middaeg | closed | leave your life open

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closed | leave your life open

Who: Everett, Viren, & Myr
When: Mid-Auguril, [waves hand]
Where: Everett's garden
What: Two dads and a deer celebrate a year in Aefenglom together
Warnings: warnings for DISGUSTING, FILTHY WHOLESOMENESS and TEA

It's somehow been a year since Myr found himself on the wrong side of a mirror from Thedas, and what a year it has been. A year of prophetic dreams, liberated cities--near-deaths, unwelcome transformations--magic lost and magic found--

And miraculously, wonderfully, a family new-made after he'd thought his lost to him entirely. More miraculous still that it had begun with friendships forged on that very first day in Aefenglom, two of them with men he'd not trade for all the worlds.

It had been Everett's idea to celebrate their mutual anniversary among the three of them, with a leisurely mid-morning tea in the older man's garden. There's a table spread with a truly respectable Springtide tea service set out among the flowers, while the rats hasten to erect an umbrella over it against the sun and any unseasonable rain. A half-grown wormipede drowses under the table, and Myr...

Myr, for once in his life, isn't doing a thing to fuss over the preparations. His contributions to the day--a basket of rose petals, two jars of new honey, and two little wrapped gifts--sit on the table while he sits half-sprawled over a chair turned backward and simply enjoys the sun.

Who'd have thought: Everett's had a tempering effect on him after all.

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[ viren would oblige myr in answering that question, reciting some typical katolian activities that come with an anniversary (wedding anniversaries). but he shuts his mouth when he hears, although muffled, the unmistakable noise of laughter. ]

[ ah. his shoulders hitch, likewise sipping from his tea to give himself a moment. his face is heated from the tea's steam, nothing else. ]

... Well, yes, that. [ as he thinks he just might have the slightest notion of where everett's mind has gone. for all he knows of other people's worlds, an anniversary could mean a good head hunt. ] ... For romantic, human anniversaries.

[Myr does not kick Everett under the table; he just looks decidedly smug for a fraction of a second as his dearest, beloved Bonded blows bubbles in his fine Springtide-style tea.

Got 'em.

(Viren being flustered is a delightful bonus.)]

That, [he echoes, all mock-innocence; had he eyes, he'd make 'em wide to suit the tone.] For a romantic, human anniversary--but we're all Monsters.

[He doesn't dispute the romance, though.] Which I s'pose makes no difference in Myddvai--right, dearheart?

[Then, in a lower aside to Viren,] If he drowns in that we're going to have to breathe for him.

[Romantic!!]

PFfahaa... very little! Difference, yes... [Everett has to set his tea down to not spit it all over their fine morning spread. He reaches to pinch Myr's hand in mock scolding, stop teasing him! He's a faun and he's from a sex disaster world, how could he help such a thought...

Everett can attempt to recover some pleasant dignity, if still chuckling]

Basking in the merriment such company continues to bring, yes. That is the ideal way to celebrate an anniversary, I should say.

[ viren at least knows better to drink too deeply in the midst of all this commentary (the latest of which myr has received a suffering, sidelong look for), should he also end up sputtering on his own; this would be far from his first rodeo. ]

If it's thought to be ideal, [ lowly, carefully spoken, ] then perhaps it can be considered... For later.

[ ... yes... he sips again from his tea, then, in a sort of pointed way, and lowers his cup. he tips his head toward the table with raised eyebrows, noting the gifts with a nod. ]

There are also these, for the occasion.

[The pinch gets an obliging, melodramatic yip out of Myr; he rubs at the "injured" spot by way of mock-apology. It does stop him from teasing further...

Though likely he also quits the game because Viren makes that intriguing suggestion in his utterly sober, utterly--Viren way, and it does very interesting things to Myr's imagination.]

For later, [he echoes, tasting the words,] since we'd hardly want to waste the lovely tea.

[Then there's sort of an awkward gap in the conversation because he can't see Viren's gesture and--given where the collective Faunmind has gone--can't instant connect what these the Dragon might be talking about.

It stretches on for several seconds, Myr's expression going pleasantly puzzled.

...then it clicks.]

Oh! The gifts. R--right, we ought to open those too.

Edited 2020-09-07 01:23 (UTC)

[Those few seconds are reliably filled with Everett's outright laughter. How bluntly Viren can capture the imagination of poor fauns, indeed! As he'd put it, Everett is basking in the merriment, just really hyucking it up at everything.

He will, myrcifully, slide the youngest man over his designated gift from Viren. Everett gets two because he's already given gifts for bonding with his fellows and presented this nice morning together. He earned it.]

Who goes first? [he drums his fingers excitedly over his own gifts. There's a childish sort of excitement he has towards receiving such things, since it was never a Springtide tradition to be given a gift that wasn't also an obligation to be repaid. He knows that is not the case with his beloved bonded, so he just gets to be genuinely thrilled]

[ he was absolutely dead serious too but he will forgive this laughter ]

[ viren's eyebrows arch, glancing between the gifts passed about, noting everett's thrill (or that also might just feel like his own)... he appears to consider. ]

Everett. You can go.

