entrancelogs | IO, SATURNALIA!

Entry tags:

IO, SATURNALIA! | OPEN

Who: EVERYONE
Where: THE BALLROOM
When: THREE WHOLE DAYS - 12/17-12/19
Rating: PG-13 (or higher depending how rowdy you guys get)
Summary: IO, SATURNALIA! The party has arrived and it is here to stay for 72 hours straight of good food, gambling, dancing, drinking, singing, and so on and so forth!
The Story:

A few days into Ewaymas, on December 15th, everyone will wake up to a scroll outside their door. This scroll is an invitation to a Saturnalia celebration in two days, and everyone is welcome! If asked for clothing for the party, the closets will provide synthesis – brightly colored Roman robes – for the occasion, but the dress code is mostly just colorful and fun, if you choose to abide by it.

Starting on the 17th there will be a lavish feast in the ballroom, and food and drink are never in short supply. Drunkenness is encouraged, but there will be non-alcoholic beverages as well. There will be tables set up for gambling and dice games, music from a wide variety of worlds (specifically to encourage loud singing along and dancing all night - some are holiday remixes but others aren't), and areas for dancing and playing other games. The decorations are all in a rainbow of bright colors like the synthesis, with suns hanging up and candles floating in the air. Laurels and pileus will be available at the party for everyone to wear on their heads.

It's the kind of party that will get increasingly louder and rowdier...and it literally won't end for three whole days. Those prone to gluttony, greed, or even just escapism will find themselves not wanting to leave the party at all. There's always something to do and you can always just pass out of the floor when you're tired, right? Right! No one knows how to party like the Romans did. At the end of the day on the 19th though, all of the decorations and food will vanish and the party will abruptly come to an end.

Prose or [Action Brackets] are more than welcome, and if you have any questions please send them over to the FAQ thread for the event!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[It hadn't taken long for Alistair to end up more than a little tipsy, wandering around the feast in his too-fancy doublet with drink in hand and a smile on his face. Even if he'd been completely sober though he'd have still stopped and stared when he caught sight of a blue woman sitting and watching the festivities. Before he can look away and pretend he wasn't gaping at her like a idiot their eyes meet, making him start guiltily and look away. He can't just pretend she didn't catch him staring so he slowly makes his way over and drops into a seat nearby, watching her from the corner of his eye.]

You look like a desire demon.

[He hadn't meant to say what he'd been thinking out loud like that, it had just sort of slipped out and he immediately starts babbling to try and explain himself.]

I mean with the clothes and the- [A hand waves in her general direction, trying somehow to encompass all of her.] Everything. I'm not saying you are! You don't have horns and you'd be doing demony things if you were and I a met a green woman before and she's not a demon so I don't really think you are one but you look like one and I was just thinking-"

[He's just making things worse now, isn't he?]

I'm going to shut up now.

[Like most mutants who find their bodies capable of accelerated healing and decelerated aging, Mystique's got a metabolism that all cake-loving adults would be envious of. It does, however, make the effects of most alcohol fleeting -- something she's not all that upset about, since being less than razor-sharp in a place that she still considers strange is not on the top of her to-do list.

When the overdressed blonde wanders over to her, then, she has most of her wits about her...and maybe she wants to tease him, just a little. She rolls leisurely onto her side in a way she knows shows off the most of her curves and raises an eyebrow at him.

-- she has a soft spot for rambling nerds, Alistair. Consider yourself getting off lightly.]

At a party like this, I'd imagine there's a lot of people doing things that someone might think is 'demon-y'.

[She's seen more than one set of people off in a corner, doing naughty things.]

No, no -- keep going. What is it that you were thinking? Because you look like you stepped right out of a medieval faire, and I can only assume it's going to be really entertaining.

