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

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

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.

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"Four more? I'm surprised that I'm finding you on your own then - you haven't been swarmed for them yet" He chuckles lightly as he stops short of Zevran and takes a seat in front of him, shifting a bit to get comfortable as he continues to eye the flowers. "They are rather beautiful... and magical." He can feel the small amount of lyrium from this distance.

With that said Sam sets the basket in front of Zev before leaning his elbows on his knees and resting his chin on the top of his hands. It's not exactly props, but the basket does have something from his talent. "How many daggers did you say a good assassin should have on him?"

"I think the enchantment is one of protection, but I do not know enough to tell of what sort." He reaches up to rub a leaf between his fingers, pleased by the fresh, cool feel of it. There is nothing quite like fresh flowers in the morning, still beaded with dew. That these feel as such always? Is delightful.

"Seven, at least." He quirks a brow at Sam, wondering what he's heading for. "Why?"

"Well enchantments aren't my forte so I wouldn't be able to tell you for sure. At least you'll look nice while doing everything, yeah?"

At the question Sam gives a bit of a shrug before motioning for Zevran to go through the basket. Under the cloth isn't any fanciful packaging, but there is enough for him to go through. A leather pouch with a set of daggers etched with wings, a whetstone, and a variety of fruit.

"Is this some manner of saucy surprise-" Ah, no. Not saucy.

Kind. Terribly, horribly kind. They are simply adorned and exquisitely balanced, he takes them out one by one to flip them over his fingers, test the edge against the pad of his thumb- inspecting every angle not to criticize, but to appreciate. "These are..."

Marvelous. That is the only word for them. And thus, that is what he says. "Marvelous, Sam."

Sam certainly expects a comment from Zevran - something lewd or other - but at seeing him cut himself off, Sam cannot help but grin wider, more so because of the expression on Zevran's face. To be honest he didn't know what to get the assassin, but after much thought something that would be useful and practical seemed like the best way to go.

The compliment has the proud grin turning softer, a warm smile that Zevran liked the gift. "I'm not sure if they'll be a match for any of the daggers you've collected so far, but... hopefully you'll find them useful. They'll cut fruit rather well at least." That being said Sam reaches over and pulls a peach from the bottom of the basket with amusement.

"Happy birthday, Zevran."

"You made these?" Of course he'd made them, he can see the subtle hammering he'd familiarized himself with while watching Sam at the forge. He has seen, stolen, looted, taken, and purchased many daggers in all his years-

But never before had anyone made a set, just for him. Simply because they could and thought they would suit him.

There is an uncomfortable warmth tugging in his chest he does not have words for- so he pastes on a smile and holds his hand out for the peach, slicing into it to share a wedge with Sam. "They are lovely- well balanced and have a fine edge. They are not daggers I'd be willing to part with gladly."

At the offered peach slice, Sam gladly takes it, nodding his head in thanks before popping it in his mouth then licking his fingers of the juice.

Sam's made blades before, but making something well made for someone of Zevran's skill? He's happy to know that Zevran likes them and compliments them so. "I'm glad that you approve. Figured getting you a whole set of seven would be over doing it."

"Seven is so I have some I can throw and abandon. These? Stay at my belt." Something he would show and show gladly, daggers tucked behind his shortswords or held in their stead. "These? Are duelists daggers."

Hearing the firm statement of where the daggers were going has Sam smiling wider, very much glad he had decided on a matching pair rather then just one. Course he's glad that he hadn't gone with seven either. Having some to throw and abandon made sense. "Well guess for next time I'll make you some less decorative ones to match, but easy enough to leave behind."

"Isabela is going to be jealous." She likes fine daggers- but she also has a habit of losing them. More often than not she's losing them to Zevran who finds much better homes for them in the backs of those that earned their death.

He has only met Isabela the once, but from that time he could clearly understand why Zevran makes a comment; she seemed to like fine, shiny things. "Well she can come talk to me and commission some if that is that case. I made those especially for you."

"And they are all the more marvelous for it. Grazie, Mio Gircio." He presses the pommel of one dagger to his lips in a kiss, blowing it to Sam across the table in an old, barely remembered salute.

