faderift | SATINALIA

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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

"Oh," Clarisse says. "I see. We'll 'work up' to shooting arrows at my face."

But she's just fucking with her. Please, shoot arrows at her. She'll think it's fun, even if she gets hit.

"I was thinking I'll just shoot somewhere less vital," she says with a mock-scowl, and reaches out to poke her in the upper arm.

"Like here."

And her thigh.

"Or here."

"Quit that."

She grabs Ellie's hand before she can poke her anywhere else, and holds onto it. Ellie's fingers are cold in hers, and for a totally absurd couple seconds Clarisse is tempted to tuck Ellie's hand in between both of hers, warm it up a bit. Instead, she shakes her head like in doing so she can fling the thought out of her brain, and releases Ellie's hand.

"Sounds good, though. It's a date." A shooting date.

Ellie immediately misses the warmth when she lets go, but tries to banish the way it's migrated to her face.

Instead it's time to be aggressively normal about this.

Or a just choke a little on her drink instead. There's that.

Clarisse grins and gives her a little thump on the back. No choking on holidays.

"Just messing with you. But we should really do it. It'll be fun."

"I was gonna say," Ellie says through a couple more coughs, "That's more like a third date kind of thing."

Though she does manage a smile, just so she knows she's haha definitely joking.

"But yeah, I wanna. You gonna use Maimer?"

Sounds like an any date kind of thing to Clarisse, if she's being honest, but she just snorts.

"Maybe. Sword might be better, I dunno." Heavier, but it'd give her a little more area to work with. Also, sue her, maybe she's a little freaked by the idea of breaking a third Maimer in some frivolous pissing contest with Ellie. It's not like she can ask her dad for another replacement.

"More to use to deflect," Ellie says with a nod, like she knows fuck-all about fighting with a sword. Abby would be the person to talk to about that, but she shuts down that suggestion. She's not there yet.

Ellie will use the wooden-point arrows too, the ones that are little more than sharpened sticks, designed to be pulled out of the target without tearing it up.

"I'm heading out tomorrow for an assignment but I should be back the day after."

"Yeah?"

Clarisse doesn't ask where she's going, or what she's going to be doing there, not because she doesn't care but because she's not sure if she's supposed to know.

"Okay. Day after tomorrow, then."

"It's just some courier stuff," Ellie reassures her. "Nothing too crazy."

Sometimes it's a little crazy, but even if she doesn't believe in tempting fate, it seems like a bad idea to mess around.

Ellie settles, rubbing at the back of her neck, letting her eyes fall shut as she works out the kinks.

"When are you usually using the practice field?" so she can hopefully gauge when Abby isn't there, but. She's deciding right now that that won't actually stop her.

"Right," Clarisse says. She knows it's important work and all, but courier stuff seems like it's gotta be so boring. Then again, she spends her own time mostly talking to animals who just stare at her, so whose day job is worse?

"I train in the morning after breakfast." But it seems the same thought's occurred to her, about Abby, and she adds, "And some days after I'm done work, too." There isn't any time she can guarantee being by herself, but that at least improves the odds somewhat.

It's thoughtful of her, and it takes Ellie aback. Like shit, how weird are she and Abby being about this? Or is Clarisse just that perceptive?

Both options are... a lot.

"I'll be around later in the day," she settles on. "Try not to get too tired before I show up."

A little of column A and a little of column B, perhaps. Clarisse can be more perceptive than she lets on, but it's also hard not to miss the way Abby and Ellie tense up whenever the other one's mentioned out loud. Which she has learned, and quickly, to stop doing. Which is why she doesn't acknowledge the reason they're planning on doing this later in the day, when the lighting's less good and she's more likely to fuck up blocking a sharp projectile being shot at her body.

Whatever, it's fine.

"I don't get tired," she says. Not true. Especially not true here, in Thedas. But still not something she's worried about.

"Whatever, god-girl," Ellie scoffs, but it only barely covers the laugh.

"Us mortals will just have to struggle to keep up with you."

Is she particularly worried about putting an arrow in Clarisse? ... maybe a little. But she can handle it.

"Uh, okay. Pretty salty, coming from I-can-hit-anything-anytime-with-anything." Clarisse rolls her eyes, but fondly. "It's not just god shit. I work hard for this muscle."

She gives her bicep a little flex, holding her arm up obnoxiously right in Ellie's personal space. She does work really hard. (It's just... also god shit.)

Hot and obnoxious. Ellie wrinkles her nose and pushes at her arm.

"We'll see if it comes in handy when I'm shooting at you."

Not that Ellie's aim would come in handy if Clarisse grappled her, but they're not talking about logic here.

"It won't," she admits. "But I was promised stitches, and then I'll pulverize you the next time we spar."

Clarisse gives her another big, annoying grin.

"You just wanna see me all bruised up again," Ellie teases, completely unbothered.

Honestly, Clarisse is going to cream her. It's just a matter of how badly she's gonna give it back.

“Maybe.” Clarisse raises her eyebrows and rests her chin in one palm, looking over at Ellie.

“You know I think it’s hot.”

Clarisse casually owns it, and really, it's not fair how that has Ellie's fingertips fumbling to keep their hold on their mug. She likes her easy confidence. The way she knows what she wants, and says so.

"I have questions," she says, in a way that's supposed to be playful. At least it's steady. "But I think we're technically at work."

"I have answers," Clarisse says—does she, though?—and gets to her feet with a little stretch. She wants more wine.

"Want another drink?" She extends a hand for Ellie's mug.

Ellie clutches her mug with both hands as Clarisse stands up, makes herself draw in a deeper breath. It's good that she doesn't seem to expect a response right away.

"Sure," she says, hiding it up. "Thanks. Whatever you're getting. I'll save our spots."

Not that there's a lack of them, really. But it's the principle of the thing.

Clarisse disappears for a couple minutes, but returns shortly with both of their mugs refilled with wine, and flops down into the seat next to Ellie again.

She’s content to sit quietly for a minute, but then she asks, “Are you having fun?”

Ellie takes a slow drink of the wine, kinda letting it settle on her tongue, considering.

She's not so great at subtlety, but: "You wanna get out of here?"

Clarisse does a decent job of not looking totally surprised. She doesn’t even choke on her wine or anything! She does have to clear her throat before she answers, but… the bonfire… smoke…

“Sure. Where do you wanna go?”

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