sixthiterationlogs | [MINGLE] Saints & Sinners Masquerade

[MINGLE] Saints & Sinners Masquerade

WHERE: Corn field next to the inn
WHEN: 31 October, all day and night
OPEN TO: ALL - MINGLE
WARNINGS: Please warn as appropriate in your subject lines
NOTES: Please make sure you have read and understand the event details! If you have questions, drop them here. RECOMMENDED BUT NOT REQUIRED: Put your SCRUBS COLOR in your OTA subject line for folks doing bingo. Time your OTA for the harvest feast, the masquerade, or both. Costume matches and details for folks who did not get matched are here.

This morning, our intrepid villagers awoke to a surprise of the nicer kind: A bundle of clothing left at the foot of their bed, tied with a bow. There is also a note: Put on your new outfit and join the festivities in the corn field next to the inn.

You may be thinking, what corn field next to the inn? The one that sprung up fully-mature overnight, of course.

In the middle of the field, villagers will find an autumn feast: Tables piled with harvest time food and drink, warm and rustic decorations, the day's sunshine fending off any chill in the air.

Tuck in and enjoy, villagers, but take note: Things often look different in the dark, and you might be one of them.

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Dorian, happily sipping his second glass of punch (it's strong punch and he's quite pleased, kidnapping or no) seems to have lucked out in the costume department, but he can't help but notice Hawke. How couldn't, after all? Her rage reminds him of a certain Seeker as well, momentarily of course, and he takes a sip, olive eyes moving over her form as a mischievous smirk turns the corners of his mouth.

"But it accentuates your fine figure quite well, Hawke. You do have remarkable hips, you know. I don't know if anyone's ever said."

Hawke shoots him a look that if it was anyone else in the world, they'd be in for a thorough stabbing with her pointy blades. But it's Dorian, so she rolls her eyes instead. "Don't say it like that, the amount of times they've been called child bearing hips at me, with implicated glares, often led me to contemplate homicide." Mostly from older women, and that's why they usually don't end up bleeding. She feels less bad about cutting lecherous old men than judgmental hags. As if Hawke would be stupid enough to ever have children. She could barely function as an adult herself.

"Of course you bloody look perfect, there is no justice in the world."

"Isn't that what makes them so alluring? Some primal need to have them bear one's seed or some such?" He takes another sip from his glass, still smirking and that mischief still glittering in his eyes.

"Naturally." He runs a hand along the lapel of his coat. "I am both charming and dashing, it's true."

Hawke makes a disgusted face. "I'm certain that's what they would say, yes." She then can't help smiling, because it is more natural to her, and the idea is funny. "I would love to see a man try to approach me that way. See how far that got them." She crosses arms against her chest which does not in fact help how curvaceous she appears at the moment, which immediately makes her drop said arms. "It's not that I'm a prude, I just like picking my own clothes out."

She snorts and rolls her eyes. "Like you need any more stroking of your ego. Don't get too cocky, everyone in this village is very attractive. That might very well be the theme."

"Certainly! Who doesn't?" He watches with growing amusement her unease at the prospect of marriage, arranged or otherwise, and entertains himself, at least in the back of his mind, with imagining the adventurous figure from Varric's book settling down and procreating. It's downright ridiculous and he can't help the smile curling the corners of his mouth.

"I have it on good authority the breaking suitors' arms is an effective solution." His smile only broadens at her remark and he laughs slightly. "Please. We're always surrounded by beautiful people, Hawke. There is still a scale." And I'm still on top of it.

"I wonder what you'd look like in this get up. Men around here are in less." Hawke tries not to stare at them in appreciation, because she wouldn't particularly like it if someone did the same to her. But it is enticing. Hawke never had any intention of settling down and procreating back home. Not even when she imagined a happy future with Anders or once upon a time Isabela, fool that she was, it wasn't that cliche. Bethany could carry on the family name.

She smiles wryly. "My mother had a moment or two of madness when she considered floating across the idea of suitors with me. I'm certain an apostate mage was not what she had in mind, but like mother like daughter I suppose." Ugh ugh ugh no thinking of Anders. She regrets saying so, but oh well, too late now. Hawke chuckles and glances toward the other people again. "You're very pretty, Dorian, but my taste runs toward men and women I can actually seduce. Not that I'm any good at it. I am so bad at it."

Edited 2018-11-23 17:51 (UTC)

"Splendid, naturally." Dorian may doubt his value to someone on the grounds of emotional stability, or whether or not he measured up to much of anything, but he was beyond confident in his physical attractiveness and his charm.

He grinned more broadly at her explanation and laughed. "Perhaps in another life, Hawke. You are a beautiful woman, after all."

