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

[charmoffensive]

This last part has Loxley raising his glass in thanks, a flicker of a smile, but sort of hovers it in place as he considers the question. Then, a shake of his head.

"I'm certain of nothing. They were purporting to be ancient elven gods, and maybe they even were."

An eye, vanishing as if it had been cut out of his head years ago. A language, a skillset. The potentiality of memories, in one case, and an even finer surgery in removing the basis of a friendship, in another.

"Or this plane actually does have the Fey, and no one knew about it 'til now."

[nonvenomous]

A little Satinalia flattery, as a treat.

Richard drinks.

The pieces Thedas has taken from him were burned and carved and clawed out, leaving nicks and scars and harder frown lines than the ones he arrived with. Grey hazing in at the temples.

Thot is still nowhere to be seen.

“I should read this report.”

[charmoffensive]

"A thrilling read, no doubt."

—has an air of definite sarcasm.

"But I understand the information gathered was worth it." Another swoopy gesture of his glass, as if to suggest that Mr. Dickerson can soon be the judge of that. "I'm mostly just thrilled to be alive, still."

[nonvenomous]

"Likewise."

Has Richard Dickerson ever been thrilled about anything? He doesn’t look or sound it, level over another long draw off the cup. No amount of mulled wine --

"Did you have holiday business you wished to discuss or was it your sole motivation to take years off of my life?"