[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

After

[circleprodigy]

The ale fairy is paying a visit, with her canine companion in tow. Said companion isn't quite as energetic as usual, having overstuffed himself somewhat. (And yet, he'll be starving minutes later, just watch.) Inessa approaches with a cup in each hand, one for herself, and tsks as she notes the state of the bust.

"That poor dress, sacrificed for an admittedly impressive performance. I hope all this was worth it?"

[byblow]

He almost makes it worse: he reaches down with a hand that's sticky with the same honey glaze currently on the dress, catches himself just in time, and swaps hands to take the ale with his sticky hand and lift the skirt with his clean one.

Beneath the lifted skirt, he wiggles his feet. Said feet have new boots. His old ones were scuffed and thinned, repaired several times over, and incurably smelly.

"I think Teren can take it back in for Kaisa," he says. Cleaned, brought in around the waist again--"all is not lost."

[circleprodigy]

Those new boots have Inessa raising her eyebrows and she nods, impressed. "Very nice. Those should serve you well, I'd think. Just don't show Garahel what you did with the old ones, he seems to love smelly boots for some unfathomable reason." The mabari just wags his tail and sniffs at Alistair's new pair but doesn't seem as impressed with them as the old ones.

"This isn't a Warden birthday tradition around here, is it? It was entertaining, but I believe I can pass when my own rolls around."

[byblow]

Alistair laughs, shortly, and shakes his head. "We'll spare you," he says. He's never made much of his birthdays--or let anyone else, since he's spent most of them since his childhood in the Deep Roads with only a handful of other people who may or may not have known him before that mission--but being stationary and surrounded by people allows for excess. If excess is wanted.

He nudges his toe against Garahel's nose. The dog can have his old boots, probably, if he remembers to offer later. If that wouldn't be encouraging bad habits.

"When is yours? I'll make sure there aren't any coincidental carnivals either."

[circleprodigy]

Inessa would sigh, but probably let Garahel have his way as long as those boots never enter her living space. She remembers well that the stinky-boot smell never really comes out. At any rate, she's never fussed about her birthday before, or even mentioned it beyond joking.

"That might be difficult, as it's the day after First Day. At least there's a good chance everyone will be too hungover to do more than decorate the ground around that time, and I'm not above being the beer fairy again." She crosses her fingers; counting on excessive alcohol consumption has never let her down before.