Event | Sinbrilee | Bacchanal

[ironwood]

Characters: Any and all!
Date: August 24 - 30th
Location: Sinbrilee
Situation: An ancient festival of an ancient city, all are welcome at the Bacchanal!
Warnings/Rating: Please label threads as appropriate.

Death and destruction cannot curtail the single most important festival celebrated by the denizens of Sinbrilee: The Bacchanal! The ghosts in and about the city have begun to gossip about high fashion and festivities, sending any that inquire to the Amphitheatre -- a grand, circular structure nestled in the west side of the city.

This structure bore the fall of Sinbrilee and the wear of time with dignity, having lost handfuls of archways and one long stretch of wall to crumbling decay. Despite this, it is obvious that the amphitheatre once hosted many a display and every more festivities than the mind can grasp. This was their solace and safety; here is where the people of Sinbrilee came to find the mind's escape from all that threatened them and their great turtle.

Ghosts have been busy throughout the week, clearing paths through debris and hanging great cloth banners of soft blues and greens to disguise the more blatant signs of its decline. Many hundreds of them shimmer and slid through the area, providing for tables upon tables of food, offering drink, and overseeing competition of sport and skill (some even denying death's non-corporeal curse to enter).

Here, well... Here is where the party begins!

Food & Drink | Music, Discussions, & Dancing | Wrestling & Competitions

Comments

[parallels]

[Good luck meeting Clara's eyes when they're buried in a book, Jim! Okay, there not so much anymore. Two glasses of wine in make it very difficult to focus on Chaucer as they text all starts to get a bit blurry and now she's mostly just watching people move about the dance floor. She's not much for dancing really. She doesn't care for everyone watching and she's only danced with her father and the Doctor. And the Doctor was only because he said they'd be beheaded if they broke ancient customs.

Kyle already got her up there once, but now she can't seem to find where he and Dick have wandered off to...]

[jirk]

[Which grants Jim the perfect opportunity to slide up behind her and plurk the book out from under her arm.]

Chaucer, huh? Please tell me you did not bring a book to a party, Clara.

[parallels]

[she emits a rather adorable little squeak and twists around to give him a good glare and an attempt to grab her book back.].

Congrats, you the last in a long line to have a go at me about that.

[jirk]

I hate being last.

[NO REALLY IT'S ACTUALLY A POINT OF PRIDE HE ABJECTLY DESPISES IT!! But it's Clara, and so it doesn't actually upset him in any way, he just makes a show of it having done so because he's kind of a drama queen.

And then he grins, tucks the book under one arm and holds out his hand.]

Come on, let's dance. Way more exciting than Chaucer, of all people.

[parallels]

I keep telling everyone that I don't dance but no one seems to listen. Not even me.

[she takes his hand and using his weight to pull herself off the couch. Once up and steady on her feet, she gives him a small smile.]

Chaucer isn't so bad, you hush.

[jirk]

You couldn't just let me think I'm the exception to your rule? I'm crushed.

[He tugs her towards the dance floor with all due enthusiasm.]

I think you need to have a few words with Bones about the statistical likelihood of me, in any circumstances, actually hushing.

[parallels]

You're always my exception to everything, I'm starting to learn. But you're the only one who can insult my taste and still get me to dance with you, it's a little unfair.

[She follows behind him, nearly stumbling a few times due to the height of her heels and wine rushing through her blood stream.]

Besides, didn't we agree I'm everyone's exception? I'm sure I can make you hush.

[Of course he said that about a different topic and she enjoys hearing him flirt and be playful, but still, she has to put out an argument here.]

[jirk]

[No shoes on the dance floor, Clara, gosh. Jim stops at the edge of the rug and completely without preamble turns and crouches so he can help her out of her shoes. Coordination is hard when you've had a few drinks, okay? He gets it.

Then again he's drank like half the bar at this point and is more or less completely sober. But that's due to so many years of hard living that the Fleet academy doctors basically had to wring out his liver.]

Don't count on it, sweetheart.

[He is so cheeky and teasing, okay. And then he tugs her out onto the rug.]

[parallels]

[Oh that's right, this isn't your typical party. She blinks a little when Jim drops down to help her out of her shoes and grips his shoulder for support (support and Jim Kirk seem to go together she's learning) as she steps out of them. Which is much better. Despite her height, high heels have never been her thing as fun as they are for the first fifteen minutes.

Then she gives him a soft smile.]

You want an exception? Getting to call me sweetheart and not having me pop one.

[jirk]

[He smiles at her, the expression just a little bit of a disconnect from his usual tomfoolery, and he shifts his grip so he can rub his thumb across her knuckles gently.]

I'll take it.

[parallels]

[she smiles back at him and leans closer, as if to affectionately bump her forehead against his as his position evens out their heights but then decides against it. Instead, she grips his hand tighter.]

So are we going to dance then?

[jirk]

We are definitely going to dance.

[But she's had too much to drink to be truly coordinated, so he settles for an easy sway, just moving to the music without really changing where they're standing.]

Having a good time, at least? I mean, you're here, right? That's something.

[parallels]

You make it sound like I never go out or have fun.

[She sulks slightly and follows along with his movements. For all her hesitancy and supposed dislike of dancing, she picks up the beat quickly and with surprisingly graceful movements.]

[jirk]

Oh come on, I know better. Fun doesn't mean the same thing to everybody, and that's, you know. It's fine.

[If there's someone out there who'd be surprised about Clara's dancing, their name isn't Jim Kirk.]

[parallels]

I like this dancing more than a club anyway. No uncomfortable shoes and not painfully loud. Better company. Better wine.

[See? She's been to a club, she goes out. And see? You get a compliment, Jim.]

[jirk]

I will definitely grant you the better company bit.

[He knows a compliment when he hears one, and they mean more coming from Clara than from most people. He sways in time to the music, content to simply hold her.]

How much did you have to drink, exactly?

[parallels]

Modest as ever.

[She looks up at him, eyebrows raised, come on Jim you can't be concerned on a party night!]

Only two glasses of wine. But it's been a bit, I think it's hitting me harder than it used to in Uni.

[jirk]

Modesty's for people who don't know their own worth.

[And ego's for people who don't believe it. Jim strives for the middle ground. Falls short sometimes (especially lately, all he's done is doubt himself) but he tries.]

Promise me you'll get some water after this, okay?

[parallels]

[She laughs, pulling her hand up to cover her mouth until her fit passes.]

I like it. I'm going to steal that that one.

[Then she sighs softly and nods, in the fashion that a petulant teenager might nod.]

You're stealing my job. I'm supposed to fuss over everyone.

[jirk]

I'm a captain.

[His tone is so matter of fact.]

I fuss. It's not like you've got the monopoly on it, Miss Oswald.

[parallels]

I'm an admiral.

[She replies with a matter-of-fact tone.]

And I'm going to fuss over you some day. See how you like it.

[jirk]

I'm pretty sure you've been fussing over me since the day we met.

[It's in her nature. And he doesn't mind it so much from her, anyway.]

[parallels]

Well. Fair is fair in fussing then. Equal opportunity.

[POUTS A LITTLE]

[jirk]

Hey, I have no objections.

[Okay, he does, and a few misgivings besides, but he could sooner grow wings and fly than say no to Clara. So. There's that.]

Equal opportunity fussing. My word as a Kirk.

[parallels]

Hopefully, that means both of us will at least end up some what functional and not too injured or ill or exhausted.

[She likes to be overly confident in her ability to take care of herself, but it often comes at the expense of taking care of others.]