[ —spoken all dramatically like, self-sacrificing as he is. though he doesn't specify whose gift. does he secretly want him to open myr's first, so that he might judge the adequacy of his own??? very likely. ]

Yes! You've already given us your gifts, [Myr piles on, maybe a little caught up in that enthusiasm that's only half his own.

He leans forward in (mostly) Everett's direction, ears and heart poised to catch every nuance of his beloved's response. His own gift's a little thing, three inches to a side at most and wrapped in paper printed with tiny bees.]

Let's see... [he muses, holding both in a hand and weighing them to decide. Myr's is small, but hefty! Everett opens it up to see what's inside, eyes bright. He never got gifts as a child, so there's more wonderment to it than a man his age would normally have. Oh, Springtide upbringing... making children of some men.]

Oh! How beautiful! [he pulls out the glass paperweight and holds it up to the dull light of the morning. It's cloudy out, but the glass still shimmers nicely.]

[ there's a small oh! that escapes viren, too. as his interest gets the best of him and he leans forward just a touch in his seat, to admire how the waning sunlight catches against the glass, illuminating what's inside. ]

[ it's not even his gift -- but he can't help but smile, too (even if he will curse himself for what will be the evident last minute-ness of his gifts, comparatively). ]

That is very lovely, Myr.

[ both practical and sentimental...?! the best sort. ]

[Myr flushes to hear his gift praised so, the pink spreading even beneath the delicate fur on his ears.

It was hard to know, when he only had descriptions to go on, whether it would suffice--and so, so gratifying to hear that it did.]

I'm glad you both think so. I thought--it sounded a very lovely thing and might look well on your desk, dearheart.

[He clears his throat then, and gives a little shake of his head, before brightening to an encouraging grin.]

And now I want to hear about the other one!

Aha! I see it now, a new orchid. Forever encased in bloom... Oh, darling Myr, I shall cherish this dearly. You are too thoughtful. [Everett praises so easily, but he means it and the bond blossoms in that gratitude. A short stop to lean in and kiss the knuckles upon one of Myr's hands before he returns to his other gift.

From Viren... now, he's so very curious, opening it up with enthusiastic rips of paper wrapping. The rats will happily clean up the mess, taking away any shiny paper as treasures to place in some hidden away nests in his rafters and garden.]

[ everett will open the gift to reveal a small set of stemless wine gasses, complete with engraved runes; in order to compensate for his own lack of forethought, they're fairly obviously of the pricey variety (to be fair, even if he had more time, he'd still ensure a gift to be expensive). he probably just about beamed a wad of cash at the most effective salesperson. ]

... Should a Witch provide magic, they're supposed to—with whatever beverage's contained within—refill, if you clink a glass against another of the set.

[ of course it has to involve magic, of course it does. viren finds it difficult to recall the last time he hadn't given a gift that didn't have a magical touch. ]

[Of course it's got to involve magic, and of course that has the other (ex-)mage at the table leaning forward with avid curiosity and pricked ears at the description.]

Oh, that's clever--a conjuration that copies your drink from one t'the other? Can it do anything wet? [--and then, with a beaming grin in the direction of Viren's voice,]

And they're Faunproof, right? Or how many rounds could you get through with them before they need a recharge?

[Uh-oh. Someone might be making plans for unauthorized experiments. (~~and we all thought the custody battle over boaren was bad~~)]

We'll need to get Wataru over and test these! What a brilliant gift, Viren, I adore them. How curious... [Everett turns them over in hands with fascination, ever the one who enjoyed magical trinkets and playing with their capabilities. They all had that in common really, it's no wonder Viren would be drawn to these as a gift. Also, they're simply very tasteful glasses. Everett couldn't approve more]

Thank you both, I feel very honored! [and Everett's just GLOWING with contentment and gratitude in his bonds, simply can't help it.

But of course, he's swiftly curious what they gave to one another.]

Both of your turns!

[ viren appears pleased the gift was well-received, if his contented smile is anything to go by. though he's less pleased, as a result of his own hurried failings, that he's not entirely certain of the glasses' limitations. it's a humiliating oversight....... ]

Three times, is what I was told. But, I also look forward to putting that to the test.

[ and he's excited for his own gift as well; with an inquisitive look to myr, kindly coupled with a verbal announcement, ]

I'll go, then.

[ begone, wrapping paper ]

Please, [Myr replies, still grinning. He can't help but lean forward in anticipation of how the gift's received.

Viren's gift is a little larger than Everett's. Something in it shifts promisingly when jostled, and beneath the wrapping paper is a lovely little cherrywood box inset with a thin band of mother-of-pearl around the outside. It's padded with velvet on the inside (pretty to the eyes, not the most expensive stuff to the touch) and cradles three shark-Merrow teeth. They've each been scrimshawed with scenes of the sea hat lock together in a tableau of a leviathan hunt, if one can solve the puzzle of slotting their carved edges together.]

They didn't have one with Dragon teeth, [Myr volunteers, apologetically, when he hears the box opened.] But the artist was keen to get her hands on some if there were any available. Said she'd carve three for a fourth one to keep.

