Snapshot RP: Winter’s Veil Night
It’s nine o’clock at night on Winter’s Veil. What is your character doing? Snippets! A string of rp! Share with the class!
*****
Yva Darrows is in a grassy field in Elwynn, watching a blue dragon flit near Jak’s head and wondering if this was her best idea. The blues are said to be hyper intelligent – at least, that’s what the books suggested. More cunning than most people, a drake hunter in Everlook said, and she’d just gone and procured one of the beasties from Winterspring without hesitation. Jak seems pleased enough, like it was a suitable gift, but she’s having second and third thoughts now. What if he turns out to be a problem? What if he’s smarter than they are? What if he ends up eating the dogs? Or her?
Oh pish. Too late now.
She plasters on a huge smile for Balthasar’s benefit.
“So you like him?”
“Of course I like him.”
She nods and Jak opens his new coat, suggesting she should get under it to share the warmth. Elwynn at night suffers a chill, as she knows. She does so, still smiling all bright and cheery, but her thoughts are racing about the new family member. Jak murmurs in her ear, his arms wrap around her, and the worry of the drake starts to fade away.
It’s only until much later when she’s squeaking like an under oiled gear that she realizes the drake is watching them.
Oh drat. I think it’s grinning.
*****
Vincenza Whitten has her foot in her brother-in-law’s lap. He’s massaging it, his smile aloof, but every once in a while his fingers stray up the back of her calf. She’s too drunk to think about it overly much. Besides, Bairix is here and Bran wouldn’t pursue anything too improper with his brother just a room away.
“I am so glad the two of you came over,” Lea says. “I was so afraid we’d not spend this holiday together.” Her smile is as sloppy as they come thanks to the two bottles of wine the women had shared, and she’s sprawling in the couch near the fireplace looking as content as a cat.
Bran’s hand snakes up to Vincenza’s knee, and then slide slides up to her thigh. The beautiful little smile remains in place as his fingers graze over her skin. She shudders, and it’s not from pleasure.
Damn it. Maybe he would pursue something improper.
“Stop that,” Vinnie leans in and squashes his nose with her finger, her voice low.
“Stop what?” Bairix’s voice this time, from the dining table where he’s enjoying his whiskey. She can feel his eyes on the back of her head.
Vinnie has a choice now – to tattle on Bran or to protect him – and in her addled state she chooses the one that will result in the brothers fighting the least.
“Bran’s just rubbing my foot, love. It’s nothing,” she lies.
*****
Rosilia Mathers is very drunk, but then, forty shots of blue label whiskey with her sister would do that. This was the first really good Winter’s Veil they’d had since they were kids. They had money, they had a roof over their heads. They were even able to exchange real gifts instead of hand drawn cards and whatever was pinchable off of the local gift carts.
“To us,” she says sloppily, raising her shot glass over her head.
“To us,” Lyr says in that same voice, mirroring the motion. They rap their knuckles on the kitchen table three times and shoot the whiskey back before dribbling into their chairs in boneless heaps.
“Holy shit. It burns so good,” Rosie rasps.
“I think I’m gonna puke.”
“Me too.”
” . . . AWESOME.”
And it was.
Filed in Open Thread, RP 4 Comments so far
Sarai on 29 Dec 2009 at 2:49 pm #
>.>
http://spiritbond.blogspot.com/2009/12/twas-night-before-winter-veil.html
<.<
Kel on 29 Dec 2009 at 5:07 pm #
^ What Sarai said
Will have to think of what Windstar and Tad would do. Being elves, I’m not sure if they would even celebrate, it might be more like just a quiet night with each other. Unless of course, if they happen by the Pig and find friends there. Hmmm… /thinking cap
Duugvilder on 29 Dec 2009 at 5:51 pm #
Duugvilder is putting the finishing touches on the gifts he is sending to as many of his new friends as he could remember. A bow here, some festive paper there, and don’t forget the note – the note is the most important thing! He is glad for the opportunity to wish his friends a happy Winter Veil celebration, but something is bothering him. It’s not just that he thinks he may have forgotten someone, though any oversight would be unforgivable to him. It’s that…he seems to have lost two days somewhere and can’t figure out where the time went.
Duugvilder convinces himself that the missing days aren’t important. They’ll come back to him…or maybe, like the day lost to heavy drinking with Friend Skulley, he’ll just know the time is gone and unrecoverable and move on with his life. He counts out the packages to be sent out one more time, hoping that no one has been missed. Then he feeds all of his pets, wishing them all a happy Winter Veil, and heads out to send his Friends their gifts.
As he makes his way back to his lodging, he realizes who he forgot and curses the oversight. He rushes to the bank withdraws most of the gold, cloth, and herbs he still has. He finds a few (thankfully) open shops and quickly purchases items he knows will be appreciated. Then he reaches his drake, apologizes for the inconvenience of sudden travel, and flies off.
The trip takes less time than he thought it would. He lands near the cottage, unloads the gifts he brought, and knocks on the door. The door opens and an old woman squints at Duugvilder. Her eyes widen in recognition and Duugvilder smiles. “Happy Winter Veil, Mother. Is father still awake?”
Bellesta on 02 Jan 2010 at 8:11 pm #
Bellesta slams back against the furs, arms splayed out, panting and gasping for air. After several seconds she reaches up, tangling her fingers in a matted mane of green atop Feliche’s head, buried between her neck and shoulder.
“Merry Winter’s Veil.” He rasps, the movement of their bodies slowly coming to a stop. Feliche drags his teeth and lips across Bellesta’s sweat-damp skin, up her neck and to her jawline. She murmurs contentedly in a haze. “Y-yeah. Merry and all that.” Her head rolls back, grinning a toothy grin as Feliche climbs off of her, reaching for a nearby bottle of wine. A pop of a cork later and he’s tipping the end over Bell’s lips. She has to stop panting in order to swallow the offered drink.
“Think it’s been worth it?” Bellesta turns her head, watching the bottle lift to Fel’s lips as he takes his own greedy drink.
“What’s been?” He puts the drink down, expression puzzled.
“The whole year, and all.”
“O’course.” Feliche shrugs, moving in again and laying back down, curling up to Bell’s side, hand running up her bare stomach. He leans in, murmuring with his nose pressed to the stump of her right ear. “Always been.”
—-
Adel Ashawe is cold.
She stares out across the seemingly endless frozen expanse, flicking her gaze up to the towers of the citadel silhouetted on the horizon. Around her men and women of the Crusade eat in silence. They all know the day, of the celebrations back home they’d be absent for. Adel glances to her left, Charles there hasn’t seen his wife for a year. She looks to her right, Paula doesn’t even know if she has any reason to go home. No one around her wants to be reminded of what they were missing.
She unfolds a paper in her gloved hands, fumbling with the yellowed parchment. She squints, reading it again in hopes that the words would be enough to hold her another few weeks.
“No matter where you are, you’re always close to my heart.
Merry Winter’s Veil,
Dravir.”