tea party } watch out for those rabbit holes

[graveflowers]

Happy Happy Birthday, Baby- Elvis Presley

WHO || Violet and OPEN
WHAT || Tea party out in the garden
WHERE || Knights HQ, back garden
WHEN || Sunday, May 26th around 3pm and onward.
HOW || Actionspam, get yo' threadjacking on babes.

When Violet throws a party, she is, surprisingly, classy about it. It's a garden party, with tables out in the garden and the flowers all in bloom. There is tea and mimosas on the tables and little cakes and vegetarian sandwiches. Music is playing on her phone -- the most eclectic mix of modern and retro, and a truly astounding amount of Elvis. Don't judge, she doesn't know why she likes him so much. Off to one side there is an area of shade, a construction of twigs and branches making quite a fine shelter, flowering vines interwoven between the branches to cover up any holes.

She sends invitations the day of, though send might not be the word for it. More like... she duct tapes the invitations to every door she sees before knocking and scampering off to the next door. Does she know you? Maybe not. Does she care? Definitely not. You get an invitation, you get an invitation, everyone gets a humpback whale!

It's just an everyday party in the garden, or so the invitation claims. Except it's her birthday, or the one she and Charming chose for her, and she wants to celebrate turning twenty six! She just doesn't want to be the center of attention.

Come one, come all, mix, mingle, nibble. Violet will be around, coaxing flowers into bloom and trying to remember where she put her shoes when she came out here... Whatever. Barefoot it is.

Comments

[graveflowers]

Um, you might need to show me how to do it. The weaving thing, I mean. I don't want to, like, ruin it.

[Because she would, inexplicably.]

[luthir]

Of course. I spend my mornings in the training room, if you'd like to find me there sometime.

[graveflowers]

We could do it now. It just got restrung.

[This time she's not even flirting, she is just really excited about this okay.]

[luthir]

[ he looks around ] What about your guests?

[graveflowers]

[Vi looks around at her guests, back at the cloth in her hands, before looking back to the people at her party. When she sees Felicity laugh about something, she shrugs and turns back to Luthir.]

I won't be missed and I'm sure they'll survive. [Well, she's pretty sure Lan isn't going to kill Archer... mostly.] Please? [She looks adorably excited to see how the cloth works. Please please.]

[luthir]

[ he almost looks a little pleased that she'd rather play with his gift than hang out at her own party. don't tell. ] We'll have to go find your bow.

[graveflowers]

[Yay, please really is a magic word. She reaches out and grabs his hand, giving him a tug like come on.]

Luckily I know just where it is.

[and its in her room so... thataway.]

[luthir]

[ he falls into her lead, his cool hand enclosed in hers, an amused expression on his face as he wordlessly follows her up the path back into the castle ]

[graveflowers]

[This just in, they're holding hands. Violet is suddenly a twelve year old and internally screaming. Like a lot. This should not be a big deal. It totally is. She has to consciously tell herself to be cool so she doesn't say anything on their little walk just in case she spontaneously proposes to him.

...again.

Anypoodle. Freaking out aside and if you ignore the fact that she's still barefoot (fuck shoes), she pushes the door open with hip when they reach her room. Her room looks like a tornado hit her closet and she seems to realize that a half second before she decides she doesn't care. Her bow is on her bed, which while still a mess of sheets and more blankets than one needs in spring, is the only part of the room not covered in... stuff. Her sword is flung across one of the nice chairs. There is a streak of clean floor directly from the door to the banister in front of her bed.]

Uh, sorry. About the mess. I don't really do neat that well.

[She moves forward a step before letting go of his hand. Her brain has made this suddenly really awkward so she falls back on what's normal: she darts forward and jumps the bannister. And falls. (Dex 5) Rolling on to her back, she dissolves into giggles.]

[luthir]

[ he follows her inside and casts a curious look around her mess, moving to examine her sword as she releases his hand, and reaching for it when he hears the abrupt thump and his head snaps back. without even pausing, he sails over the banister himself using one hand for ballast and lands beside her, concern knotting his features before he... realizes she's laughing and probably okay and he relaxes.

a chastising little smile quirks his lip and he reaches a hand down. ] I think you might need a step stool.

[graveflowers]

Were you coming to rescue me? [She bites down on her lip to stop her giggles, breathless, and after a moment takes his hand to help herself up.] If so a step stool is completely out of the question.

[luthir]

[ he yanks her up with complete ease (str 18) - maybe a little too much ease, because that just almost pulls her up right against him. his eyes flash across her face in the hot second that they're so close and he's still holding her hand, and he seems to be considering her question, before he lets her go and takes a polite step to the side, eyes casting around the tiny space around her bed. ] I couldn't show how to weave your bow silencer if you were suffering from head trauma.

[graveflowers]

[There is a distinct noise of protest, and disappointment, before she waves a hand absently at her bow. She stoops the pick up the soft fabric and says quietly:] Head trauma would be worth it.

[luthir]

[ he moves thoughtfully to pick up the bow, before glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and saying carefully ] I wouldn't like to see you hurt.

[graveflowers]

I suppose it would be annoying if a squire got hurt, though I doubt we're that hard to come by. But gosh, that must suck considering how accident prone I am. [She shrugs, slumping down on the bed and pulling a leg up, tucking her toes under the opposite thigh, letting her present puddle between her finger in her lap.]

[luthir]

You're too hard on yourself. After all, which one of us was bitten by those slaadi? [ he turns the bow in his hands, examining it and looks around slightly, obviously hesitating over whether he's meant to sit on the bed too or climb back over and find a chair. ]

[graveflowers]

Yeah, defending my friend who I insisted we go back for and ran off after without waiting for you so...

[She pats the bed, but he can get a chair if he wants, she doesn't much care. Well obviously she cares but.]

Do I need to remind you who actually saved us in the end, too? Because that was you while I was hanging out on the floor.

[luthir]

[ well, if she's gonna invite him to sit, he'll come sit. ]

I've merely had the benefit of many... many more years of experience in situations of that kind.

[ he holds his hand out for the piece of cloth. also, he's close enough for violet to get to enjoy that he smells like flowers and a brisk spring breeze. ]

[graveflowers]

[Does he smell like violets because she can make that happen... She hands over the green cloth. She should have patted the bed even closer to her.]

Uh-huh. Still super aware of how old you are.

[luthir]

[ as he unwraps the cloth, laying it flat across the string, he muses: ] Not so old, by elvish standards.

Young, in fact.

[graveflowers]

Really? 200 is young to you since you're going to live for...ever. And my life expectancy is, like, thirty, so basically in this situation I am actually... oh.

I'm Mrs Robinson.

[luthir]

[ his expression clearly conveys he doesn't understand that reference, but he still feels the need to ask: ] Thirty?

You're the daughter of a goddess. Some aasimars with that much divine blood live for millennium.

[graveflowers]

Well, the oldest demigod I have ever met was forty-five and he was a creepy recluse who bathed in... really, really disgusting stuff to disguise his scent from monsters whose sole purpose in life is to hunt down demigods and eat them. Like... Jesus? Pretty much a big deal -- thirty three.

[She sighs slightly, pulling her other leg up to sit cross legged, tugging at her shirt and pointedly looking at the material she is winding through her fingers.] We get this phenomenal cosmic power and a death sentence. [She looks up.] I told you the gods were fickle. It's because they have to be. It's a defense mechanism, from watching their children die.

[luthir]

In your world. Maybe not in every world.

[graveflowers]

Maybe.

But I don't know. What if I suddenly think I'm going to live forever and settle into things and it turns out I'm wrong. It's a set up to get hurt.