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

[wintershepherd]

[ Have someone sidling up next to you, grinning at your dress. He's found a suit of his own but, he freely admits she looks far for classy. ]

Not surprised you snagged the best seat in the house for people watching.

[myownhand]

[Oh. She recognizes that voice. Jack, you are officially on her "BE VERY AWARE WHEN THIS CHARLATAN IS NEAR" list. She's just about to retort when she gives him a good look up and down--]

You're shorter than I thought you'd be.

[wintershepherd]

[ He grinned, flicking a curl of her hair. Even though they hadn't talked for very long, he already liked her attitude. ]

And you look lovely tonight too.

1/2 YOU ARE GOING TO GET THIS A LOT IF YOU KEEP IT UP JACK

[myownhand]

[.....O... kay She's not sure how to respond to flattery. Or hair flicking. Or close physical contact.]

2/3 i lied

[myownhand]

Thank y'Jack. You look--

DONE.

[myownhand]

[Errr] --less like an old man than I'd picture y't'be.

[All the stories her mother had told her of the Norse gods had made them out to be a bit more on the monstrous side. Probably because they were the legend of the vikings.

However he had already stated that he was different. A continuation in the line, rather than the original.]

So, there were other winter spirits before you? Are you spirits like a family too, then?

[wintershepherd]

Well, that's a relief! Here I was worried I'd go grey in my old age.

[ He flops down on a cushion near her (though not too near) so he can watch the other revelers too. He answers her question though there's a faint tightness in his expression when he does so. ]

Mhm, at least one other one. Not really like family though.

[myownhand]

[She frowns and watches him-- she can see that small flicker of emotion on his face, but doesn't comment on it.]

So, how'd y'become a spirit then, if y'weren't always th'one runnin' things. Was there anythin' before that?

[wintershepherd]

[ This conversation was rapidly straying into territory that he was uncomfortable with and only a few of his closest friends on Tu Vishan knew, so he deftly snagged two glasses of sparkling cider from a passing ghostly server and offered one to her. ]

Do you always ask all the big questions on the first date?

You will sit right here until this is done. 8|

[myownhand]

Big questions I was just--

[myownhand]

[Wait.]

[myownhand]

[WAIT.]

[myownhand]

[WAIT.


JUST.


ONE.

SECOND.

THERE.


MISTER.]

[myownhand]

[DID YOU JUST--]

[myownhand]

[YOU DID--!!!!!!!!]

DONE. and yes. Keywords. Esp on this icon.

[myownhand]

[FINALLY-- A little louder than she intended--]

Who said this was a date!?

[wintershepherd]

[ He's still holding the glass of faux!bubbly out to her. That worked even better for a distraction than he had anticipated. ]

Uhhh... is this a question where there's no right answer?

[myownhand]

Th'correct answer is [Prepare for an awful immitation of your accent jack] -- "No, Merida. We are not on a date. Because I am not interested in you, like that. And, in fact, I prefer that we stay friends".

[This is said with a firm degree of finality-- No. She's not touchy about dates. or suitors. or marriage. or afraid she's going to somehow be wrangled in one even when she is in a reality quite separate from any her mother is in.]

[wintershepherd]

Whoa slow down there, Curls. We don't know each other well enough to be giving dating advice one way or another.

Also, what did you just try to do with my voice, that was terrible.

[myownhand]

That's th'point. I'm not datin' anyone.

[HUFF PUFF PUFF. She's got THINGS TO SAY about being dragged into dates and romances with out prior permission! Lots of things.


Possibly arrows to be shot for her own hand. Mothers to turn into bears....]

And it's not terrible, it's what y'sound like!

[wintershepherd]

Okay well... that makes two of us.

[ He's pretty amused at her reaction but he'll keep it in mind... it's only funny if it doesn't genuinely upset her. ]

I didn't mean anything by it. Just some things, you don't want to talk about with strangers. Sorry.

1/2

[myownhand]

[Alright... that reaction will give her pause... She'll take a deep breath and try to regain her composure.]

I can understand that. [She smooths her hands over her dress and then her fingers land on the belt at her hip. She presses her lips together looking at the insignia of three bears. Her mother's insignia.] I didn't mean t'make y'talk about anythin' y'didn't want to. I've just--[there's a sigh, this is more than she's told anyone, but it's a "safe" subject] I've had a run in with a spirit, not like you, but a spirit noneth'less.

He was trapped as a demon bear, apparently he used t'be a prince.

[Mor'du and his story had taken up more of her thoughts as of late. She was happy that she was able to help him, but she couldn't imagine being stuck in that sort of state.]

I was just curious is all.

[myownhand]

[She'll glance over at him through all that hair-- And then promptly whack him on the arm (PLAYFULLY!)]

Och, but date, really? Y'can't just say that t'girls y'just met. They'll get th'wrong idea! Think you're interested when y'really aren't.

[wintershepherd]

Nah... I think that's the last problem I'd have.

[ Clutching his arm!! like a real ham. But he's grinning. ]

Sounds like you've got some real stories to tell. I wouldn't mind hearing them, as long as you're not going to beat me up between each chapter.

[myownhand]

[And now she's just going to grin. Puffing up a bit with pride]

I may have a few, and most of 'em don't come with hittin'.