[Open] I don't think you're ready for this jelly

[justice_is_blond]

WHO: Alistair and Anders and YOU
WHAT: Alistair tightropes. In a dress. While singing.
WHEN: Kingsway 21st
WHERE: Camp Shady Fucker
NOTES: There will probably be some awful sap because this is Nate's birthday, you've been warned. Otherwise, no warnings anticipated.

It's not publicized, but word has a habit of getting out.

Zevran has publicized matters, and now it's time for some morale boosting. There's a low tightrope stretched between two trees with a great many chairs, stumps, and logs set up as seating options. Today is the day for someone to earn himself new boots, shirts, and a shield, and it promises to be a show.

Come on up, pull up a seat, and enjoy the entertainment.

Comments

sketches

[arlathvhen]

Beleth is, visibly, a little nervous about approaching Zevran. Maybe more than a little. But the potential of what he's offering is enough to make her decide that it's worth it, and suffer through the nerves. There is, at least, an attempt at playing it cool as she walks over to Zevran, fingers fidgeting with some loose threads in her scarf.

"Hey. Can I get one of the sketches? Of, um." She pretends that she hasn't already spent five minutes pondering it. "Sitting, I guess. Falling seems like a bad omen."

[ombranera]

"That will be two silvers." He taps the box with a slot for coins he's using as a means of accepting payment. All the same he flicks to a fresh page and motions for Beleth to sit. Her nerves are noted, but go unremarked upon. There is more to this than he can see but he will not poke at it. Not yet. "Leaning against one another, his arm about your shoulders...?"

[arlathvhen]

She fishes the two coins out of her pocket and drops them into the box without a fuss, sitting where indicated. There's nothing going on here, Zevran!! Just friends being friendly. Because. Friendship. She does, however, pause at Zevran's question, and it takes all her skill to not look like a total idiot when she quickly nods. "Yes, that sounds fine."

Then, because she has to say something else, has to make this a perfectly normal conversation, she glances at him again. "The Wardens should throw more...festivals, I guess? Whatever this is, with rotating main entertainment. We could get more real buildings." Maybe even one she's allowed to live in! But she bring it up. Living in a tent in the Warden Camp is still better than sleeping in the nooks and crannies of Skyhold, and still being afraid someone might drag you out of bed.

[ombranera]

Mhmm. Nothing going on at all. Zevran quirks a brow but begins roughing out the shapes all the same- broad curves for Alistair, smaller, slimmer angles and lines for Beleth. He knows both of their faces and postures well enough for it to seem natural and it will not take long, truly, for him to finish.

"A dare or wager of some sort for Nathaniel's birthday, I think. It was not meant to be so great a production but me? I have a nose for profits and housing the Wardens is not cheaply done. Not with as much as they eat." And the expansions he means to have done before winter. "I hope this will raise enough for the next floor of the Guild house, truly."

[arlathvhen]

Beleth stays still while he draws, despite the urge to nervously fidget, and peer over to look at the drawing while he works. That, she knows, from her brother's drawings, is generally irritating to artists.

"Nathaniel? Alistair and him don't even get along. Alistair mentioned something to do with killing Nathaniel's father, which, I mean. I can see how that would cause a division." She hums thoughtfully, nodding along with Zevran's explanation. Another expansion for the Guild house--not something she could use, then. Which was...fair enough, it was Zevran and the Kestrels earning the money.

"...I need to look into trying to raise money." She muses, kicking her legs absent-mindedly. "And get a little...hut, maybe? I don't need a lot of room. But I'd have to hire the labor, too." She's a skinny noodle elf who's like 90% limbs, the heavy lifting of building is not for her. Maybe she can make Cade do it. "I dealt with trading for the clan, it shouldn't be too hard. Maybe if I sell some of the halla antlers I have...?" Now she's more muttering to herself than Zevran, expression thoughtful as she contemplates it. She's not even sure what a building would cost, but it can't be that bad. It's just a bunch of logs stacked together, right?

[ombranera]

"I do not think he knew it was for Nathaniel's birthday at the time he made the joke. I did not know it was to be for the same when I offered to throw in, not truly." He might not have otherwise. Boots for Alistair are one thing, him acting a fool? One thing. Him doing so on behalf of someone he truly does not care for? Something else entirely. That sharper glint to Alistair's smile made more sense knowing he had been played for a fool. Some small part of him disapproves. The rest simply makes certain that he makes it up to Alistair later.

He'd been under the impression that he'd been onboard entirely. More the fool him. "Arl Howe, yes. Jonas, technically, slew him. And Jonas is held in High regard to Nathaniel. Alistair is unapologetic having seen the things Arl Howe did, not limited to hiring me to kill Jonas and his merry band, and that, perhaps, rankles."

He honestly has not said much of anything one way or the other, and Nathaniel seems to not expect it of him or doesn't mind it. Who knows? "You could speak to Merrill, see what she did in order to build her aravel."

