faderift | OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

WHO: All
WHAT: WINTER IS HERE
WHEN: Haring 15-Wintermarch 1
WHERE: The Gallows, Kirkwall
NOTES: You can use this post as an event-style mingle log, or just use it as background information for your RP elsewhere!

It's been a chilly month already, but in mid-Haring the temperature suddenly plummets. One day it's merely cold, and the next morning the Inquisition wakes to frost on the inside of the window panes and an icy draft whistling through every crack in the tower's masonry. Downstairs, the pipes that feed the bathing chambers and the kitchens creak in the walls, loud enough to be heard even out in the courtyard, where they run beneath the stones, and around midday, when the sun has failed to raise the temperature above freezing, a blocked pipe finally gives, cracking open to spill water across the central court and send it running down side passages. The whole area floods several inches deep and almost immediately begins to freeze, presenting at first a gigantic, treacherous slush puddle and, after a few hours, a sheet of sheer ice.

Melting a safe path from door to door and laying down sand or wood to keep it from becoming slick again is a simple enough undertaking, but before the entire courtyard can be thawed, someone appears with ice skates—and that’s a better idea, surely, for at least a few days. Anyone who complains about the frivolity can be assured it’s good exercise, not to mention good training for a force that may have to travel or fight on ice in the future.

Temperatures remain cold enough that even some parts of the harbor begin to freeze, first just at the calmest edges of the shoreline, and then the more protected nooks and crannies of the bay, inlets and the spaces between piers and beneath docks. It snows most days--not real storms, just a couple inches here and there--little enough for the window to blow most of it off the icy plain of the courtyard and other wide open, paved spaces, accumulating on branches and in alleyways, and creating growing drifts in corners and against walls.

After a week or so actual chunks of floating ice begin to fill the narrow channels of the harbor, threatening smaller and less-sturdy vessels, and the situation in the poorer parts of the city begins to grow dire. With the Viscount's blessing, Inquisition teams (particularly mages) are called in to help. Some are assigned to the docks, to clear ice that makes landing and unloading treacherous, others to help escort ships into harbor by melting a path ahead. Others are sent into Lowtown to clear ice and snow and to provide warmth and medical attention where needed. At least one mage is sent with each team, and while many neighborhoods are pleasantly surprised and grateful for the quick work fire glyphs make of cold hearths and frozen streets, a few are unable to overcome their distrust, and refuse the teams entry, determined to take care of their own without the help of dangerous outsiders.

In the last week of the year, a true blizzard strikes, snow falling steadily for more than a day, blanketing the city at least three feet deep. Digging out the Gallows will be a group effort, and most non-essential trips outside the base will be cancelled for a few days until travel is less difficult, while those who reside in the city or elsewhere may be encouraged to stay a night or two in the fortress so they might continue to work without traveling through the storm. But on the first day of Wintermarch the First Day feast goes on as planned, with modest but plentiful food and ale served in the Gallows' dining hall for anyone who wishes to celebrate the new year.

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....O h

Just when he thought he couldn't be more surprised, she manages to make him even more so. That's... wow. His brain kind of breaks again, though it's not in the same almost spinning panic from just before. Now he's more in awe than anything.

Saoirse's not the first girl he's had a crush on, though things have gone a bit beyond that as of late. He's gotten to know her better than Cindy or any of the others. But no matter how strong his feelings, he always, always carries the expectation that they're one-sided and would remain that way. His own lack of confidence held him back from ever sincerely making an attempt to try and see if things would go anywhere.

Now he's faced with Saoirse and something he never expected. Sure, wanting to kiss him and having feelings about him are two separate things, but it's still more than he ever expected. "Really?" He laughs, a mix of nerves and relief. "I just, I thought it was just me."

"Really and truly."

To be sure, it was quickly becoming a day full of surprises for her too.

Saoirse finds the silence worrying once more but thankfully it is not long before he speaks once more and she finds herself laughing equally in relief. How silly had she been to keep this inside for so long. From where she has been crouching, she slips down to sit in the snow and brings a hand to her face to steady herself or perhaps to once again try to hide her blush.

"So it seems we are both rather lacking strengths in this sort of endeavor but I'm happy. I'm really happy." She says with another breathless laugh of happiness.

Before he moves forward with anything, first things first: the damn mistletoe. He knocks it off, and while it lays stunned on the ground, he quickly stomps it, grinding it under his boot. While it leaves him in a slightly awkward sitting position, it at least deals with the sprig for the time being. Everything leading up to this moment has been awkward, thanks to Prompto's fumbling, but he's not about to let anything ruin it now.

