[Closed] Drink With Me To Days Gone By

[madame_de_fer]

WHO: DAI advisors and companions, yes even Cole
WHAT: Drinking and remembering... party? Not a party.
WHEN: Mid Guardian, right after this. Well, once everyone's not freezing ass in the snow.
WHERE: Vivienne's Balcony
NOTES: Drinks. Feels. Varric and Cassandra, please keep to opposite ends of the balcony, if you please. (Tag around and in and whatever how you like.)



[After the heated emotional outbreak over the sending crystal, and the resultant reminder of the one they've lost, Vivienne quietly opens her balcony to those who knew the Herald best. Silent drinking is allowed, raging tempers are not. Sharing fond memories of the Herald welcomed and possibly even craved.]

Comments

[qunari]

If doing your job was always easy, what would be the point of you doing it?

[ Bull smirks faintly at that, head tipping slightly. For all the differences people choose to see in how the Qun did things, ultimately the goals weren't so different.

A spymaster ought to know. ]

But if it looks easy, means you're doing your job right.

[fightingale]

( A wry grin, at that. ) Quite.

( She certainly cannot imagine just anyone being able to manage what she does. Then again, there are times she doubts her own capacity for it, her own ability. Nights such as this, where she dwells on how her cautious in recalling her scouts cost them their Herald, how they are having this gathering because she lost them the warning that might have let Evelyn live, nights like the one where Zevran was taken.

That last part... well. If it looks easy, means you're doing your job right, it makes her look to Bull with a new focus. A barb? A critique? "Friendly" advice, perhaps, that she is showing too much, and not concealing well enough. That she should be making it look easy, when she feels she is doing the exact opposite of that, whenever she descends from her tower for too long. Then again, she has aways excelled at smoke and mirrors, even when it feels as though her very nerves were alight will all she feels.

She wonders what is the best way to respond. )

When we act with certainty, it should be easy. ( Certainty is, however, an ever elusive type of prey. )

[qunari]

Yeah. Should.

[ There's a quirk at the corner of his lips. Having it look easy and it actually being easy? Never the same thing. Might be easier to bear if it was, but that was their lot in life. She did a good job keeping herself together, all things consider.

'Nightingale' was a deceptively delicate-sounding title. But the reputation that came with it was anything but. ]

[fightingale]

( Should was part of so many challenging queries for Leliana, of late. For the last decade or so, really, and the answers were never as easy as one would hope. "Should" and "easy" were both, she suspected, unrealistic ideals. Things to hope for and never expect. )

Speaking of 'should,' ( Leliana starts, setting down her now-empty glass, ) I suspect I should make my return to the Rookery.

( Or 'chicken coop,' thank you, Dorian. ) Report to me at the earliest convenience, if you could. ( And entirely aware of how demanding that might sound, she amends, ) Tomorrow. Enjoy your evening.

( Mourning should not be interrupted, after all. Nor should celebrating, and she's not entirely certain where this falls on the spectrum. )