Hawke grins at him. "What a wonderful life we might have had, sassing, drinking, mocking or judging everyone around us." She wouldn't say she's judgmental, it's quite the opposite, but she might do it as a joke. She loves making people laugh, so the fact she managed to make him fills her with warm fuzzies. She thinks it's likely she would find him attractive if he was interested in women, but she thinks Bull is attractive and he's into women, and still doesn't bother flirting with him. Well, outside of what is only natural.

"What is your type?" She's quite curious. "Do you like casual hook ups? I bet I can set you up with someone handsome given a little guidance." She's a great wingman! Not a great seducer.

"Hawke, the sentiment is lovely indeed, but I am more than capable of finding my own entertainment." And he does, often when he's of a mind. Only casual hook ups, of course. None really...want him to stick around, but that particular bruise was hidden beneath enough wine, of course.

"And we certainly would. Do you recall, for instance, the sorry excuses for uniforms the Inquisition forces were subjected to?"

"Of course you can, but sometimes it's fun to let your friends set you up. Or is that not a thing with your friends? We used to make bets on each other." Hawke always lost because she was absolutely terrible at picking people up, but of course her heart was no longer in it after a time. Still, those were fun memories, in better times. "Isabela was the best at it, you remind me of her." Attractive, charming, a wicked sense of humor, and far more depth behind it all than either of them would like others to see.

Hawke groaned and then laughed. "Those poor people. This is why I hate uniforms. There is no uniform in any world that looks attractive on everyone." She was currently wearing something she would say was worse, but not by much!

"We had rather more pressing matters to which to attend." That was, of course, to say that Dorian would never hear of such a thing. He was infinitely confident in his abilities to charm, to cast a mean fireball, to reanimate the dead and look positively dashing doing it, but when it came to interpersonal relationships, well...

"She was the pirate was she not? I remind you of a sea scoundrel?"

"Right, you all had a time table. We had a lot of years in Kirkwall. At least a few segments of those years were boring. Like two months total." Kirkwall was a trashfire of a city for a variety of reasons, and she loved it dearly. Even if she wasn't dead, she probably wouldn't have gone back. She was more a problem than a boon to them these days. Someone else might have an actual shot at cleaning it up. She would simply love it from afar. "So we got to drink and have sex and play Wicked Grace. It wasn't always terrible." Ish.

She laughed at his reply. "It's a compliment, although I can see why it might not seem so. Isabela's a scoundrel, but she's beautiful and charismatic and very witty." She loved her so very much. Hawke was someone with a lot of love in her heart, but not someone who would be comfortable admitting to it. "Also jaded and mysterious. She had this remarkable talent for hiding her depth and true self behind those qualities, until you dug in deeper."

"My dear woman. Varric was in attendance. We found time for at least one game of Wicked Grace." And then he laughed, rather abruptly, as a memory returned to him.

"I recall one instance in which Varric invited us all, Ser Cullen and the lovely Ambassador Montilyet among those in attendance, and we all learned a valuable lesson that night." He took a sip from his glass before continuing. "That, of course, being 'never play Wicked Grace with an Antivan.'"

He mulled over Hawke's assessment of Isabela, nodding slightly. She did, in fact, sound like a fascinating woman, but all together too similar to himself to admit that. "She sounds intriguing, at any rate. She must have been to join your somewhat motley crew."

Hawke laughed, clapping her hands. "Oh you sweet creatures. Antivans are deviously good at it. I've yet to beat one, and I am a very good player." It took years of course, and losing quite a bit of coin on the way, but learning from Isabela and Varric fashioned her into an expert. "I can see underestimating her though, I only saw her briefly but she has such a sweet face." One she clearly managed to use to her advantage. Ah, brilliant women, how she loved them.

"It was never her intention to join us for long, but we were a group of former loners. Everyone made an exception." In many cases it worked out great. Their loving group helped each other get over the worst of situations and to make better choices than they would have on their own. Except Anders, who no one would have been able to stop. It was frustrating how much he still weighed on her, but that was the ridiculousness of love. "We didn't really have so noble a calling as the Inquisition, you all had very good reason to band together and save the world."

"Oh, I knew never to trust an Antivan. I came mostly for the wine and the entertainment." He chuckles, shaking his head. "Our dear Commander rose to the challenge, though, and lost everything." And that smile of his turned mischievous. "And I do mean everything."

He mulled over the rest for a bit, nodding eventually. She made a good point, after all. "In a way, so were we, outsiders that is, coming together in a world gone mad, because we wanted to set it to rights and damn what anyone else might think on the matter."

Hawke laughs. "Oh that must have been priceless." She salutes him with her new rum glass. "To outsiders trying to live in this world. Something we know well."

[Wrapping some October hings, maybe they can hang again on NYE!]

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[MINGLE] Saints & Sinners Masquerade

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