open | a merry meri mingle

[sterngaze]

Who: Meridians new & old!
What: Cookout mingle
Where: Alenroux
When: Mid-March, after Vander's rescue
Warnings: Potentially alcohol consumption and violence, for the rowdy

After the initiation of Springstar's invasion plans for Alenroux, tensions among the Meridian-aligned might be a bit strained. The move comes as a surprise even for many of the shard-bearers within the faction itself, to say nothing of those whose livelihoods depend on the farms here. It's not yet clear what Highstorm's response will be, but one will certainly be coming; when that happens, someone is going to come out on the bottom, and their blood will be at least partially on Meridian's hands.

At times like this, the importance of maintaining morale can't be understated. A call goes out to the newest generation of those harmonized with Meridian's light: it's time to have a party!

PREPARATION:

Those who can are invited to help with the set-up. There are drinks to procure, foodstuffs to acquire and prepare, canopies to erect for shade, entertainments to organize. It's not meant to be a grand affair — the gathering is private, intended to foster camaraderie among the shard-bearers after long days and nights of work — but it will be a comfortable one, with edibles and enjoyments to offer to those taking solace in the company of their fellows.

It takes one of Alenroux's long days to make all the necessary arrangements — and then, late the following morning, after the night's monsters have slunk back into the woods, things are made ready. All that's left is for the guests to arrive.

THE EVENT:

Spring is still in the midst of taking hold over Alenroux, so a tall bonfire at the centre of the gathering place offers a toasty place to linger and chat throughout the day. Hot drinks and a variety of fire-roasted foods are on offer, including an entire deer helpfully supplied and prepared by Liem. Logs and stumps provide simple seating, and nearby canopies provide shade around the tables of food and drink. A little further away, sturdy tents provide more private gathering places for those wishing for a break from the hubbub.

And there will be hubbub. To break the ice between unfamiliar faces, a variety of contests have been set up over the course of the gathering. These range from simple arm-wrestling competitions, to three-legged races, to friendly sparring matches for those so-inclined. Gathered Meris are encouraged to spectate and bet amongst themselves on contest outcomes — and better yet, to volunteer to participate themselves during the next round.

For those who have already had a chance to relax and let off some steam, the gathering is a perfect opportunity to get to know one's fellow sect-mates a little better, and to reaffirm why Meridian called to them in the first place. Those gathered are encouraged to take the chance to tell a few tales about the place they came from, and to share the visions inside their Sunbeam with those from other worlds. A favourite place, a cherished person, an unkept promise, even an old enemy: all could be worth revisiting for a moment with new comrades in arms.

Comments

[leicesters]

[Claude really hasn't been in the mood to even feign good cheer throughout this gathering, but Byleth suddenly trying to get everyone's attention like an echo of his professor days is enough to quirk a smile out of him from where he's sitting nearby.]

'Ritualistic party games'? You have such a way with words.

[He's also going to miss that Claude is teasing, probably, but never mind.]

Never have I ever been in a bar fight.

[fishfearme]

[Ah.

Byleth took a long swig of his drink. He's been in several barfights (and Sasuke taught him not to quibble over sips so one chug it is) and all of them were Jeralt's fault.]

...that was for at least five.

[leicesters]

[He pretends to look surprised, at least.] Wow, you're a troublemaker all right. Did you keep insulting the wrong people, or is your luck just that bad?

[Claude already has a feeling it's Jeralt's fault, but the mental image of absent, impassive Byleth starting tavern brawls is too funny.]

[fishfearme]

In my defence, I only started two of them.

[Oh, he admitted it!]

One was due to a mercenary daring to insult Jeralt. The other was because I witnessed a man kicking the tavern's cat.

[...]

The other three were Jeralt's fault.

[leicesters]

Ah, well, I can't blame you for the second one. Hurting an animal is awful. For the first one... it's sweet that you care, but I'm pretty sure the Blade Breaker can fight his own battles.

[Which he apparently did, if the other three instances are anything to go by.]

[fishfearme]

...I was a young adolescent at the time and somewhat hot-headed.

[Byleth. Hot-headed. But it was true, er, in a way. He had still been a blank-faced creepy child that unnerved most grown mercenaries, but he'd been far more eager to prove himself to Jeralt, and picking a fight with a drunken mercenary three times his size and weight had been how he had decided to do it.

Byleth had won, of course, and Jeralt had found the entire thing more amusing than anything (though he'd still scolded him for causing trouble - never mind Jeralt had instigated a barfight himself only a few nights prior! The hypocrisy of parents...).]

