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

[bacondivination]

We'll need to get you out more.

[ He grins at her mischievously, his eyes very bright but his voice almost casual. It's nothing particularly special to him. A celebration of the dead was just another event in a long string of strange experiences.

Idly, he kicks his legs. ]

I'm sure this can hardly be the best on offer when stuck in limbo.

[jondrette]

I used to get out plenty. My family owned an inn. [Eponine, you were seven. That doesn't count.]

Hush! It is the best to me, and it will remain so until something better comes along to take it's place, Loki.

[bacondivination]

[ That gets him to arch a brow in response. ]

Hush yourself, I'm saying we'll have to find that 'better' instead of letting it come along. But, if you like this, it can't be helped.

[jondrette]

Do not tell me to hush! [He gets an indignant glare for that one.]

Then we shall find something better, you and I.

[bacondivination]

[ The grin he gives her as she glares is completely shameless, an expression he's clearly accustomed to wearing. He pushes back a stray lock of his hair, more to keep his hands busy than anything else. ]

You started the hushing, you know. I hushed you in self-defense and nothing more. I was the victim.

[jondrette]

And you are a child who thinks he's a god! I'm the victim of a cruel and callous god, so the fault is more yours, Loki. [Eponine Logic was the best logic.]

[bacondivination]

But I'm just an adorable, winsome little god. You have to see that quite clearly, so don't say you can't.

[jondrette]

You are lucky you remind me of my brother, Loki.

[bacondivination]

So you have a charming, handsome brother?

[jondrette]

Oui. They tell me he is here, but I have not yet seen him.

[bacondivination]

If he's anything like me, he must be finding trouble to cause for other people. When he surfaces, maybe you should put him on a leash.

[jondrette]

I do not doubt that he is.

No, he does not deserve a leash. He is wild and he is free, I shall never do anything to lose him that.

[bacondivination]

Good, it's a terrible idea anyway. Fetters only teach someone how better to run away the next time.

[ He might be the voice of experience here. ]

[jondrette]

Loki, petite, you do not need to tell me this.

[bacondivination]

It never hurts to say things everyone should already know. It gives the ideas power.

[jondrette]

Perhaps... That is certainly an interesting way to put it. It does not sound wrong.

[bacondivination]

Mhmm, the dialogue used in a narrative makes it what it is.

[ It was more important for a god to mind. Mortals lived far too briefly to understand those implications. ]

And some of us aren't more than our stories.

[jondrette]

[She frowns for a moment.] Your stories? You'll have to elaborate, Loki.

[bacondivination]

You wouldn't get it. You clearly make up your own tale as you go.

[jondrette]

Don't say that! Perhaps if someone were to explain it, I would understand. I'm smarter than one would expect, and I won't have anyone forget it.

My tale is over.

[bacondivination]

It's hardly begun. Don't write yourself off so easily.

[jondrette]

My tale here, perhaps.

In Paris, I have nothing. I am dead there.

[bacondivination]

But you like it better here, don't you?

[jondrette]

...I do. I have friends here, Marius so close by again, no Cosette. I have money and clothing. But I cannot ignore all that I have had. Or have not.

[bacondivination]

It hardly has to guide your future. Pick whatever role you want. There is no one that can stop you, and that's awesome.