[If he were completely sober it would be hard to stop his eyes following the line of her body as she moves, staring again for entirely different reasons. As he's not? Well, when Alistair manages to drag his attention back to look at her face his own is a bright red. He's distantly aware he's acting like a barbarian, ogling her like that and that's not what he's like really. It's just... she's not wearing anything and as weird as the fact that she's blue is it's not weird enough to override that. At least with demons he's always been more worried about what they're planning to do to him so what they look like isn't an issue.

And he should actually listen to what she's saying instead of getting lost in his own head.]

You're making fun of me. [His affronted look is quickly replaced by a smile - it's not like he hasn't had plenty worse from people he's known longer.] I... can't remember what I was going to say. What I was thinking. Probably something about how you are, ah, not a demon or anything bad and I shouldn't say things like that. And I do look pretty stupid myself so I really shouldn't judge people for how they look. But then I am acting it so maybe there's something to judging from appearances.

[Well, if she wants rambling he's definitely good at that. Practically an expert.]

[Oh, Alistair...it's so very dangerous to look at Mystique like you are right now. She'd spent so long being self-conscious that the fact he can't tear his eyes off her until he knows he's spent too long staring practically makes her body purr with satisfaction.

Maybe a desire demon isn't so far off, then. The smile on her lips turns just a little predatory as he speaks again.]

I'm making fun of you, but ... not because I'm offended.

[She makes a point of looking him over very thoroughly.]

I don't know about stupid. Out of place, maybe.

[Her head drops to the side slightly.]

I'm Mystique. What should I call you?

[There, she's throwing him a conversational bone.]

[Annd he's turning even brighter red, almost matching some of the decorations in colour. Despite his embarrassment at the appraisal he can't stop a pleased smile in response.]

Alistair. I'm Alistair. [He gratefully latches onto that conversation thread like a drowning man. Or one trying not to put his foot in his mouth again.]

Is your name really Mystique? That's a bit odd. Or is it normal where you're from?

[Looking the way she does he's guessing she must be from some strange place, unlike anything he knows. So maybe it's not strange to her. It's oddly fitting though and he's quick to add-] It's a nice name and it suits you! Or I think it does.

[Instead of thinking that he is making an even further fool of himself, she chooses to continue to focus on his approval cues. The smile and the tone of his voice don't suggest anything rude about saying "where she is from", and if her observations of the party so far are ant indicaton...there seem to actually be multiple universes and potentially planets for the inhabitants here.

Still, she manages a light laugh.]

It's not the name my parents gave me, but it's the name I chose for myself. Like you said, I think it suits me a lot better than my birth name.

[And it had the added bonus of reminding her less of the people who refused to accept her as a mutant and three her out more or less to the literal wolves as a child, which is also good.]

You can come sit closer, you know...now that you've established I'm not a desire demon.

[She pats the edge of the couch. To be fair, she really is taking up a good portion of it. Any seat he could take would be ... cozy.]

What exactly does a desire demon do? Other than evil, presumably.

Iiii think I'll stay here thanks. I wouldn't want to crowd you.

[That's just getting a little too snug for him, given they've only just met and she's not wearing any clothes. Which is still all kinds of awkward but he's (maybe?) doing better at looking at her face and not... elsewhere.]

That about covers it. [A shrug. He's not exactly an expert on the topic for all that he's encountered enough of them.] They try and tempt people so they can possess them and enter the real world. I've seen men trapped by the illusions they create with no hope of escaping.

[Alistair stops with a frown and shakes his head. Once the room has stopped swaying again he says-] That's not a very cheerful subject. Maybe we should talk about something else. Like you! That would be much better than talking about demons.

I wouldn't be crowded, but if you're shy...

[She manages a slight smirk, though, and cants her head to the side. He's swaying, and that does actually mean she'll let her former-waitress instincts kick in. She sits up on the couch, making room for him and then motioning to the now-opened spot once more.]

...I can make some room. I'd rather not have to clean up your blood if you end up falling on the floor.

[She purses her lips.]

