sixthiterationlogs | [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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"The outfit, at least. I wouldn't be able to say about the actually costumes themselves."

She's not entirely ruling out the possibility that they happen to mean something. That they've each been given the costume they have for more of a reason than chance. But at the same time she can't say for certain. Whatever the reasoning might be, it's not exactly something that anyone is mentioning.

"And it does sound like that would be difficult to maintain."

Not that she's particularly aware of the finer details of Hawke's life. But even so, it does sound rather high-maintenance. Not that hers can't be either, but she's also not trying to keep it quite as short as Hawke had apparently.

"It could be that. Or they could simply want to see what we'd make of it." Which isn't entirely better as far as Phryne's concerned. But it's not something that either of them can actually do anything about either, as frustrating as that is.

"And several months, thus far."

"It was easier to keep it short in the army because there's people willing to cut it. But as soon as we got to a town, my mother was like really, Marian, now you can look like a lady." Her mother left her noble house for an ill-advised marriage, but she always kept a bit of that class and snobbery in her. In the best sense; she was, after all, a remarkable hostess and beloved amongst most who met her. Hawke tried not to think too deeply on that particular loss, outside of wishing she'd worn a few more gowns for her in retrospect.

"That sounds about right." Hawke peers upwards as if expecting someone there is looking down. That's her assumption, it's the easiest way to keep an eye on them, from above. She herself often used higher perches to watch people. They might have some kind of unique magic to the spying, anything was possible. "Or they want us to think about whether there's some secret message so we'll think about what it could all mean."

Basically, who knows at this point. "There's food and drink so it could be worse."

"And a distinct advantage to having something your enemies couldn't grab, I'd imagine. To say nothing of more... sanitary concerns."

Phryne knows absolutely nothing about the battlefields of the Thedas. To be perfectly honest, she's not sure she wants to. But even without trenches having been involved, she knows very well that short hair is far easier to wash and when it comes down to having to the deal with blood (and everything else that a battlefield tends to entail) not needing to spend absolutely forever washing one's hair is definitely an advantage.

"Besides, I don't see why someone can't look like a lady and still have short hair. However short she should care to keep it."

Still, she's just as willing to put that topic aside in favor of discussing the matter of the party and what the Observers might be up to, offering a shrug at Hawke's comment.

"I wouldn't put either past them, at this point. But there is that."

"That's the funny part, my mother has hair not dissimilar from your own!" Hawke shrugs, no real answer. Mothers. "Had, I mean." Andraste she really should have the right tense down by now. She refuses to linger on that, nope. "She was a bit old fashioned about her daughters I suppose, I think it was a generalized dress in actual clothing and not armor, don't carry a broadsword to dinner, stop slouching in your chair and swearing at the Knight-Commander." She smiles; yeah, it's rough, to remember her after her death, but it's also fond memories. She may not have been the type of noblewoman her mother wanted, but she fussed because she cared.

Hawke thinks it is a rather interesting looking party, if very odd. It's not boring. She does like not-boring things. "I think I'll leave the speculating to people who like to speculate. I gave up on trying to understand complicated magical situations some time ago." Or rather, she understood parts, it just ended up with no win scenarios and she had no interest in no win scenarios.

"So who do you think that costume is?"

The sudden change of tense is absolutely something Phryne spots. It's not really any of her business, mind, not unless Hawke should particular care to share the finer details, but it's very much something she notices. Likely as a side-effect of doing the sort of work she does, if she has any guess. But rather than let her imagination run away with her, she listens instead to what Hawke has to say about her mother, nodding as appropriate.

"To be honest, I would have imagined a Knight-Commander would be used to a certain amount of swearing."

Assuming they bear any sort of resemblance to the soldiers she'd been familiar with back home anyway, and she can't imagine there wouldn't be at least some similarities, despite the fact that they're so clearly from different worlds.

"And if I'm right, this is meant to be King James."

"Oh not Meredith." Hawke's tone noticeably darkens and she scowls. Not at Phyrne of course, but Meredith is a frustrating ghost. "She ruled with a cruel fist, everyone was terrified of her, and I had to put up with her for so much longer than sanity would allow." So Hawke had many swears for the woman, and she only barely tolerated her back because taking down the Champion of Kirkwall wouldn't go so well for her. "Then she tried to murder all the mages so I got to stab her a lot." Hawke pauses and winces. "Sorry, have to keep remembering that talking about killing people isn't great dinner conversation." It was for her, alright?

"A king! Interesting." She knew King Alistair from in person, an adorable sort he was, but she didn't see quite as pleased with it. "Was he the bad sort of king?"

[MINGLE] Saints & Sinners Masquerade

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