Jeralt found it funny, at least.

[...]

In any case, it's my turn, yes?

[leicesters]

Hard to imagine you as a feisty little spitfire.

[Sure, he'd read Jeralt's diary, but that definitely reinforced the 'blank-faced creepy child' image. Maybe Jeralt airbrushed out some of Byleth's more colourful moments in his writings...?]

But yeah, it's your turn. Whatcha got?

[fishfearme]

Hmm, let me see...

[Byleth had initiated the game, but he had no idea what he could say. What hasn't he done...? Many things, but abruptly he couldn't recall a single thing... this was like that game he played with his blind date, where he struggled- oh!]

Never have I ever ridden a camel.

[There we go.]

[leicesters]

[Damn, that's a smart move. Claude takes a drink, since he doesn't have any real reason to lie about it, but he still looks a little startled.]

They smell pretty bad, you know.

[fishfearme]

[Hmmmmmmmmm.... Claude had ridden a camel, like his blind date.......]

I'd imagine.

[Horses smelled bad too, as well as cows and... anything whose main sustenance was eating grass or hay. He supposed camels, being like... desert horses or whatever, suffered from the same stinky fate.]

But, I suppose that means you've ridden them often...?

[leicesters]

[Claude's pretty sure he can't imagine, if his frame of reference is just a horse, but he'll let him stay blissfully ignorant on that one.]

Why would you suppose that? Fódlan's not exactly overflowing with them.

[fishfearme]

[Byleth remembered when they first met here Claude, and how he mentioned Almyra regarding his Sunbeam...]

I assumed because you've been to Almyra, correct? The books I read said the beasts resided in those eastern lands. Though, no one could agree exactly on what they looked like, rare as they are in Fódlan.

[Did they even exist in Fódlan????]

[leicesters]

If any of the books mentioned a big hump on their backs, that's true. They also have these bendy necks like this-- [He hunches his shoulders and sticks up his head, not that it demonstrates much besides looking kind of goofy,] and sometimes they spit when they get mad.

[...Which kind of indirectly answers Byleth's question.]

[fishfearme]

I see. You truly are familiar with them.

[And what a strange creature... a humpbacked, snake-necked spitting fiend (this is how those medieval abominations get drawn in the scriptures). But Byleth put a tick next to Claude's name for 'potential blind date identity'.]

In any case, it's your turn now, Claude.

[eyeforaneye]

[ His glass lifts, then lowers... lifts again, indecisively, before lowering again. Hm. ]

Never have I ever given less than my best.

[ Ever. In anything. Prove me wrong. ]

[leicesters]

What, are you the perfectionist type?

[Claude evidently is not, because he takes a drink.]

[eyeforaneye]

I don't expect perfection. I just don't believe in committing myself half-heartedly to something.

If I'm going to do it, I should attempt to do it well.

[leicesters]

All right. Let's say, hypothetically, you went to an academy where one of the classes was very, very boring. It wasn't important for you to get good grades, either.

Would you still give it your best shot?

[eyeforaneye]

[ A fair question, and yet it's one that Sasuke deliberates over for a surprisingly short amount of time in spite of that fact. ]

Yes.

But I'm aware that I'm also a boring person. [ Or, at the very least, it's what he aspires to be. ]

[leicesters]

Yikes. Also a self-deprecating one, for all that talk of giving your best.

[But, fine, they'll just have to agree to differ on that one.]

Never have I ever wielded a spear.

[eyeforaneye]

It's not self-deprecation. It's self-awareness. [ It's delusion, but he believes it and that's what matters.

He does, however, lift that glass before hesitating. Has he? ... no, but he offers Claude an appraising look, judging the prompt "interesting". ]

Never have I ever wielded a crossbow.

[hyperpotamous]

Oof, that's a long time ago now...

[ he's not a guy who sits in bars anymore and hardly ever did, which is why his glass stays put after a little thought. ]

Never have I ever lost a bet.

[leicesters]

I'm not usually a gambling man, but I was talked into it once.

[He huffs and takes a drink. Thanks, Balthus...!]

[hyperpotamous]

I'll admit I'm not much of a gambler either; I don't like leaving things to chance any more than I can help it.

[ he likes to be in control too much to rely on luck. ]

[passio]

[ the impression of communion from the outside, which should by now seem familiar— ]

Is a bar fight different from a regular fight?

[ the phrasing makes it seem distinct. for now, dextera’s fingers remain splayed. ]