Something he'd seen a noble do for a kinsman in the streets of Antiva as a boy.

Well Sam has certainly never seen the action before, but considering Zevran says that he likes them, he figures it is a kind gesture to receive. Smiling at that, Sam does tilt his head a bit, rolling the words that Zevran had said a moment ago in his head. "What does... 'mio gircio' mean? Can't say I know much Antivan."

"My friend, though in Antivan we've many words for specific kinds of friend. In common you've but the one and it is terribly confusing." Specificity matters in Antiva; for things to be so easily muddled in the South?

Well he is not terribly surprised by this. "A Gircio is a teasing friend- one you are playful and on occasion flirtatious with but have no true intent to seduce."

They had more than one way to say 'friend' in Antiva? That seemed like it would be more confusing than having just the one word. Course when he hears the less simplified version of it, he can clearly see why someone from Antiva would find Common... restricting.

"Ah." He's not quite sure what he should say to that, but as per usual Sam finds himself a bit red on the cheeks at the way Zevran says things. Playful and flirtatious friend. Still despite the coloring it's clear that he's glad to know that Zevran considers him as such. "Glad you consider me as such."

"Ah, he blushes." Zevran crackles a low laugh. "Just so, it is what we are, yes? Flirting and teasing friends without expectations of deeper intimacy; for you've your Krem and I've my lovers." Multiple.

Many, varied, and marvelous.

Commenting and laughing on him blushing does not help and Sam just sighs though there's a smile with it. "Well, I would say the flirting is mostly on you, but I suppose that is what we are." Perhaps things could have had been different since he did find Zevran attractive, but he indeed have Krem and happier because of it.

"Speaking of Krem, the two of you have been practicing a lot it seems."

"You are improving." He flicks his fingers in a casually dismissive gesture- given time Sam can be positively charming. It simply takes time for him to find his feet, there is no shame in this. "As is Krem. I take it you are enjoying the fruits of our labors, mm?"

It isn't something he thought he would ever teach- and it is the barest drops from the well of his knowledge in the area; but to keep it easy, to keep it light, to keep it sincere? He must be careful in what he shares.

"So you say," he says with a small smile and raising his hand to rub at the back of his neck. He doesn't quite see that he is improving, but he'll take Zevran's word on it anyways.

The smile drops away a bit though at the grin and Zevran suggesting that he should be enjoying something. "Can't say I know what you're both practicing, so... I'm not sure?"

"Flirting." It's an honest enough answer, and true enough. "But I do not think he will need my help much longer. You two are doing so well I think, perhaps, It is best to let you both see where it goes."

"Flirting," he repeats, raising a brow at the answer. Somehow he hadn't considered that Krem needed lessons, or was it because he was getting tips-? "Well I suppose we have been flirting so... yes I'm enjoying that." If Zevran meant anything else though there hadn't been much of that.

At hearing that they were doing well he smiles a bit broader again, nodding a bit at that. "I suppose a 'thank you' is in order for all your help."

"I do what I can for those that need it." He shrugs, slicing himself another wedge of peach. There are a great many things he could do with a peach to help things along but- for one day? He wishes to be less the Lothario and more himself.

"And I supposed I... or both of us needed it. Thank you." Sam chuckles softly at that, shaking his head a bit as he thinks about it. But today wasn't about him or Krem, it was about Zevran.

"So, any special plans for the rest of the day? Or are you simply just taking it easy from everything?"

"Waiting for people to impress me, dinner with Alistair, and I believe I've an appointment with the Iron Bull afterward." He is so very looking forward to it. "The rest of the day I mean to do nothing but enjoy myself, a day of leisure isn't something I have all that often and I mean to make the most of it."

An appointment with the Iron Bull. He's pretty sure he doesn't want to ask what that would be knowing what he does about either of them. "Ah huh. Well, I suppose I should take my leave then," he says with a bit of an amused shake to his head at Zevran's plans. "I wouldn't want to scare off anyone trying to impress you," he adds, his smile becoming a bit bigger. "Happy birthday again... mio gircio-?" he pauses, eyeing Zevran to see if he had said that right.

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