[ OPEN ] Tonight I'm gonna have myself a real good time

[ombranera]

WHO: Zevran and YOU
WHAT: Zevran's Birthday and Ardent Blossom Contest
WHEN: Forward dated to Guardian 5
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Shenanigans connected to this announcement

Someone had been a sneaky little shit, preying on Zevran's lack of familiarity with traditions and dates and the weight people tend to put on something so mundane as a 'birthday'. Someone (Alistair) had spread word and made a thing of it, despite Zevran not seeing the point nor truly wishing to cause a fuss. He had, however, decided to take a day for himself to do nothing. No fuss, no stress, no real work. A day to indulge in a few of his many hobbies. He did not know what one did on their birthday normally but here he was, sitting in the Courtyard with one of his found spoils on his head, awaiting those that paid mind to his earlier announcement. When he wasn't idly sketching whoever he saw in the courtyard he was in the Herald's rest, enjoying a quiet drink and making notes on the better stories or songs he has heard throughout the day.

Comments

[foxsays]

A crown of flowers isn't Araceli's style but a friend is a friend, and Zevran a better friend than most, so she'd be looking for him anyway, not bothering to wrap her gift because wrapping a bottle is a stupid exercise in the first place, isn't it?

Footsteps near-silent, she takes a seat beside him to enjoy being outdoors without having to wrap herself up in as many layers as she did in Emprise du Lion, face tipped up for a moment before she hands over the bottle.

"I can't do what we would usually do on a birthday in Castileos except give a gift," she explains, handing the bottle over with a smile. It's good rum, flavoured with fruits and spices after she got into something of a haggling war with the merchant. "This bit is about as traditional as I can get here."

[ombranera]

As she comes up alongside she'll notice the careful lines sketched into the journal in his lap- Alistair with a practice sword, laughing, Korrin perched on the ramparts, Keiran half formed in slow swipes of charcoal and careful lines as he plays with a warden figurine. Little things he has not taken the time to put to paper so he would not forget.

He is just beginning the first few feathers in a Crow's wing when she settles at his side- and rather than look up or shift to accommodate he leans into her easily while continuing the careful, delicate lines on paper. "I do wonder, what is it one does on their birthday in Castileos?"

The pen is set down in favor of the bottle- his smile going wide and warm. He knows the brand, it is as familiar to him as his own heart- and hard to find this far south.

[foxsays]

So she’s not the only one to sit and draw, though her own doodles are notes for parkour lessons, scribbles in the margins of the notes she makes for her fellow rifters, pistols and tentative weapon designs but she smiles at the boy, not someone she’s spoken to but Lux has gone up to him as he goes up to most everyone.

Life here has a routine, and she’s content to watch him, sweeping her hair off one shoulder so it doesn’t get in his way. So like free time in the guards when she takes the others out to her favourite places, or lazing around the palace grounds when Leandra doesn’t require all of them. “We always give rum,” she begins.

“Rum is life - you know how water is on a ship. Gifts are given often enough and when you’re young, you get gifts for the future - maps, books, a compass and navigation tools and so on. When you can drink though your friends take you out and you try to buy a round but they howl you down, pinning you in so you can’t escape the table, taking your coin for safekeeping. Life is to be lived. We go to the sea too, stripping off naked and wading out up to our necks before we swim, then you take a deep breath and go under, just to listen to your heart in your ears and remember what it was like once before you burst to the surface when your lungs might burst. It’s being born again, I suppose, remembering that you swim first. Starting another year of your life fresh.”

Obviously that part can’t be done here in Skyhold but she can give him rum and wish him good health all the same.

[ombranera]

"If only we were in Antiva- or anywhere with water that would be warm this time of year." He tipped his cheek to rest against her shoulder, sighing. How he aches for home, and how he knows it is not safe for him to return. Having fellows like Araceli makes it easier to bear being out in the cold, far from the sand and the sea. As though the warmth of her skin could make up for the lack of Antiva's own sun. "There are the hot springs, but they are never empty long enough for such things."

[foxsays]

The temptation to braid his hair properly is almost too much to resist, when it shines the same as Rajani’s though soft and straight where hers curls. She hums quietly in agreement, because speaking of home hurts, she knows that because after describing the sea to someone who had never seen it on First Day? It almost broke her heart. “Korrin tried to tempt me with them but I can imagine how crowded they are here, honestly it’s as tempting to sneak off to the Storm Coast as it is to head to Orlais to have a real look at what a big city here is like. Sand between my toes, the wind in my hair, someone having to drag me out of the spray all naked and slippery.”

Probably Korrin because it’s doubtful other people would manage to catch her when she’s got an advantage in the water.

“What do they do in Antiva for birthdays? If that doesn’t make you too homesick to answer, you don’t need to if it does, we can speak of other things.”

[ombranera]

"Well it depends upon the person. Nobles have grand balls and dinners, masquerades not unlike carnivale during Satinalia, the more modest houses have dinners and gifts and smaller dances. The peasants? Scrape coin together to get the lucky man or woman a birthday whore." Or at least that is what he saw most often, living in a Brothel.

"One day, Araceli, I shall take you to Antiva. And you will weep for the warmth and beauty of my country." Or for other reasons, but he does not yet know them.

[foxsays]

"Nobles just want to try to one-up each other with tinier and tinier morsels of food that still would cost more than everything needed to make enough soup for a week. At least in the guards when the rest are so far from home it's just their favourite dinner cooked by the palace and spending time off-duty." There are always attempts to do whatever they'd do themselves but usually the dinner is enough, a night of them all lazing around in the baths then piling into the one room. "I'd rather go to the brothel, whores know how to throw proper parties."

Or every single one she knows does, what luck to have another friend who knows what it was like to be around them, at least for a time.

"Would you show me all of your favourite haunts?" She turns just enough to face him, smile bright. "Where the most beautiful whores are? The tavern with the most generous measures? And to the Rialto Bay?"

[ombranera]

"I would indeed. To the rooftops, the bays, the secret beaches where we might dive in only our skins, where to find the most lovely pearls and all the best food. Why, I'd take you to the tannery to pick out your own Antivan Leather boots, fit just for you. Such exquisite things they can be. You could get them in the usual style, up to the calf- or how Isabela prefers hers, all the way up to your thigh." All the better to hide daggers and other such things. But for now he turned to mirror her smile, reaching out to twirl a curl of her hair around his finger.

"You should see it in the moonlight, my friend. It shimmers like a gem. No city, no country in Thedas can compare."

[foxsays]

"You know that finding pearls has two meanings where I come from, I myself am very adept at it," she says conversationally, waggling her eyebrows enough to make her look ridiculous. "New boots will be an issue soon, the options here are too plain and I need a certain fit for climbing though I don't wish for my own to become worn out. Calf works better than thigh, they'd cut too deep for the long jumps and I have short enough legs as it is, long boots don't look long enough on me."

Normally she has few real complaints about how she looks but sometimes it would be nice to not have to climb to reach the high shelves.

"With music spilling out into the night air? A place that is just as alive at night as it is by day is always the best sort of place, then you know it truly lives because a heart never stops beating."