[ viren appears instantly transfixed the moment he recognizes the merrow teeth as what they are. he opens the box, delicately, so very delicately! pulls one of the merrow teeth into the sunlight where he can study it. ]

No, it's, [ give him a moment -- he has to remember himself, multitask his attention away from admiring the tooth to finish his sentence. ] ... very nice. I like it a lot.

[ and pulling the box just a little closer to himself. hopefully, everett got his chance to peek over to view the lovely scrimshaw. if he didn't lament the idea of parting with a single dragon's tooth, he may take that merchant up on her offer. ]

Thank you, Myr.

[Not at all hard to read Myr's pleasure at that response, from the set of his ears and the curve of his smile.]

You're welcome, Viren.

[(Shame he's not come up with a better endearment for the dragon yet. Put that one on the list of to-dos.)]

I'm glad they suit.

[And now!! It is his turn for a gift. He feels his way to it carefully, taking a few moments to explore its heft and dimensions. And a few more again to open it with the respect it's due. He's not quite the sort of fold up the wrapping paper after and save it, but...almost.]

[Everett does get a peek at the gift before Viren goes hording them away. Most beautiful, really, and very well suited to the man and his collecting of the magical and monstrous. Even without sight, Myr has a sense for the artistically lovely that must be admired.]

You two are most precious. [genuine, then far more teasing] Shall I play your romantic ballad? I have it recorded upon my watch.

[he delights in the tale of the grand opera singer and his blind faun lover even still]

You— [ it's recorded. oh, deer. ] Everett. No need.

[ viren has withstood myr's joke on the matter, thus far, but is this is all somehow far more embarrassing when stated genuinely rather than teasingly. he feels his heartrate pick up, just a touch. ]

[ but so it's with some relief that myr moves on to open his gift. it's a wind chime, complete with anatomically inaccurate bees! please don't study these too thoroughly. the gold coloring appears to shimmer in the sunlight. like everett's gift, telling in that, on the bee's wings are inscribed delicate little runes. ]

It's a wind chime. [ if this wasn't immediately obviously. ] Imbue it with magic, and the sound it produces it meant to have a soothing effect on emotions. [ ... so he was told, anyway. ]

[ but, alas. viren's can't be certain if he purchased this because he thought myr would enjoy it, or because it reminded him of myr. ]

Edited 2020-09-11 15:19 (UTC)

[The expression Myr turns in the direction of Everett's voice--interrupted in unwrapping Viren's gift--is one for the records in the pure amused horror it encapsulates. That's the look of a man knowing death approaches in the guise of teasing.]

Once it's stopped raining, so we can run romantically, screamingly off together, [he deadpans.

Neatly avoiding how precious he and Viren are together, because, gosh!! Everett!! Do you know how hard he is trying not to get his soft sentimental heart ALL OVER this Dragon? So hard.

...Though Viren keeps thwarting him in that aim, damn the man. See: This gift, which Myr traces over eagerly with his fingers as Viren describes it.]

Oh--these are, [flower flies? ...no, wait,] that's like honeycomb--oh, they're little bees, [naturally.

Then he's holding it up at arm's length--away from the table, thankfully--to catch whatever there is of a breeze, ears angled toward the tiny sounds it makes. Even without the runes empowered that's plenty soothing.]

--That is lovely, [he sighs at last.] And Maker knows the soothing effect will come in useful, like as not. Thank you, truly, Viren.

[Everett playfully leans out on one elbow to blow air at the chimes, not doing much to make them sing, but the attempt was made. He straightens with a contented smirk at how, well, likewise contented his companions are. Taking his cigarette box from his coat, he'll take one for himself and pop it between his lips, before offering to Viren. Myr would likewise be indulged, but he's never known the youngest of them to care for a smoke.]

I'm not certain I've ever asked, how did you two meet? I met you both, upon separate occasions of course, at the first festival we all arrived during.

[ viren is again, very pleased with the reception of the gift. even if myr wouldn't have been able to see, he did aim to return any smile with one of his own. he accepts the cigarette, turning away to light his with a flicker of a small flame from his mouth (and would offer the same to everett, of course). ]

[ he pauses, mulling over the question, taking a moment to puff on his cigarette. lowering it, ]

We met at Precogstitchin'. [ he comes to answer. ] I confronted him over his pointed ears.

[ —very forthcoming, that. ]

[Smoking's not a habit Myr had time to acquire and it does not occur to him to ask for one of his own, though the scent of the smoke--and the little frisson of adrenaline it draws across a Faun's instincts--isn't unpleasant to be around. He leaves Everett's question to Viren as he folds the wind chime carefully back into its packaging; gives a brief amused huff as the Dragon comes right to the point.]

He wanted to know whether I was a Xadian elf. We got on to less fraught topics from there, [you know, little inconsequential things like the loss of their magic and how they'd get home.] Then began running into each other sitting in on Coven classes.

[His expression turns faintly wistful as he recounts that, one ear flicking.] And having you in common, dearheart, it wasn't all that long before we were thoroughly tangled up together.

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