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

[relatable]

[She's been mostly avoiding the dance floor. And eye contact. But Abigail isn't the best with navigating when there are this many people, so eventually she ends up off to the side. Looking up, she catches his eye. Of course Abigail has been to a dance, but given how her father was there was no dating. And after graduating high school and the way her life wound up, she didn't have much of a chance to react to these type of situations.

So he gets the most awkward smile ever.]

[jirk]

[Awkward smiles on pretty girls mean exactly one thing to Jim: people who haven't had enough good times in their lives. So as soon as he spots her in the crowd he heads that way, his intent quite plain in the determination of his gait.

He stops in front of her, and holds out a hand in the manner of gallant gentlemen everywhere.]

Hey. You're new, right? My name's Jim Kirk. Care to dance?

[relatable]

[Her hand takes it's time getting to his, mostly because this is a grandiose gesture and what does she even do with that. Luckily her smile eases somewhat, not quite a laugh, but she'll try and roll with it.]

Abigail Hobbs. [Her eyes look back at the floor as if it's the dentist or something equally unpleasant.]

I haven't danced in awhile.

[jirk]

You've never danced with me.

[His grin is bright, and despite the obvious ego to his words, tone and body language, his grip is light and gentle on her hand. Jim always has been good at reading people, and adapting as necessary.]

Just let me lead, I'll look out for you.

[relatable]

[She blinks. Abigail catches the ego, and with a quick look around to see if she can some how escape this, she finally figures there's no hurt in it. He probably wouldn't take no, and really she's trying to play at not being so uncomfortable around people.]

I won't fall. I'm not that bad. [She awkwardly pulls at the scarf she's wearing. It looks a little out of place, but it's better than the questions she feels she would get.]

[jirk]

[Well, he would take no, but his personality seems to suggest quite the opposite, alas.]

Did I say you were bad?

[His tone keeps the mildness, and that grin becomes a little bit closer to a genuine smile. She reminds him a little bit of Clara, maybe when she was younger, and he doesn't mind being careful.]

[relatable]

You made it sound like I've never danced before.

[She follows him, a cooler smile as the nerves dissipate. If she doesn't think about it, she can easily return to being the smarmy teenage girl she once was.]

[jirk]

A girl as pretty as you? I don't think I could fathom.

[Okay, so it's a little over the top, but it's earnest enough. Their loss, if nobody'd asked her before. But she had simply said it was a while. Dancing's one of those things that's hard to forget.

He tips his hand at the dancefloor. He's barefoot - has been for most of the night - and steps onto the thick carpets with the familiarity of a day spent dancing.]

[relatable]

You flatterer. [But he does manage to get a small smile out of her before she follows him out on the floor, standing opposite of him as another song starts up.]

[jirk]

I'd say it's my middle name, but--

[He sweeps her gently out in a bit of a spin, grinning, but careful about it. He doesn't think she's going to be the sort of person that appreciates Jim Kirk: unplugged.]

It's actually 'Tiberius'. If you can believe it.

[relatable]

[She can't help the small smile at that.] That's a horrible middle name.

[jirk]

Not a Shakespeare kind of girl? Let me guess--

[He tilts his head to one side, making a big, grand show of studying her.]

Bronte?

[relatable]

[That actually makes her laugh. Romantic? Her?]

You'd be closer with Poe. [Not that she is one of those emo girls, but Telltale Heart is more closely accurate to her own life.]

[jirk]

Poe?

[It's not said with incredulity but rather an intense amount of speculation.]

Ravens and writing desks kind of girl, huh?

[He never was a big fan of Poe. Jim tends to read things like the d'Artagnan Romances more than anything.]

[relatable]

Maybe I've lived a life you don't know about. [Her lip quirks.]

And I don't know what kind of girl I am. Just not one waiting for someone to save her.

[jirk]

Ooh, mystery, intrigue. I like that in a woman.

[Gentle teasing, of course.]

Why would anyone want to wait around for that? Come on. 'Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero'. My Latin's probably a little rusty.

[relatable]

[She just keeps smirking at him. Kirk, you do not want to get involved.]

Seize the day with minimum something posterity? [She doesn't know.] Besides I already learned you have to handle things on your own.

[jirk]

[He always wants to be involved. With everything. It's his Kryptonite.]

'Seize the day, trusting as little as possible in the next'. Roughly. It's from Odes. By Horace.

[He has so much nerd street cred it's not even funny. ... Well, it's a little funny.]

And hey, who taught you that? Because let me tell you, they're completely wrong. All you need are people you can trust, the rest's easy.

[relatable]

A man who likes the classics. [She may be impressed, Kirk.]

Trust doesn't always come easy. [Not when you have a past like hers.]

People can hurt you. [Says the girl with a scar across her neck.]

[jirk]

What can I say? I'm a traditional guy.

[But his teasing doesn't quite have any bite to it.]

I dunno, I'd say that's letting them win. When you choose to distrust people based on the actions of a few.

[relatable]

And if they're the actions of your father? [She tilts her head with raised eyebrows, a knowing look. It's not that she really wants to talk about what made her as fucked up as she is, but if the people who are supposed to protect you hurt you the most, what does it say about your outlook on others?]

[jirk]

Then you swear to never be like him.

[That's a little more vehement than it needs to be for a 'theoretical' conversation. Jim's father may be dead, but the man his mother married afterwards was sure as hell no saint.]

[relatable]

[She understands his sentiment. Parents can really fuck up their kids. Her smile is faint, but she doesn't think it's that easy.]

You really see the world like that. In things that are only levels of attainable.

[jirk]

Certain things shape you, sure. But you're still an individual person who gets to make individual choices. Good or bad. The trick is not to let all the bad choices dominate your life. Treat it as a lesson learned. Move on.

[He lifts one shoulder in a shrug, and abruptly, the music changes over to something with a faster tempo. He hadn't really registered the passage of time, and he frowns slightly.]

[relatable]

[She gives a small smile when the song stops, stepping back.]

Sometimes people won't let you move on.