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

[luaithre]

[ Marcus doesn't laugh openly very often; that he does so now when so accused is still somewhat muted, a gravelly chuckle only just heard over the sounds of blades and ice and ambient noises.

But then Matthias is skating like a man possessed to catch up, and Marcus does not intend for him to win too easily. Half-bowed, then, pushing along with long strides that feel as though he is slipping at every turn, weaving reckless around all of those going slower than them both without sign of apology.

Another turn, nearer than the last where the rink narrows, and he catches a curse between his teeth in the effort to make it and not, say, go tumbling. ]

[inkindled]

[He's got to scramble to keep up with the absolute precision with which Marcus skates, the deft-yet-dangerous slicing of his path. Matthias tries to imitate it as he follows. He's completely lacking in finesse, cuts too close to a skater or two--nearly falls on his face--

But then comes a brief open stretch, with Marcus still ahead of him, and Matthias takes off, blades working at the ice. He shifts his path to the left, the inside track, and as the turn comes he manages to just pull ahead of Marcus--just barely--and sticks his arm out to block him. His turn to cheat.]

[luaithre]

[ Already managing a hard turn, metal skates scraping up a clean layer of ice and sending it flying in the form of powdery spray, and then an arm in his way. Marcus grunts, his own arm coming up defensively but stopping just shy of actively shoving someone half his age—

A swerve, as Matthias pulls ahead, less precise-deadly control all of a sudden as Marcus' skates fly out from beneath him, stumbling with a knee catching the ice, a swipe after where Matthias had been a second ago that only strikes air.

Once on more secure footing, the next exhale from him sounds more like a growl, and then the determined sound of pursuit. ]