her, but she'll easily say it to a friend,) not great at this stuff. Fashion. Or knowing what looks good. All I know is what I don't like. (The fancy dresses, for example, but- maybe a skirt would be okay, for special occasions. If it was long, and easy to run in.)

[indissection]

[ She's careful with it, just subtle enough for second guessing, but there's no denying that Abby is nice to look at. There's no reason to hide it, either.

Not anymore. ]

I am rather proficient in that area. I would be more than happy to help you, if it was something you desired.

[armd]

('Desired' is... such a strong word (it's just fashion!) but Abby nods anyway, and tucks her clasped hands between her knees. She's been trying to think of ways that her and Sidony could hang out more often anyway.)

Okay. (And cuz she doesn't wanna be a drag and take without giving she adds,) Is there anything I could help you with?

[indissection]

[ It's an easy enough offer to make, and Sidony nods her head, already planning up a few things in the back of her mind. ]

I'm sure I can find something that will need carrying at some point.

ice skating, just lmk if any edits needed!

[portalling]

[ The rifter isn’t actually skating himself, but he’s lingering on the outskirts and watching the others take their best shots at it, with a small touch of amusement at the people gambolling: talented skaters doing graceful loops, others colliding with each other or tripping over their own skates.

When one of the latter has a particularly bad fall — running facefirst into the stone and then wobbling away, nose streaming blood onto the ice — Strange instinctively starts forward. But that elegantly-dressed woman beats to it, and so he watches from afar as she tends to the injured. Their head tilted back, a cloth pressed to their face, attentive to what might be a growing bruise around their eye. Evidently they’re not too grievously harmed, though, and so the first aid doesn’t take long. When the woman comes back this way and passes him, he finally speaks up. ]

Are you a doctor?

[indissection]

[ Hearing that sort of question from people always puts Sidony a little on edge, especially with the recent influx of Rifters informing her of just how out of date a lot of the theories in Thedas currently are when it comes to medicine. All the same, she is incredibly proud of her knowledge and skills - and thus she turns to the stranger with a lift of her head, looking him up and down for a moment before she nods. ]

I am. One of Riftwatch's most foremost surgeons, to be truthful. Why?

[ She's not entirely sure if that will continue to be the case, with her missing fingers, but she has not decided to throw in the towel yet. If nothing else she will simply have to learn to use a needle with the same proficiency with her less dominant hand, which wouldn't be too much of a compromise.

She thinks. Or, rather, she hopes. ]

[portalling]

[ Strange has already made an ass of himself in a nearby town, but upon hearing ‘one of Riftwatch’s most foremost surgeons’ from her mouth, instead of condescension he simply experiences that warm flicker of familiarity; of running across, of all things, a colleague. A knife is a knife, and the bloodied hands holding said knife are still, well, a surgeon’s hands. She looks young, but skill is skill, and he needs whatever assistance he can get. ]

Oh, thank god. I’d popped my head into the infirmary a few times, but haven’t run into you yet—

I’m Doctor Stephen Strange. I was a surgeon back in my own world. [ He holds out a hand with scarred, crooked fingers: his demeanour crisp, polite, professional, as if they’re meeting at a surgical conference. ] If it’s not too much trouble, I was hoping to consult a local doctor. To help fill in my knowledge of Theodosian plants and poultices, what works as painkillers and what works as stimulants, and so on. Not tonight, of course, I assume we’re off the clock— but in general.

[indissection]

[ It’s almost a relief to not be met with distrust or arrogance in the face of her occupation - she’s well accustomed to it, from men and Rifters especially, so some of the tension in her shoulders eases away. She lets herself look at Strange properly, her eyes flicking up and down, before she nods her head and reaches out to take his hand for a proper shake, using her left hand.

It seems she has decided to be pleasant today. ]

I have not been there lately, so that may be why. I have been… recovering.

[ Nodding her head, she offers a gentle, polite smile before she replies. ]

I have some books that would most certainly be useful to you, and I am more than willing to spend a little time discussing it. Tell me… Would you be able to explain ‘germ theory’ to me? A friend mentioned it but wasn’t particularly specific.

[portalling]

More than willing. I didn’t want to raid the shelves myself for reference material without knowing what was outdated, what’s the most reliable, and so on.

[ When she asks about germ theory, though, there’s a flicker of surprise across the man’s face — then smoothing over, before she thinks he’s laughing at her. ]

Great timing. This actually came up in the town of Cledwyn the other day. [ It did not go well. People hadn’t been receptive to Strange’s scientific explanations. But she’s asking, so: ]

The germ theory of disease is— I know this sounds daft and imaginary as hell, but there are these micro-organisms too small for the eye to see without magnification. Pathogens and germs can grow and reproduce and cause disease in their living hosts. It might be as simple as a sick person coughing on someone else, which can transmit germs in their breath, their saliva.

Germs proliferate in unhygienic environments especially. So, for example, if you’ve noticed that washing your hands with soap before surgery will help the wound heal better and reduce the chance of infection. Boiled water kills germs, and so is less likely to make you ill. Alcohol, too, actually, which is why beer might be safe to drink even when the local water isn’t.

[ Finally, Strange stops. A faint touch of sheepishness as he says, ] I went on for a bit. Magical healing’s all well and good, but it’s just nice to have a question from an actual colleague.

[ Even to this day, he still thinks of himself as doctor right alongside the sorcery. ]

[indissection]

There is a great deal of knowledge here that seems accurate, but there is less willingness to perform proper dissections and the desire to learn more of the human body. I sought to remedy that.