With that out of the way, he shifts towards her, unable to hide his grin. His heart beats fast, spurred by anticipation and nerves. It really does feel like butterflies in his stomach; now he understands the phrase. "I guess not, if it took a mistletoe trying to eat me to get either one of us to do something." It'll make for an entertaining story, at least. "Still... I'm happy, too." Her laugh's a balm, soothing away some of his nerves. It's enough to embolden him to reach out and cup her cheek. "Knowing that I make you happy... ha, I'm not eloquent enough to find the right words, but I feel like the luckiest guy in the world right now."

Admittedly, as Prompto stomps on the mistletoe, she cannot help the grin on her face. Despite all of the annoyance it has wrought, she cannot help being grateful for the little sprig full of teeth and a tendency to bite at people's ankles. Her smile does not vanish as he shifts closer, holding her breath for just a moment before Saoirse finds herself chuckling again.

"Better it mistletoe trying to eat you than something else in Thedas." She says with her face burning as he cups her cheek but brings her own hand up, carefully covering his and leaning into his touch. It isn't ideal to be sitting her in the snow, spilling out all of their feeling but it is storylike almost. "Still... I'm glad for it and might just have to pen a letter of thanks to whomever might have charmed it."

Is she joking? Probably especially considering the way she smiles but even that is hard to tell with just how happy she is in the moment. Perhaps it's what urges her forward, squeezing his hand before releasing it to brush it along his cheek with a soft look and a warm smile. Her heart is drumming, hammering and flipping around in her chest but she doesn't allow herself the chance for second thought as she leans in close.

There is only the briefest moment of pause, their noses touching before she closes the distance between them and presses their lips together.

Saoirse makes some excellent points there. At least it wasn't a dragon trying to eat him, true, and it... did all kind of work out for the best. Though really, did the darn mistletoe have to like, try and eat his shins? Couldn't they just screech a lot or something? Luckily he at least has enough sense and tact to not voice his complaints as per usual. Instead, he manages a chuckle. He'd talk, but there's a part of him that fears his voice cracking if he does, and he's already made a fool of himself enough.

He's almost shaking, he's so nervous, but he wants this and... it's a kiss. Sure, it's his first and it's a big deal, but it's really not that hard, right? And it's Saoirse. Kind and sweet, understanding but with levity and grace. By the Six, how did he get so lucky?

He watches her, throat going dry and breathing quickening as she draws close. For a moment, he swears time stops, the whole world slowing to a crawl as their noses and foreheads touch. It's brief, realistically, but it feels almost like an eternity before they finally come together.

Her lips are so soft. It's so wonderful and his mind spins in all sorts of directions, dizzy from the reality of this. The hand on her cheek moves to the back of her head, fingers threading carefully through her hair. There's so much he's unsure of - if he's doing this okay, what he does next, and so on, but he decides the best thing to do is keep it simple. He pulls back just a fraction after a long moment, cheeks still flushed but wearing a pleased smile. "That was, um..." Why does he suck at words. "Could we do that again?"

Nailed it.

Simple, she decides, is good. Better, perhaps but Saoirse thinks everything is fine now that her feelings are out in the open and she knows that Prompto feels the same. In truth, she is surprised that her heart has not burst out of her chest but it helps when she considers just how much she likes kissing him. He's unsure but sweet and there is something she loves about the feeling of his fingers in her hair.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's aware that the cold snow is starting to melt and wet her robes where she sits on her knees but it is hard to care. Especially when he smiles at her like that, pleased and asking such a ridiculously cute question.

It's hard not to laugh but she answer with another kiss, slightly deeper but still soft before she pulls back just enough to speak. "As many times as you want," she says with a pleased smile. "If that sounds good to you."

Edited 2018-01-03 04:45 (UTC)

Oh, he truly and dearly likes this. The next kiss already comes with less racking of nerves on his part. He's still a little unsure, but as earnest as ever. It's almost disappointing when she pulls back, but he can't complain. Not when he gets to see her smile like that. "As many as I want?" He moves his legs so he can shift closer to her, nose brushing against hers. "You sure about that? I could probably do this an awful lot."

Before he can take her up on that offer, an annoyed squeak draws attention to its source. With its mission complete, the damnable mistletoe upends itself from the ground and trots off, a bit smooshed but otherwise seemingly unharmed. Prompto huffs out a laugh as it wanders off. "You were right." It just wanted to make people kiss. It'd be cute, if the damned thing wasn't so awful about the whole matter.

...and now that his attention's been pulled from Saoirse for a second, he now remembers they're sitting in the damn snow. He can't feel his butt anymore. "Um, we should... probably maybe continue this somewhere warmer, huh?"

Again, she chuckles and enjoying the sensation of their closeness. It was something she could get used to, leaning in to prove just that but finds herself as distracted by the annoyed squeak. Here Saoirse had just spoke nicely of it but now, somewhere in the back of her mind, she considers actually lighting the thing on fire.

"I'm sure I would have been happy being wrong too," she says with a grin and shrug of her shoulders. "Good thing we went straight to this instead of trying something else."

Another small grin before she shifts, feeling the numbness of her legs and unable to help agreeing with Prompto's words. Romantic and storylike, sure but there were disadvantages to kissing in the snow. And so, with some sadness, she moves to stand and dust away at the flurries that have matted to the skirt of her robes.

"Hmm... Well, I do have a nice room with a lovely roaring fire."

Funnily enough, he was considering throwing a snowball at the thing, but her earlier defense of it made him stay his hand. Ah well, the little scamp lives to bite and demand kissing for another day.

"Yeah, definitely. Not that you're not a great mage, but uh, feel like open flame near my skin's one of those absolute dead last resort kind of scenarios." And kissing is so much more fun anyway.

As he gets up and starts to brush himself off as well, he nearly topples over at Saoirse's suggestion. Alone with her, in her room? Yes please holy shit. It almost seems too good to be true, or a dream. Luckily, the pang of cold that shoots up his leg from the time spent on the snow grounds him and assures him that, no, this is quite real. "You know, that sounds literally perfect right about now."

"Then perhaps I'll need work on my ice magic least some other sort of plant life that cannot be driven away with kissing appears."

Though kissing certainly is so, so much more better.

And it's a good thing he doesn't topple either since Saoirse reaches out to take his hand, tugging him closer with another pleased smile. Thankfully the walk to the old mages' tower is not too far from here and certainly better than some other alternative place to continue.

"Two out of three good ideas are not a bad way to start the day," she says. "I just moved back into the Gallows, to be honest. I used to live at the barracks on the docks which left little in the way of privacy."

...you know what, he'll take frostbite over a burn. He can probably bounce back easier from frostbite, right? "Prrrrobably the safest best. I mean there's always lightning, but as someone who's gotten zapped before" THANKS FOR THAT ONE, NOCTIS "it's really not fun at all." Being cold and all sucks, but at least it doesn't wreak havoc on your nervous system.

Prompto follows along like an obedient puppy, trying to keep his cool and not internally go SQUEE over being able to hold her hand. A faint blush still remains in his cheeks, but otherwise he manages to not look like a total idiot as he walks alongside of her.

"Yeah, I saw those when we first got here. The Gallows can be kind of unsettling, but at least the rooms had a bit more space and privacy." Though as he says that, he remembers Saoirse used to live here before the Circle fell. Immediately he feels like a jerk. "...ah, sorry. Didn't mean to come across that insensitive." Way to go. "You doing okay being back in them?"

"... It is a good time to mention then that storm magic is my specialty when it comes to primal magic?" She says, verging on laughter. "Do not fear though, I be sure to direct my magic away from you if we ever find ourselves sharing a battlefield."

Admittedly, Saoirse is rather happy herself as she holds his hand close to her. It feels a little like she's floating but she wonders if that is partly because she got so cold outside. Thankfully she can already feel a difference being indoors and simply protected from the winds.

"I have good days and I have bad days," she says with a tired sound. "But I'm getting better with being in these halls again. I cannot allow myself be chained to the past though I can remember it and make sure it is not repeated. I want this place to be a home for me."

She's grateful that her room is not a long walk since it helps to drive away any of the sadness that might appear when discussing such sensitive subjects. For once, in a what feels like a very long time, she selfishly wants something and to forget the sadness that has followed her around since the Circles fell. Although she continues to hold his hand, her other comes to rest on the handle and glances upward nervously.

"I'm still arranging things so please, forgive the mess." Which is clearly most important now that she has decided that she is most definitely bringing a boy to her room because she likes him and deeply wishes to keep kissing him. Her room, meanwhile, clearly has taken tones from her childhood home in Starkhaven. It is arranged in a homely manner, rugs and furs helping to keep the warmth in while a carefully tended fire continues to burn. Books line the walls, stacked here and there while plants are clearly the second most important feature visible. It is, most simply, as warm as it's owner.

"...riiiiiight. Entropy and storm." Hex 'em and then zap 'em. Sounds pretty effective to him. "Ha. Thanks. If I never get zapped again, it'd be too soon. Though as long as Noct isn't around I should be fine." Yep, he's certain he's less likely to get zapped by an enemy mage then his best friend. He loves Noct, really, but damn...

He squeezes her hand gently. It's got to be hard for her, coming back here after all that happened. One day, when he goes back to Insomnia, it'll probably be a similar experience. How he'll find that strength, he doesn't know, but at least he knows how much it must be taking to step back into this place and try and start over. It's something else to admire about her, really. "That's the best thing you can do. And if it gets to be too much, you can always stroll right out into the city to get away for a little while."

His heart rate spikes a bit as her hand hovers over the door handle. At 21 years old, this is the first time he's gone into a girl's room, alone. And it feels so childish and silly to be worked up over it, and yet, here he stands, nerves racked. So much that he almost misses with Saoirse says; luckily he catches enough of it to get the gist. They're inside before he can say anything, though he already suspected there was nothing to worry about.

"It looks great!" he assures her as he steps in, looking around. It very much reminds him of her father's home in Starkhaven. Immediately he feels cozy and warm. "Few more years and you'll totally give your dad a run for his money in the number of books owned," he teases with a grin.

There is a short chuckle as Prompto mentions her magical talents when it came to the battlefield. More often than not, it could work out in her favor since more than one person has looked at her and written her off as simply holding talent in Creation magic and nothing more. Still, she simply nods at the mention of walking away from it all if it were to become too much. That would be for the best, right?

With a swallow, she squeezes his hand slightly and notes her own racked nerves flaring up. She has been so brave until this moment, perhaps worried that without the mistletoe biting until flesh that he might come to senses or have second thoughts. Saoirse is thankful when he speaks, smiling bashfully and glancing away to hide the flush of red to her cheeks.

"You're nice but I very much doubt will ever be possible even if I were to live five lifetimes." She says with a laugh. "Still, I am... happy that you like it."

Honestly it's probably for the best she can't catch up. Books are great, but surely that many is like, a huge fire hazard or something. And a falling hazard. "Well, okay, probably true. Maaaaybe half of what he has then?" That sounds slightly more reasonable.

As he watches her and listens, seeing the way she blushes and the shyness evident, he realizes that she's just as nervous as he is. Honestly, he's hugely relieved. His inexperience in this makes him unsteady and unsure, and while she doesn't know how experienced she is, at least he's not the only nervous one and that does wonders for him.

"Well, yeah, of course I do," he says, stepping towards her until they're practically touching. "It's your place. Why wouldn't I like it?" Let's be real, it could be bare and he'd still love it. Tentatively, he reaches for her hands to hold them in his.

"I am happy you believe such a miracle possible, Prompto." Only slightly more reasonable but it was a nice thought. A little something that connected her and her father even when separated for long periods of time.

Again, Saoirse can feel her heart racing as she looks over to him as he approaches. It is not so unusual, she has been with one other before shortly after the Circles fell in an intimate moment like this but it had ended so tragically that she doubted herself capable of love or being loved. An elf, an mage... so many things that people in this world seemed to hate.

Yet here was someone that she cared for deeply and she cannot help herself, allowing him to hold her hands and taking in the closeness. "You asked me if I was sure before when I told you how I felt but I must ask... are you sure of this too?"

"What can I say, I like to be optimistic." Understatement of the century there, but hey.

One step at a time. He's taking this by inches, seeing what she's comfortable with before moving a bit further. As he holds her hands - feeling stupidly giddy the entire time - he's contemplating pulling her in for an embrace when her question's asked. That stops his idea dead in its still formulating tracks. By the Six, that question has him taken aback. Of course he's sure. Why would he-

...oh.

"Yeah, I am." Of course her being an elf or mage isn't lost on him. It's not something he actively thinks about, because it doesn't make a difference to him, but he does realize that it's something to keep in mind, especially out in public. Being a rifter though, it's not like he isn't already half ostracized by the city already. "Absolutely."

Absolutely, he says. He really is just so terribly optimistic. It makes her heart swell, face flushed and fighting to find words that could work in this moment. Instead she looks up at him, blushing but smiling warmly and fighting the urge to throw her arms around him.

"Absolutely," she repeats. "I absolutely wish for this too."

His head spins, giddy and excited and taken aback and just... so much all at once. All good, enough to make him feel like he could burst. This isn't something he ever thought he'd have, not really. Sure, he flirted a bit back home and styled himself as such, but it was all in the expectation that it likely wouldn't get anywhere. Yet somehow, in a whole different world, he's found Saoirse. Lovely and kind, and beautiful to boot, and she chose him, of all people.

Really, what is there to say? He's not great with words anyhow, so he opts for another way to express everything swirling around in him. He leans down and captures her lips with his, earnest and happy.

( ooc: good place to stop? )

It had been a long, long time since she had last felt this way. There was just so many people out there to help but selfishly Saoirse cannot deny how happy these moments alone have made her. Just how much she wants to forget the world outside of her room, even if it was for just a moment.

That is why, when he kisses her, there is only the briefest of pauses before she lifts up on her toes to return the kiss. This is what she wants, this is what makes her happy and she doesn't want to miss out on another moment of it.

((OOC: yes! lots of smooching was had, etc etc etc, fin and done))

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OPEN ↠ HARING EVENT

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