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

hell yea

[charmoffensive]

Loxley likes gold. And Rivain. And her hands on him. These are the sorts of thoughts that skim the surface of his mind, pleasantly drunk without being too far gone.

"Yes please," he says, transferring the lapful of trinkets to the bed between them with a soft jingle of chains and rings. "They're beautiful."

He will watch her pick through them, move where needed. He picks up the band that's designed to go around his arm as if puzzling over its intention, but rather than ask right away, he says, "Do you think I could get away with wearing them whenever I like, or just for special occasions?"

[tender]

Derrica puts herself into his lap, straddling over his thighs so she might have better access to his ears and horns. Touches his cheek lightly before turning her attention down to the spread of trinkets on the bed.

"Whenever you like," is followed by, "I picked a good jeweler. These are sturdy enough to last."

He should be draped in fine ornament every day, she thinks. This is Rivaini custom, yes, but it is also what she feels is due to him. Loxley is handsome, but he is brave and kind, all good things. He deserves lovely pieces of jewelry. He deserves some elevation of status.

[charmoffensive]

His hands find her waist, an innocent place to rest as he leans back a little to accommodate the comfortably warm weight of her, giving her space to work.

"Then I shall wear them every day," Loxley says. Facetious without lacking sincerity, somehow. "Unless I'm attempting to be sneaky, then they would be counterproductive. To that."

A gentle squeeze of his hands follows, smoothing his palms lower to her hips, his gaze breaking from hers as she focuses on her task. He can instead lazily appreciate how she, too, looks in the low warmth of her room.

[tender]

"I would like that," she tells him. "I like all of these pieces on you."

Even the ones that hadn't come from her, that he must have been given by others.

She puts her fingers into his hair, thumbs at his temples. Just for the pleasure of touching him, scraping her nails lightly along his scalp, before stretching upwards to affix the jewelry to his horns, slip the cuff onto his ear. Smile a little over the entire process

"Even if you'll have to take them off soon to go to bed."

Though it invites repetition of the process in the morning.

[charmoffensive]

"I'll simply stay up a little longer," has zero subtlety to it, but languidly delivered. There is a lovely sort of meditative quality to staying still while Derrica brushes her fingers through his hair, adorns him in these fine bits and pieces, tipping his head a little bit here and there as his means of assistance.

His hand smooths up the side of her thigh, finding a resting place there, thumb stroking circles and fingertips barely indenting fabric and skin.

With his other hand, Loxley lifts the remaining circular piece for the offering.

[tender]

"You are so lovely this way," Derrica tells him, indulgent, as her fingers stray back through his hair once more. Her palm cups his cheek, thumb briefly at the corner of his mouth. He's so pleasantly biddable, and the jewelry looks well on him, fits where placed without any effort at all.

Her thumb runs softly along his lower lip before she shifts, taking up the last piece before catching him by the wrist.

"Here, it'll go—"

Coaxing the circlet down, both hands sliding it over knuckles and wrist, over the bend of his elbow, until it settles into place around his bicep. She fusses lightly one-handed with his tunic sleeve, smiles.

"You can save it for the summer."