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

[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.

[crowncitizen]

A dozen years. That's... yeah, that's a long time to not see each other. He picks up a bit on her thoughts; something in the almost sigh and the way her brow creases tips him off that something troubles her, or at least weighs on her. They're not familiar enough with each other for him to want to pry. Besides, he understands that some things are just difficult to talk about. He won't push. "Twelve years would change most people, to be fair. And I know the Circles weren't the easiest places to live either. But at least you have each other here and now, right?" Ever the optimist.

Prompto would probably shit his small clothes in delight if he ever heard her utter that phrase, if he's being perfectly honest. Maybe that can be his mission with her: to see how many Eos-based colloquial phrases he can get her to use. But to focus on present topics: "You're gonna make me blush. I think my ears are already red, too." Gosh darn it, why does he have to be a blusher? "But thanks. I like you guys, too. Being away from home for so long's rough sometimes, but it's a lot easier with friends to get through it."

[dashing]

Not the easiest place to live. Her jaw clenches and unclenches, an easy thing to miss, but certainly perceptible. “The Circles gave me much. I will not dispute those who say they endured great wrongs in the Circles - I can well believe that power and authority was turned against those it was intended to protect.” Because that is what the Circles were for: they were meant to protect mages, just as much as the people beyond their walls. “For myself, though, the Circles gave me much that I would never have otherwise had.” Education, reliable meals, new clothes on her back, a place to sleep not eternally haunted by damp. How much, though, had she been blind to? Had she been so focused on her own ambition that she missed atrocities unfolding within the White Spire, even with what information mages were privy to?

She shakes her head a little, and rolls her shoulders. "I apologise. This is... likely not appropriate conversation for such a gathering as this."

[crowncitizen]

Prompto's really only heard the more extreme views of the Circles. Let's face it, Anders isn't the most unbiased source of information about them. But yes, this isn't a conversation for a birthday party, and he feels bad for even mentioning. "Sorry about that. Uh..." Topic change, please, for the love of the Six. She's tense and he feels awkward and...

"Oh! I didn't give you your gift yet, did I?"

[dashing]

"A gift?"

It's surprise enough that she is genuinely caught off guard, and she gladly moves with the distraction and the change in topic.

"You are very generous, but I promise you, there— was no need."

[crowncitizen]

"Gifts aren't ever about need! Hang on one sec!" He gestures for her to wait a moment as he slides off his seat and goes over to where his coat is. From the bowels of his coat and other assorted garments worn on the way here to combat the cold, he pulls out something wrapped in thin fabric. Thedas lacks wrapping paper, which makes Prompto kind of sad.

"Here you go!" He hands the package to her. Inside is a lovely patterned blanket, heavy and fuzzy and therefore very warm. Honestly, he feels a bit bad. He found out just earlier today it was also her birthday, so the gift wasn't terribly well thought out due to the time constraint. Hopefully she at least likes it.