The Yule Log

[ragnarsson]

who: The Norse and everyone else in the city!
what: The Norse celebrate Yule. Gods help everyone.
when: December 22nd, Winter Solstice
where: Somewhere outside
warnings: Alcohol, drugs, animal sacrifice, blood play, rough foreplay, sex. Will update if necessary.



The Yule celebration has gotten underway on the Winter Solstice and it promises to be a most interesting night. The Norse have gone all out with this affair to make sure it's going to be a success. First thing to be spotted is a bonfire, so big that you might want to be careful not to trip around it, because you'll fall right in. There's plenty of room for dancing too, if you feel like grooving to a beat that's a little more unusual than most.

The Yule celebration shares a lot of similarities with Christmas, so it's a good time for gift giving. There's little shoes on a table, mimicking the tradition where Odin would leave presents for good children by putting them in their shoes. Claim one as your own and maybe a friend will leave a gift inside one for you. Watch it though. Any grinches will be fed to the Yule Cat.

There's a table set up to the right of the bonfire with food, mostly of the hearty kind that the Norse seem to prefer, and of course, lots of alcohol. Please remember not to get into any drinking contests with the gods. They will observe no responsibility for what happens afterward.

There are also mushrooms for consumption, provided by everyone's favorite psychotic Viking, Ivar The Boneless. These ones are directly from his home world, which means they come with a variety of side effects. They have the ability to make a person hallucinate quite a bit. But they can also make people much more horny than usual. Lastly, there's the effect that hits some people in making them extremely violent. Sometimes one effect hits, sometimes more than one. In any case, anyone who consumes some is assured to have an...interesting time.

On a lighter note, there's mistletoe scattered around, hung from the trees and tent beams. Fun fact: the Vikings were the first one to use it for the tradition of kissing. Of course, they also believed it was a plant that was powerful enough to kill a god, so the kissing was ostensibly for protection.

At the height of the night, there will be an animal sacrifice done. A goat is slaughtered and the blood from it is gathered into a couple of bowls. If you'd really like to go all out like a Viking, paint your face in the still-warm blood, or drink a little bit of it. Otherwise, enjoy freshly seared chunks of goat as it bastes over the bonfire.

Have fun, drink, fight, and remember to make your ancestors proud!

Comments

[northerndragon]

[He lets her pull him towards the fire.

He's never danced much, and it's been quite a while, but it's clear they won't have to work hard to acquit themselves well here.]

All right, I'll tell you a story of the Wall. The food was what we could get -- what the Northern Lords could send to us and what we could put together ourselves. And it was usually terrible. We had a cook who did what he can, and the Lord Commander's food is usually better, but still... Your first stew was much better than the average day's ration.

[He chuckles.]

And I could watch you cook it all day.

[jelmazmo]

( No, they really won't. She's never learned the proper styles of Westerosi dancing; but she's certainly spent years observing the lack of inhibition and attention to rhtyhm among the Dothraki dancers.

And these here are lacking in both. Comparatively, Dany feels much more confident. )

Were you still growing when you were first there? Your friends? ( She knows that struggle, truly. Her nose wrinkles, and she smiles at him. ) There's going to be further attempts. We had to worry where our next meal would come from often when I was a girl. Unless we were guests at some magister or lord or other's manse.

Neither of us are ever going to have to worry about that again.

( She moves to the beat of the drums, more gracefully than she'd have expected herself to. Over her shoulder, she grins at him. )

Would anything be cooked if I were watching you watching me? I never tire of looking at you.

[northerndragon]

I was seventeen, a man grown.

[He moves, surprisingly graceful for a man who would ordinarily prefer not to dance. But he's lithe, good with a sword, and it's not so different.]

Except for my beard. That took a while to come in.

[He knows she faced significant privation as a young girl, and it troubles him, and the truth is, there's a chance they will have to worry about it again... at home, in winter, or here, if Riverview ever suffers from famine or disease. This is a night for celebration, though, so he doesn't mention it.]

Nothing would be cooked if we were watching each other. That's why we've been eating so much chicken, love.

But with us always determined to feed each other, we might get by.

[He means that in the larger sense, as well as the more specific one related to this line of conversation.]

[jelmazmo]

I would've been sixteen then, just learning to ride a horse. Every part of me was sore for weeks from that.

( This is far too pleasant an occasion to mention being sold, or the rape that had comprised her wedding night. Or the better part of her marriage.

Instead, she gracefully comes back to him, tugging at his hand to follow her. )

Worth waiting for, though. I like your beard.

( When they've drawn closer to each other, she brushes the tip of her nose against it, sighing deeply. She doesn't mention a lack of food either. )

Mm, that's more than true enough. But I've been growing tired of it; I'll need to prepare meals in advance, then.

If we want to have the energy to keep watching each other and more, we'll find a way.

( Necessity being the motivation for invention, along with its mother. )