I can't say for sure that talking about me is going to be cheerful, either. What do you want to know?

[He pouts a little at the suggestion that he's shy - he'd rather think of it as gentlemanly but fine.]

I'm not going to start bleeding everywhere just from a fall.

[He thinks. It would be embarrassing if he did. It's mostly defensiveness that makes him argue the point given he hasn't often had the opportunity to drink much. Alistair considers the space she's made for a moment before moving to join her, dropping heavily into the seat. Despite the alcohol he does his best not to crowd her for now, though that could well change.

He pauses, a worried expression flashing across his face. The way she says it, that she's not going to be a particularly cheerful topic to talk about, he's worried he's said the wrong thing. But Mystique doesn't seem offended and hasn't said she'd rather talk about something else. And he really is curious.]

Where are you from? I've never seen your people before.

[It can be a bit of both, Alistair - to be fair.

She snorts at his statement, though.]

All right, you've got me on that one. Unless you had really bad luck, you probably wouldn't.

[She doesn't consider it crowding, really, and she's used to being the person doing the invading of peoples' personal space...so she reclines a little again, swirling her drink.

Her lips twitch into an amused smirk.]

I don't really have a 'people' in the way that you're saying it. There are other mutants where I'm from, but nobody who really looks much like me.

[Azazel or Beast were the closest in texture and colour, respectively.

Or ... Azazel was. She swallows that thought and shakes her head.]

Both my parents were human.

[Maybe they still are, but she doesn't know -- or care.]

Well, my luck is pretty bad usually.

[He grins a little at that and sways closer, listening to her answer with an intent expression. Leaning back again he stares at Mystique in bafflement, clearly struggling to make sense of things.]

You- I. Oh. That's... weird.

[Both her parents were human. So she's human? But she's blue. And... different. But still human?

Alistair's face clears so suddenly there should really be a lightbulb hovering over his head - or a lightning bolt given his next question.]

You're like a mage then! [Mages could be born to non-mage parents. In fact, from what he'd been told most were, as most mages didn't really get to have children.] Do you do magic?

[There's a hint of wariness about him now, that he can't hide with as much as he's had to drink. She seems nice but his history with mages hasn't been the best and, well, he really doesn't want to get turned into a toad or something. He's never seen it happen but it could still be possible.]

[She's fully prepared to be offended by his use of the word 'weird' until he looks like he relates what she's saying to something (she presumes) from his world.

When the word 'mage' comes out of his mouth, she has to suppress a laugh - but it's clear enough a few moments later that he wasn't kidding. He really has come out of some sort of fantasy novel, hasn't he?]

...no, not magic. I know some people like me whose powers might be mistaken for magic, but it's -- not that, really. We don't use staffs, and we don't fly.

[She pauses.]

Okay, I don't fly, and only the mutants with wings can really fly.

[Not like Erik's levitation using magnetic fields, or Banshee's gliding.]

If I show you what I can do, you have to promise not to, uh -- start a mob and hunt me down or something.

[Alistair nods eagerly, more than a little excited to see what she can do if not magic. Or flying. Which is almost a shame but maybe she can do something just as good.]

Trust me, if I ever tried to raise a mob I'd be the one who'd end up getting run out of town - or crazy-land - by it instead.

[He's sure that he's just that bad a leading people, no matter the goal. But she is asking seriously and if the mutants she talks about are even a little bit like mages then it makes sense she's wary. Most people in Ferelden are nervous around magic and mistrustful of mages, even when they're trying to help. His expression turns earnest and (briefly) serious.]

But I promise. I'm not going to hurt you. [He pauses then adds-] Unless you start cackling madly and trying to turn me into a frog. Then I'll feel justified in fighting back but only because I'm too charming to be a frog. OK?

[Wow, this guy has got some self-esteem issues. She can't really talk, though, so no judgment from her -- at least out loud. She laughs, shaking her head.]

