faderift | SATINALIA

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

( in addition to various unkin remarks about artistic elitism and what a godawful misnomer it is there may be, percolating, an extremely clever and funny joke about the necessity of walking flint safely back to his tower now he's the student in swordsmanship—

so how ill-advised can the impulse towards that abandoned rink really be, if it supersedes what otherwise might have come out of her mouth? the cold air bites, but buttoned now into the same fur-trimmed coat he met her in at the edge of the water years ago gwenaëlle is warm enough and awake enough yet to be more than prepared to risk a tumble. she's had worse hits to her dignity, after all. she nudges him in his ribs, casually, carelessly familiar, )

Were you any good on that, before you packed it in for the evening?

( her purpose is unmistakable. )

[The point of his attention is slow to round in the right direction, casual elbow to the ribs or otherwise. When it does—

Flint's chuckle has that low, 'a ha ha' quality that translates from old man into 'Absolutely not.']

I didn't get past the drinking and dancing.

( the expression on her face is one that is not at all unfamiliar to flint, at this point: gwenaëlle, undeterred. )

It's very like dancing, ( she suggests, the beginnings of what might sound like a coaxing tone and a thoughtful glance toward him that isn't not doing the math on if she thinks she can trip him into it. )

That would explain Kostos Averesch's split lip.

[In what he will later consider to have been a serious tactical error, Flint allows the already meandering pace they're cutting across the courtyard toward the pool of light from the torches posted about the central tower's entrance to slow. Instead, he bets the bulk of his defense on being rational: throughout the evening, there'd been a pile of skates for lashing on to the bottoms of boots loitering off the edge of the ice. Apparently, someone with a little sense had thought to clear those away before abandoning the yard.]

It doesn't look like anyone's left you skates.

( rational defense is, to be sure, a second tactical error. he has presented her with an argument, and it's now for gwenaëlle to demonstrate that there is absolutely no argument she can't find a way to decide that she's won— )

Averesch's personality explains Averesch's split lip,

( alright, but she can also be momentarily sidetracked by the importance of pedantically stating facts. which is, for the record, definitely what that remark just was.

even still, )

And to be fair I'm sure that same thing has been said of me, but I harbour a deep suspicion that you sort of like my personality— ( cheerfully, ) —and I notice that we are both still wearing our boots.

( the thing about elbowing someone in the ribs is that you have to be quite close to them to do it. for instance, it might be convenient if you were already more or less holding onto their arm, say, for companionship while walking in chilly air. and that might be convenient, in re-angling their meander— )

[Convenient, yes. Devoid of all traces of complaint? Certainly not. Flint isn't immune to the dramatics of a long suffering sigh even as Gwenaëlle successfully hedges him round. The welcoming lit doorway of the central tower's ground floor entrance slips morosely out from his peripherals in favor of that murderous slab of ice gleaming darkly in the shrouded moonlight.]

I unfortunately didn't have enough to drink to go scampering across the courtyard without.

[Honest mistake, staying mostly sober enough to keep his shoes on. Something to consider for next year.]

( narrowly avoiding a stumble on the ice that might end this before it begins — no such luck, flint — gwenaëlle draws him along with her, determinedly, treating him like nothing so much as a large dog that's decided it doesn't want to go for a walk tonight after all.

the walk is happening. it is not optional. rational arguments will not sway a cheerfully irrational decision. )

No one's around to see you enjoy yourself, ( is, nevertheless, still a bit coaxing. ) They'll all still be deathly intimidated of you tomorrow.

Did you miss the part where I partook in the dancing?

[Point of order: people have, in fact, already witnessed him enjoying himself. What they haven't seen him doing is him sliding like a clown over a sheet of ice and breaking his fool face open.

But here they are anyway, picking their way out onto the crackling ice. It pops under their weight, fissures pinging through the shiny black surface in every direction—not enough crunching to provide traction for his boot soles, of course. Just enough to suggest that the skating rink isn't likely to survive the night.]

Is there a reason you chose to stay shut up tonight? Beyond the the fact that we're collectively terrible company.

[Petty revenge for being drug out onto a sheet of ice, but surely she expected him to get underhanded.]

Edited 2023-01-22 08:30 (UTC)

( she did, in fact, miss the part where he partook in the dancing — evinced by the way she laughs, surprised, at the sort of claim that surely wouldn't be made unless it were true. too easy to disprove, and what's the benefit of saying so just to prove a point? no, it's delightful, to think of him partaking in the dancing.

and his question doesn't dim her good humour, any, so it may not be terribly satisfying as revenge (even the petty kind) goes, )

I don't need a reason not to attend things I don't enjoy, ( is frank, and probably the same — true — answer that she'd have given anyone who asked.

though some of them, she might've said it meaner. )

I'd need a good one to turn up, which was not provided, so I spared myself the unpleasantness. Why'd you go?

I'm between books.

[Is obviously a lie for comedic effect, and punished instantly by one of his boots losing traction on the ice. The hook of his arm flexes briefly tighter and his free hand floats out in the direction of acting as a counter balance.

Andraste's tits.]

Summer's ended. It's a good idea to occasionally remind people who you may send slogging around in cold and muddy winter fields that you're not entirely reprehensible.

( oh, well, if that's the case: as a person who flint is probably going to send slogging around wintry fields, making him ice-skate with her is a much more personally entertaining pound of flesh. )

That accounts, ( she allows, considering it. ) As someone who gets sent places, I was under no such obligation.

( and might be completely reprehensible. people keep telling her she's a good person, lately, it's deeply discomfiting. )

Though it is one of, I think, the only compelling reasons to attend any party. Because you have to, ( obligation, threat, some form of necessity, ) or for sex.

( obligation and sex sometimes overlap, albeit not in gwenaëlle's case for quite some time. )

[He snorts. The sound carries very briefly, larking out over the imperfect mirror of ice.]

I'm not certain that's specific only to parties.

[One could argue those are the factors motivating a whole list of social diversions.]

Oh, ouais, I avoid a host of bullshit gatherings for the same reasons,

( is sardonic, which is not the same as being untrue. just like this only wears the clothes of a joke: ) I'd have missed my own wedding if they'd let me, and that was when I wished to be married.

( or to be committed, at least. semantics. marriage and sentiment are poor bedfellows for a girl raised in the orlesian court. )

SATINALIA

i'm late but ily

<3

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject