get ready everybody 'cause here we go

[dashing]

WHO: Saoirse, Herian & open.
WHAT: a combined birthday hangout.
WHEN: 30th Haring.
WHERE: The Hanged Man.
NOTES: Drink up now and turn up hungover to the Firstday feast. Open invitation over here, no need to reply to the network post or even have prior cr in order to attend. Please add any warnings to subject lines if they come up.

"Party" would be an extreme word for it; the more accurate word would be "casual gathering of people with liquor readily available." It is The Hanged Man, though, so who knows what shenanigans could unfold.

They've taken over a corner of the inn, and though there isn't much in the way of decorations - making sure the place could be easily accessed after all that snow was work enough - there are a couple of strings of bunting.

Don't get too wild; it'd be unfortunate if Herian had to interrupt her own (shared) birthday celebration in the sake of preserving the Inquisition's reputation. (Or do get wild, and simply shrug it off as The Hanged Man's influence. Whatever.)

Be sure of one thing, though - at least one round is one Herian. Maybe. If you're a close friend, or look particularly glum.

Comments

herian; a dramatic birthday girl

[dashing]

(if you want a custom one let me know, but otherwise wildcards are welcome)


early;
Guess who has two thumbs, is reaching their twenty-ninth year, and looks kind of unexcited about it?

It's not that she looks glum so much as she looks very serious and preoccupied; it could be before other guests have arrived, she did get there early to make sure everything was in order, or maybe others are there and she's just gone off into her own world. In either case, it might take something to get her attention.


later in the night;
Herian does not get drunk. She drinks very sparingly, in fact, as a general rule. Temperance, control, focus, all those good things. A knight should not act in excess, and they should not act in any way that compromises their honour. The problem is that refusing drinks could also be rude, and causing needless offence is also something she does not care for.

The end result is that she has had a little more to drink than she normally might, and is a little more relaxed. While she's not in an excellent mood generally, these past weeks, at least her manner has eased a little, for now.

Later

[circleprodigy]

And one more non-refusable drink is coming her way. Inessa, with a bottle of spiced wine and a couple of glasses in her free hand, heads over while Garahel is busy getting belly rubs from happy drunks. A smile curves her lips as her eyes meet Herian's, and she sits down, pouring some for them both.

"I hear we have a birthday in common, Knight-Enchanter. That's reason enough to share this with you; I might have forgotten my own, otherwise." The first glass poured is offered to Herian.

[dashing]

"For true? Many happy returns, Warden, early as they may be."

She accepts the glass, and holds it up very slightly in accompaniment to her words, before taking a sip.

"Thank you. Will you be doing anything in particular to celebrate the day, now you have been reminded? I most like would not, had Enchanter Ceallach not been so insistent."

[circleprodigy]

"You're quite welcome. Indeed, I'll be twenty-two." And then Inessa pauses and shrugs, a little sheepish. "Outside whatever Ciri will inevitably spring upon me, I doubt it. Events have kept me from making headway with my project this past month, but now I want to push forward once more. Besides, the day after First Day is usually one for nursing hangovers, is it not?" A wry smile surfaces. That's the 'trouble' of having a birthday directly afterward, when the larger holiday is over and most are in recovery-mode. She doesn't seem excessively bothered by that fact, though; a quiet birthday suits her just fine.

[dashing]

Twenty-two.

When Herian was twenty-two she was still in the White Spire, eagerly trying to prove herself. Her life had been an obsession with becoming the best Knight Enchanter that she could become for long before then, as well. And now she was a Knight Enchanter, but what had it done for the world, or the Chantry, or the Circles? That she would ever be the personal guard to the Divine seemed dubious at best, when they had gone so long without a Divine elected in the wake of the conclave. A life of dedication sometimes seeming eclipsed, when apostates could make claim to something that was years of work without any consideration of duty.

She takes another sip of wine.

“I am reaching nine-and-twenty. I must confess this is not where I imagined myself being now, when I was your age.”

[circleprodigy]

"Before the fall of my Circle, I was so certain that I would be an Enchanter by now. One more step on my way to perhaps becoming First Enchanter somewhere, someday."

At the very least, she would have joined the Aequitarians formally, instead of merely sympathizing with them. It had all been planned out, her future seemingly secure...only for the rug to be pulled out from beneath her feet. Suddenly, one path was cut off from her while endless other possibilities arose. Suddenly, she could follow in the footsteps of her childhood heroes...but that that had not quite turned out as she had thought it would, either.

Pausing, she takes a sip of her own wine, savoring the flavor. "And what life did you imagine for yourself, as a Knight-Enchanter?"

[dashing]

“Ambitious.” Impressive, to strive so far, though ambitious mages were not always looked on kindly.

She sips the wine again, enjoying the warmth of the spices on her tongue. Clove, she remembered, her uncle would keep for spiced wine, while her mother desperately tried to keep them for numbing sore mouths.

It is strange, abrupt association, but she sets the glass down gently. "I hoped to serve the Chantry and the people through it. I long believed knights had the opportunity of bettering the lands they were to protect, and I wished to play my part in that. Educating more Knight Enchanters, serving the will of the Divine."

A moment of pause; “I was considered unusually driven to make Enchanter when I did. Did you have a particular desire to teach your fellow mages?”

later

[crowncitizen]

"Having fun?" Prompto asks as he slides into a seat next to her. He's been an extroverted social butterfly, talking up a lot of people, but especially the (slightly older) birthday girl. But he hasn't gotten to talk to Herian quite as much tonight, and now he's here to remedy that.

[dashing]

She takes a moment to consider, though it is not really necessary, more a matter of habit and carefulness. “I am.” There is a moment where she lets the silence hang in the air before elaborating, “I am not generally much for such social affairs. Saoirse is, I fear, far better qualified in this realm than I - and you as well, I think.”

Social butterflies, man.

[crowncitizen]

"Yeah, she seems like she's in her element. With her personality, though, it's not really a surprise." He smiles as he glances in Saoirse's direction, his fondness clear. He turns back to Herian, adding, "They're not for everyone, though. Social situations, I mean. But as long as you're still having fun, that's what matters." Especially since they're celebrating her birthday. She and Saoirse deserve to have a fun night out.

[dashing]

“She has been capable of capturing a room since we were very small.”

There is not any indication of envy, there, only fondness. Saoirse could inspire the best of things in people. Herian might wish she could do that, but her methods were the knight’s code, duty, honour; she lacks Saoirse’s bright wit and smiles.

A moment of pause. I will not interfere, she had promised, or at least that she would not press matters, and she has no intention of breaking that promise. “That she thinks so well of you is praise indeed, Serah Argentum.”

Simple observation, that she would have made regardless of knowing Saoirse’s fondness. No promise broken.

[crowncitizen]

There's no denying in Prompto's mind that Herian and Saoirse definitely seem like great friends who are incredibly fond of each other. The way they speak of one another, how they interact, and how their relationship lasted over the years all speak to it. It reminds him of his friendship with Noctis, and a part of him desperately misses his best friend in that moment. But he's glad for both women that they have each other, especially in such uncertain times in their world.

"And she makes it look so easy." For all that he's an extrovert, Prompto doesn't command a presence like Saoirse does. He lived for too many years being a forced introvert.

His ears turn a little red at the compliment, complete with a bashful rub behind the back of his head. "I'm glad she does. It's hard not to like her and want her to like you. And you two have been friends since forever, right? You're practically sisters." The rest goes unsaid but implied: that says quite a lot more about Herian.

[dashing]

"We are. Even when we went to the Circle we were separated only by a matter of months." I am her senior there, she might have joked, though there is something of a thoughtful weight to her words now. There is an inhale of breath, followed by the inevitable exhale, that skirts about the edges of being a sigh. "I was much different when we were children. Prior to her joining the Inquisition, we'd not seen each other some twelve years."

That carries an implication as well; the person that Saoirse grew up with and befriended was not the same person she is now. Herian has certain doubts that Saoirse would look so fondly on her now, on what she has become, were it not for that shared childhood. A much used line of concern carves into her brow, much the way that paper falls into patterns where it has previously been folded, and then she shakes her head a little. It is self-indulgent, and self-pitying, at an event which should carry none of the latter, even if it is allowed a happier shade of the first.

"You've no need of such self-consciousness. Her regard for you is sincere, and I trust her judgment implicitly." Suffice to say, he's a good dude, so far as she's concerned. Not that she would ever use, or think, phrases like good dude.

early, because he wants to gift her in private

[tar_minyatur]

"Milady Herian?"

Elros sticks his head in the room to look around for her. He has a small parcel in one hand - no fancy paper, but neatly wrapped. He even managed to locate a ribbon. From. Somewhere.

[dashing]

“Good evening.” It is always something of a surprise when people seek her out. She has just finished putting up a string of bunting, and takes a step down from the chair she’s standing on to consider it. It is lopsided? She eyes it critically. Decorations are not her area of expertise. Most things, truthfully, are not; she is a creature of specific talents.

“It is very kind of you to attend. Can I offer you a drink?” She spies the gift - it’s not like he’s hiding it - and isn’t sure what to do about it. How do friendship, how to things.

[tar_minyatur]

He smiles and offers her the gift with a bow.

"It isn't much - but I thought, seeing as we recently went dragon-hunting together, that it would be terribly rude if I didn't attend! I would love a drink, but only if I don't inconvenience you too greatly."

PHEW sorry for the delay, just got home from work

[dashing]

That coaxes a smile from her, faint as it might be. That's just her way, really, faint smiles and control. "It is no inconvenience, I promise you. I would be very glad to become better acquainted, when you did the Inquisition so great a service."