Okay, got it. No cackling, no frogs. I won't even ribbit at you, just in case.

[And with a shake of her head, she decides to show him exactly what she can do. Her skin ripples smoothly down so that she's settled in the form of first her usual blonde body, and then so that she's an exact copy of Alistair himself.]

Ta-da!

[She holds her arms out with flourish, even.]

[He does not! ...OK, maybe he does but that's not anyone's business.

Alistair gapes as Mystique changes before his eyes, first into a pretty young woman - with clothes thankfully - and then into his own, larger form, also fortunately clothed. He's seen Morrigan shapeshift before so it's not completely new to him but Morrigan turns into giant spiders or bears and the like not people. And she'd never ever look like him even if she could mimic others.]

That's amazing!

[He reaches out to poke 'himself' in the chest cautiously, confirming that yes, it's real not just some illusion.]

Can you turn into anything you like? Or anyone?

[The part of him that still remembers his training to control mages points out that it could be dangerous too if she can imitate anyone - like the ruler of a nation. But so is magic when used for the wrong purpose and Mystique hasn't given him any reason to mistrust her so that part can shut up.]

[Well, this was a much more hilarious reaction than the ones she's had so far from others. She grins, still in his body, and clears her throat.]

Anyone, anything. Within reason.

[Things that were larger than her or significantly smaller took a toll on her body and were harder to maintain. She wasn't going to just share that with someone she'd only just met, though. She lets her body shift back to its resting form, pulling a knee up to her chest. She's more comfortable speaking to him now that he knows about her mutation, and it shows in her posture.]

I've never tried something more than a few times my size, and I've always stuck to living things.

[The idea of shifting into something that doesn't naturally breathe is -- unsettling.]

[She even sounds like him! Which should be less of a surprise than it is, as it wouldn't be very useful looking different if she still sounded the same.]

Wow. That really is incredible!

[He's grinning broadly as she changes back, leaning closer and gesturing expansively while speaking. She does appear more at ease now and it makes Alistair relax (further) in turn. Not that he needed much encouragement to start with.]

So you couldn't turn into a dragon? There goes that brilliant plan. [Unless it was a young dragon, those were smaller. But he didn't really want a dragon around anyway.]

I know a witch who can turn into animals but I've never seen anyone do something like that. Is it common where you're from?

[She had mentioned people with wings before but maybe that was also a shapeshifting thing. Or a strange-looking-person thing. Something like that.]

[Careful, Alistair, or you might touch one of her pretty bare legs. She pauses, raising her eyebrow.]

I can honestly say I've never tried to turn into a dragon. I try to stick to creatures that actually exist - it's a little easier for people to believe you that way.

[She focuses back on what he's saying. Okay, so magic is a real thing where he's from. Interesting.]

As far as I know, I'm the only one who's developed this mutation. I know at least a few psychics, and people with varied abilities to fly, like I said -- but I'm one-of-a-kind, for now.

...what exactly were you planning that involved a dragon?

Dragons are real, I- [Right. Different places. How exactly did he manage to forget that when she's blue?] I mean, they're real where I'm from.

[But he sees her point. A dragon would draw lots of attention in Thedas too and everyone knows they exist.]

What? No, I wasn't planning anything with a dragon! Dragons are terrible. I was just- I don't really want a dragon.

[The ones he'd had the displeasure of meeting he'd rather not have. There was no need to repeat the experience. Really none.]

So there's no one else who can do what you do? Does that mean you taught yourself how to change your shape?

[Mages needed to be taught their magic so he's assuming Mystique would have required the same. But if no one else can do what she does then she must have figured it all out on her own somehow. Which would be no mean feat if it's anything like magic.]

...ah, of course. I did say you looked like you'd just stepped out of one of those high-fantasy novels.

[She can't help the small laugh, though -- she smiles, shakes her head -- at least up until he asks her about her powers. Her face falls and she drains her glass almost sulkily before she answers his question. Someone twirls by and fills up her glass again, fortunately.]