[arlathvhen]

Beleth nods along as Zevran expounds on both the event, and some of the backstory regarding Alistair and Nathaniel. Her knowledge of the events of that year where Jonas Cousland and his merry band of misfits defeated the Blight was...better, than it had been. Befriending three of that merry band was incentive to try learning about it. But the details were still sketchy, and she likes having a better idea of what happened.

Her eyes flick up as Zevran shows some signs of disapproval, and there's a sharp glint in her eye, a disapproving set to her mouth that says that she isn't any more happy about the situation. Well, she's not above taking advantage of it a little, but--that has nothing to do with making fun of Alistair. "Does he want Alistair to have disapproved of killing a terrible man? Just because he's his father--" But it doesn't do to talk ill of people (humans, noble humans) in public, and Beleth forcefully closes her mouth, glancing around to make sure she was not overheard.

"...Anyway," She continues, once she's sure that angry humans aren't going to flock down to have at her, "I hope that those boots are sufficiently impressive. I think you're right about talking to Merrill. I'd have just offered to go half and half on a building with her, but she's with some human or another." A little vague handwave. Ew, humans. Gross!!

[ombranera]

"Old wounds and hurts best left ignored. The end result is this: They will never get along. At least Alistair is able to get some amusement out of their disagreement. Normally." This time it seems a little less, but Zevran will fix things. Later. Right now there is coin to be made and work to be done. He finishes out the rough blocking and begins with the details, Beleth with her smile, Alistair with his hair and nose.

It is a terribly distinct nose, he's sketched it plenty of times, both for comedic effect and genuine portraiture. Little by little it comes together. Casual and companionable, Alistair gesturing with a hand (like he does) and occupied with the same, the sling of his arm and slump of his shoulders, Beleth listening attentively. Easy enough to imagine, she's done it plenty.

"And humans are such distasteful things? Are we reaching back into desire versus duty again, because I think we covered my opinion on that well enough at least once before." Easy to discount duty when one doesn't truly have one- save for that he owes to his son and family, even then? These are new things to him. "She seems quite taken with him- and he is now absent from what I understand."

[arlathvhen]

"It's Nathaniel's loss," She decides, mouth set. It might not be fair to Nathaniel, really. Beleth is terribly bias, both towards Alistair, and against the strange attachment some people held towards their fathers, no matter what they did. It just unpleasantly reminds her of her own father's death, and that cold apathy that sank into her. Her opinions were, suffice to say, heavily weighed against Nate, without even really knowing him.

"It's not just the whole duty thing. I mean...some are alright, I suppose." She says like she hasn't been making googley eyes at a wide variety of humans since she arrived at Skyhold. "Malcolm is pretty nice, overall, she could do worse. He did call you Alistair's wife," She informs him with a casual air, knowing by now neither of them are terribly bothered by this anymore. "But she does seem fond of him. Which is why we can't room together. He'll be back eventually and sharing a room with a couple would be insufferable."

Zevran and Alistair notwithstanding, naturally.

[ombranera]

"I am hardly the wife, more the owner of a particularly large, troublesome ginger mabari." With a little less fur and a little more bite than usual. Still, the comparison wrings out a half smile. "Good. I would hate to have to kill him. It might make Merrill upset with me and then the sighing an the frowning and the eyes."

Everyone has such eyes to give him when they are upset or disappointed. AT this point it's more vaguely irritating than guilt inducing-

Except with Merrill.

And Alistair.

And Mia.

Perhaps he cares more than he lets on. Mm. "I am certain she'd be happy to assist you build your own. She is helpful, like that."

[arlathvhen]

Beleth opens her mouth to say that she thinks he's more auburn than anything, muses on that statement for a moment, then closes her mouth again. That's a little much. Instead, she thinks for another moment, and shrugs. "I'm fairly sure that if he did anything that would require him being killed, Merrill would be able to do it herself. But, I know she'd appreciate the sentiment." That's not even Beleth joking around, she's pretty sure that Merrill would appreciate Zevran offering to kill someone for her.

She nods at his suggestion. "She could always use magic to help. I could probably get some others..." She does happen to know a decent handful of mages that she is probably in good enough graces with the press into service. She'd have to recompense them somehow, because that's just polite. But that's a thought for another time.

"...Are boots really that expensive?" The only pair she has was a gift from Zevran himself, after all, and now she has to worry. Did he spend a lot of money on her? Should she have been even more grateful than she was?? Should she write a belated thank you note???

[ombranera]

"It depends upon the boots." Zevran begins laying in the finer details, the sweep of Beleth's hair, the tuft of Alistair's. "Leather boots from Antiva last quite awhile in the South, meant to be worn upon ships and hard tile alike. The longer something is meant to last, the better it is made? The more costly the boot. Most boots of Orlais are overpriced despite having only half decent leather- overstitching and embellishments in the shaft and along the toe are meant to make the price worthwhile. Sturdy Fereldan boots do not cost much if only due to an abundance of leather- and the fact that the soles wear through within a few years of walking."

"Yours-" He knows where it is her mind has gone "Were a gift. Think not of the cost or of favors owed. You gave your thanks when I offered them to you and have worn them well. That is all that I require."