[ Imagine if she actually told people the story of how she met her husband - bonding over the sharing of dead bodies. It would leave the Chantry in a state of shock and horror, she thinks, which is amusing enough.

Sidony, at least, is willing to learn a little more of the world, especially when Abby had not been able to give her a great deal of specifics - so she is already rather thrilled at the notion of speaking to someone who seems to have their head attached properly. ]

Is there a way for us to produce that level of magnification here? I am willing to give you the benefit of knowledge from other worlds, but I would like to see the evidence of it. Then, perhaps, I can conduct my own studies.

[ She waves her hand - the one missing fingers, forgetful of her - absently. ]

I do not mind the notion of talking more. I am not a particular fan of magical healing myself, so any practical knowledge is a welcome thing.

[portalling]

There’s a thought. If the townspeople had been able to see what I was talking about, with a compound microscope, then they’d probably have been more readily convinced. [ He considers. ] I’m not a glassmaker so I’m not sure on the process. But I know a couple people who might have some ideas, and it’s really just a stronger, inverted spyglass, so I presume we might be able to build one… and yeast — you know, for baking bread? — is alive, too, and should be easier to see under magnification. Enough to prove the theory, at least.

[ His gaze is caught by the flutter of movement, and those missing fingers. But familiar with his own self-consciousness about his own hands, Strange knows enough to not just bluntly ask a total stranger, What happened there? even if there’s that nagging little seed of curiosity, now planted in the back of his skull.

How does Riftwatch’s foremost surgeon work with missing fingers?

(How does New York’s foremost work with broken ones?)

Instead, he skirts the question. Half-smiles at her last sentence: ]

It does feel a bit like a cheat, doesn’t it? We study for all these years and then someone just does the equivalent of waving a magic wand. Admittedly, I’m a mage, but I was a surgeon long before. I still consider myself a doctor first. Old habits die hard.

[indissection]

They are more likely to trust something they can see with their own eyes, especially if linked to some measure of logic. I cannot promise they will want to believe you, given the nature of the common folk and their mistrust of magic, but it may be a better attempt. I do not know what many people think of Rifters nor their knowledge of other worlds, but I cannot imagine it is an entirely positive one.

[ It is easier to focus on some science, some real knowledge, then it is to dwell on what she can and cannot, and she leans back as she considers, thoughtful.

Rifter knowledge may be as fantastical to some as Thedas' own magic, and that lends itself to its own conversation. And yet... ]

It feels somewhat akin to that, yes. I have spent many years learning the body and studying to be as proficient as I am and yet I still feel as though mages are able to do more with a single moment than I could in a lifetime.

[portalling]

No, not entirely positive. [ He sounds dry and almost bemused. Riftwatch had been a way of easing into it, since they were accustomed to people like him. Whereas the superstitious countryside — ready to heft torches over the very idea of wayward mages — was quite another experience. Still, though… ]

That said. Magic can’t do everything. Presumably a broken bone still needs to be re-set in order to heal straight. Science and magic are simply two sides of the same coin, two different ways at getting to the same truth beneath all things.

[ Contemplatively, then, and a little light: ] Also, I went into extreme amounts of student debt for my medical degree, so I like to think it still served a purpose.

[indissection]

Magic is something that people here can barely wrap their mind around, even those who have that gift. [ And the way she says 'gift' makes it very clear just how she feels about that particular present might be. Sidony remains without fondness for magic, no matter how it might have been used around her in the past. It's a sore spot.

Shifting her weight a little, she nods. ] Magic is like... The rush of feeling in your body after a fight. The rush. I am not sure of the technical term that you Rifters might use. [ Adrenaline. ] But it does not fix everything. It does not completely overwrite what the body does naturally.

[ Her lips twitch a little. ]

I tracked across the country and was disinherited for my studies.

[portalling]

[ Gift, Sidony says, like it’s a curse word, and Strange makes a mental note of that scalpel-sharp twist to her mouth as she enunciates that word. He’s spent a few years now to get accustomed to juggling those contradictions in his own life: his belief and love of magic existing elbow-to-elbow with his cold, rational side. Finding some way to juxtapose the two and have it make sense.

And his cool blue eyes track over her, sizing her up, trying to guess at the reasons behind it. He can imagine a few different ones, but… ]

So you must have really wanted it, [ Strange says, with the sound of like recognising like. He’s familiar with obsession and drive. He’d subsisted on it for most of his life. ] At the risk of getting too personal, why the disinheritance? Is studying medicine unpopular here?

[ Trying to map Thedas to Earth’s past has never really worked; it’s not a clean one-to-one comparison to medieval times, so he’s trying not to assume. ]

[indissection]

[ It is a disappointment that she has learned to get over, that is true enough, but she cannot escape the still present sourness of it. She doesn't want to dwell, doesn't want to think too hard about what she is missing, but it is hard not to. It stings all the more with the loss of her fingers, the knowledge that she could still heal without additional support and practice if she had magic.

Her eyes snap back to him, a little glaring, before she adjusts her weight and settles a little. ]

I did. But I am growing well accustomed to my lot. [ Some of the tension bleeds eventually, but she is still sharply on edge. ] It was not only the study of medicine. It was the refusal to return home and wed the person they had chosen for me. I was rather unpopular for that decision.

[ She huffs a little laugh, waving her hand. ]

I chose Byerly, and they were most disapproving.