Sure, they did great things to curry favour with King Markhus, only for the battle in the Necropolis to tear the Inquisition's reputation down to nothing again, but— they would do better. They must do better, if Thedas is to have any hope.

"You honour me, thank you." And, after a moment of looking slightly perplexed, "is it better manners in the custom of your people to open a gift immediately, or wait until a later time?"

No worries am slow myself!

[tar_minyatur]

"Up to you, I think?" Elros considered.

"When I grew up we didn't have much in terms of birthdays! And what gifts we had were usually not wrapped!"

[dashing]

She wonders, having learned a little more of his people, if that is because they live so long, that birthdays might become meaningless. On the other hand, asking something so forthright seems... impolite or intrusive.

"I confess myself curious," she admits, but first catches the barkeep's attention, even as she carefully starts to undo the ribbon. As she does so she asks, "do you prefer wine, ale?" Or those... other drinks... perhaps it is evident that she isn't much of a drinker, herself. "Spirits?"

early;

[foxsays]

Something of a stranger to the Hanged Man, it not being the sort of tavern Araceli prefers where it's a little too well-known, and with a curfew, Araceli still slips in with two gifts since she's not going to show up with something just for one person when it's a joint party. It'd be rude after all. Two years in Thedas, the start of what could very well be her third? This is an easier tradition to let go.

"Señora Amsel! Something for you and Enchanter Ceallach both," she greets with a smile when she arrives with a nudge that's this side of being overly friendly. "Just a little thing."

Pretty haircombs, some pins, a little fancy oil - Knight Enchanters and Enchanters both are deserving of some pampering no? (And yes, tiny tiny bottles of rum. Look it's the water of life for her, Starkhaveners should get that.)

[dashing]

Herian remains Herian, and bows politely when Araceli arrives, regardless of nudges. "You are very kind, thank you. I will make sure the Enchanter receives these."

Gifts, Herian isn't.. she wasn't expecting gifts. Gifts from several unanticipated gifters has left her a little taken aback, but in a largely positive way. There's a slight smile, surprised though it is.

And, actually— "Have you been introduced? I would be glad to do so, if you are not yet acquainted?"

[foxsays]

"One is for you, Herian, you deserve something after this year.". Herian hadn't shared where she'd been but it can't have been pleasant, not when it was time from the Inquisition. "The year ahead doesn't promise to be any easier for us all, a little kindness waiting? That never goes amiss."

Tucked away in some corner waiting for a terrible day or even just a particularly long one, a trying one. Same as the new flask, the hair ribbons, the chance to ride out of Kirkwall or to disappear beneath the water without the need to surface. Moments free of troubles.

"We spoke briefly," which means no, sending crystal chats don't count if they're public. Not if you put on a mask. "I'd love to meet her, I hear she's a talented musician?"

[dashing]

It isn't sheepishly that she looks back down at the gifts, but she does look back down at the gifts before nodding her understanding. Gifts are a strange thing to find herself with, truthfully, but it's not disagreeable at all. Simply... strange. "Thank you. We all of us... benefit from kindness, in such times."

Hardly a revelation, of course, but she's trying to articulate her gratitude.

And so: she sets the gifts somewhere safe, then returns her attention to Araceli. "I think she is dancing at the present moment, but I will make sure to introduce you." A moment, and she gestures to the bar, "would you like some wine?"

[foxsays]

How do you show you care? You give. You give without thought of receiving anything in return or that's how Araceli was brought up, even if she didn't have so very much (yes, far more comfortable than so many, someone who never wanted for things but certainly not a rich girl, not even middle class by anyone's standards.) "You're very hard on yourself; it's good to know that you have times when you have nice things or a smile. I've always liked you."

Even if she's still too polite to say Herian's first name until there's some sign, behold the two of them doomed to speak in forms of address until the end of time.

"Gracias, and yes - I've never had wine at the Hanged Man before. I don't think I've really been here at all - what's good?" In the tone of someone who doesn't really know wine beyond what won't ruin the meal she's serving but also really doesn't know wine please help her.

[dashing]

And, not for the first time this evening (or even in this conversation) Herian is speechless. Herian blinks a couple of times, looks away, as her mouth works soundlessly for a moment. "From necessity alone, I assure you. I am... I think it's important to hold ourselves accountable. I cannot... claim to be honourable unless I interrogate myself."

A little more quietly, that, but after a moment of hesitation she rests her hand on Araceli's forearm. "I have always thought well of you, as well."

They are very different, hold different views in much, but Araceli has always been kind to her without hesitation, and kindness is a greatly admirable trait, especially in those who have endured so much.

"I... am not well informed when it comes to wine," Herian admits, and exhales as she realises she is underqualified for this. "Do you prefer ale? Or... whiskey? I've an uncle who'd be greatly disappointed in my lack of expertise to offer you," she admits, exhaling a very quiet huff of laughter.