Nobody else. And I didn't -- teach myself anything. It just ... happened. Your powers manifest first when you're angry or scared. I was fighting with another child who was over at my home, and she hit me -- I just watched my skin change.

She ran away. It took me a day to look like who I'd been before again, but not before my family threw me out.

[Cheery, that.]

Ok?

[He's really not sure what she means by a 'high-fantasy' novel - unless it's what she calls one of those Orlesian stories about over-dressed nobles flouncing about betraying each other. In which case he does look the part. It would be an embarrassing comparison if he didn't manage to ruin the good mood a moment later.]

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up bad memories. [He chews on his lip worriedly before offering-]

I- The man who raised me. He sent me away when I was just a boy, to a place I hated. It's not the same but I understand a little what it's like to lose your home.

[Even if he hadn't been very welcome in Redcliffe before he left, it had been the only home he'd ever known and being sent away had hurt.]

[Well, when it comes to reactions to her little story ... Alistair's isn't the worst that she's come across by a pretty wide margin. She grimaces, taking another sip of her drink before she continues. She might as well try to be sympathetic with someone that she might actually have things in common with.]

The man who raised you -- not your father, then. I'm -- sorry, I know what that's like too.

[Charles had taken her in, and although she'd made her choice to leave him and he hadn't sent her away, it was still painful.]

It was so long ago, I don't even know if they're bad memories any more. Just ... memories. I don't even call myself by the same name any more. It helps.

-- where'd he send you?

It was a while ago for me too and I... understand why he made that choice. I didn't at the time but like you said, it's just a memory now.

[And since then he's had a chance to speak with Eamon again, however briefly. It's a better outcome than it sounds like Mystique had so he shouldn't complain. In answer to her question Alistair smiles and shrugs, some of his earlier good humour returning.]

He sent me to an abbey. I'm not especially pious so you can guess how I felt about that.

[Along with the fact that he hadn't gotten along with any of the other boys there it hadn't been a happy place for him. It's not something he cares to discuss much so, in an effort to lighten the tone he nudges her, leaning in conspiratorially.]

You think I should try changing my name too? I never tried. I could start calling myself Al... fred? What do you think? Does it suit me?

[Not that a new name would have changed the important facts of his life, mind. The people who mattered would still know him and his unfortunate royal heritage whatever he called himself so it wouldn't have made a difference there. Still it's better than the two of them dwelling on unpleasant memories.]

[She's still mad at her family, but having them abandon and then later try to kill you -- it means you develop something of a sore spot over it. When he mentions not being pious, she laughs herself.]

At least you know that entering a church doesn't make heathens burst into flame in your world, right? That's something.

[Then he mentions the name-change idea and her laughter heightens.]

I think that Alfred sounds like you're the butler to a masked superhero, so you should probably try again. How about ...

[She purses her lips, thinking, and leaning in a little so that their shoulders are touching past the nudge.]

Liam!

[It's practically 'ali', right? Close enough.]

That's true. Bursting into flame is reserved for people who fight dragons, no matter who they worship.

[It would be absolutely terrible if Chantries could make people catch fire. He'd just bet they'd use it on people who fell asleep during the boring bits - something he knew nothing about, of course - and that would just be cruel.

But he's relieved to see her laughing - it's much better than talking about things that upset her.]

'Liam'? That's not very manly.

[Which is so very important to him and his manly pride. His pride that would never tolerate anything like him embarrassing himself in front of pretty girls or wearing anything less intimidating than blood-splattered armour - like fancy outfits fit for a prancing noble.

Still leaning against her, Alistair twists around to smile widely down at her, shaking his head cheerfully.]

Come on, there has to be something manlier than that! Like maybe... Hmmm, Caleb? No, that's no good... This is hard! How long did it take you to come up with Mystique? I bet it took forever, admit it!

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