therookery | Let's lose our minds

FORM: Sending Crystal
SENDER: Gavin Ashara on behalf of Maxwell Trevean, also Korrin, Kirk, Zevran, and Bruce
RECIPIENT: The Inquisition (enjoy, ya'll)
WHAT: Drunken Birthday Shenangians
WHEN: Today, now, live on a crystal near you.
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Drunken foolishness. Waste of good cake icing. Characters color-coded for convenience.

[Abruptly, everyone’s crystals start broadcasting the sound of a party, laughter, the strums of Antivan Guitars and singing under it all - where and who this party is from or for isn’t immediately apparent, at least until a familiar voice happily chimes in. It is Gavin, who sounds immensely pleased both with the situation, and himself.]

Inquisitionnn! I hereby announce - pronounce - today as Maxwell’s birthday and everyone should tell him that he is great and incredibly handsome even with icing on his face. Especially with icing on his face.

Until the ants come in. [Another familiar voice in the distance, and his tone is incredibly dry. Although the effect is quickly diminished when there's a loud cry of ‘Brubru!’ from a very happy, bubbly voice.]

It’s not a real party until you get sticky.[Maxwell’s laugh. Deep and full, immensely pleased. Until it suddenly cuts out with a little gasp.] Not there!

[ A familiar snicker, courtesy of Zevran ] Yes, there!

Hey, it’s not just icing, it’s icing vitaar. Very distinguished, badass stuff. He’s an honorary Vashoth today, and don’t you forget it. I even made him horns. [Korrin chuckles, sounding pretty mellow but not exactly drunk. It takes a lot more to get her that way than it does for mere mortals.]

Badass, and delicious. [Maxwell adds, an important addition; the words broken by small snorts of breath and laughter. Apparently whatever is being done is quite ticklish.]

Also maybe a bit too sweet for most people. [Such helpful commentary why is he here again.]

Pfft, there’s no such thing as ‘too sweet’!

[Gavin has been laughing over most of this, and now there comes the sound of shuffling and a chair being scraped across the floor.] Bruce, that just means your vitaar isn’t complete yet - Come here --

[With Great Exasperation:] Gavin, the baby is on my lap. [And as if to emphasize this, here is another ‘Brubru!!’]

I can hold him for you. But if you poop, you’re off to someone else, kid. Got it? [There’s a sudden giggle and a cry of ‘Owin!’ as she boops his nose.]

[Gavin replies in a sing-song voice, timed impeccably to match the strum of the antivan guitar:] Some frosting for the baaaaby and some for youuu~

Gavin, I don't need-- [Bruce cuts off here and starts spluttering instead.]

[ Kirk’s contribution so far has been snorts, snickers, outright laughs, and whoops of encouragement from somewhere further off, clearing into his cups from the way he now sounds to be giggling. ] It’s a good look for you, Bruce!

Much better. [Gavin’s grin is audible even over the sending Crystals.] But Maxwell, I think yours needs some editing, come here and I’ll lick that bit off--

[Waggling eyebrows don’t translate over crystals, but the laugh is clear.]

Another round! Maxwell, what sound would you wish next, ah? [ Zevran’s voice rings out from where he’s perched, lute idly strumming under all the chatter. ] Something to dance to, perhaps?

We’re all dressed up, only right to show it off! Who wants first dance?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Bruce is still totally making a face as he continues to spit out the frosting that got into his mouth. It's a bit too much sugar for him here, thank you very much.]

[At some point in the evening, Gavin gently takes the baby from Bruce's arms, and then sits heavily down in Bruce's lap, and sets Lucci down on his.]

Look, we make a mountain~ That's a good boy, Lucci, tell Uncle BruBru how much you love to flyyy

[At the word 'fly', he raises the baby in the air and zooms him around over his head - not letting go, of course, he doesn't want to die.]

[Bruce doesn't really make a face when Gavin does that, though he still looks pretty fairly exasperated still with Gavin's antics and has to bite down a sigh.]

Remember that Zevran won't hesitate to murder you in your sleep if you harm his baby.

[He's sitting nearby, watching curiously. They make an odd mix of people, but they seem to be having fun. At the question, though, his gaze goes right back to the cup he's nursing. And the water inside it.

Celebration often gets ugly, in his experience. He'll keep his head down and sneak glances.]

[Gavin, however, isn't letting anyone in the room keep to themselves, and walks over to drape himself across Kif's lap with absolutely no warning or even a 'by-your-leave'.]

On a scale of one to ten, just how handsome is Maxwell, and don't lie, because I know the truth. The answer is very.

[Oh no. Ohhhhh no. Kif's eyes are wide as the Dalish drapes himself across him, as if Kif's... a chair, or someone interesting, and his eyes dart back at the crowd. He has a decent guess at which one is Maxwell, which means Kif is now coloring a little too.]

He's... Um.

[Human. How do you evaluate a human's handsomeness? And how do you shift someone off your lap without dumping them to the floor? Everything about this is new.]

I've never ranked a human before. He's... six?

[It comes out as a squeak. That's more than average, so the Dalish couldn't be too upset, right?]

[Sorry Kif. It gets worse, because Gavin drapes an arm over Kif's shoulders like they are old friends.]

A siiix? [disbelieving.] Come on! You have eyes you can do better than that. It's his birthday you know. Are you thirsty? We have cake.

Sev-en?

[The second part is a bit more of a squeak than a word. This Dalish is so very close and Kif has no idea what to do.]

I can't drink cake.

[Or, clearly, what to say. The Dalish are friendly here in confusing ways and he's not sure how to keep up.]

[Maxwell turns by them, dipping his dance partner in an impressive bow.]

There's plenty of cake left, Serah. Help yourself.

[He doesn't know Kif from the Maker, but it hardly seems to matter as he lifts his partner again and starts to spin away with a handsome laugh.]

Can't promise how long the icing will last!

[That's quite the dip, but the man's a human. That has to make it easier. Kif would drop someone if he tried that.]

Seven point five, [he amends for the Dalish. The dip had been impressive.]

And I could try some cake. I'm not sure about... drinking.

[He's tiny, and if his earlier attempt at a joke had failed he's not sure drinking would help anything.]

At some point, after proper lubrication (which was to say, more), Maxwell climbs onto a chair and clears his throat, calling for attention. ...Not that he likely has to ask, what with the icing smeared, but still present across his face.

He pays it no mind.

"I would just like to say thank you, to all of you. This is my best-- first! --real birthday. I never would have... thank you. For being here. For being you. I'm glad you are."

Thanks to a lot more to drink, and all of it rather strong, Korrin is increasingly mellow and approaching the moment where she could almost call herself hammered. She raises her current mug of whatever at him and flashes a grin.

"Aww. Right back at you, softy. And get down here, that vitaar needs adjusting." Which is entirely true, but it might also be an excuse to pick him up like nothing, because she can and drinks and good people make her affectionate.

It was such an odd sensation, being a decently sized man, to be scooped like a child... He couldn't remember the last time his feet had left the ground under anything other than his own power.

It made him laugh, full and uninhabited, voice hiccuping lightly.

"Yes, ma'am."

When she started poking and prodding, he sat indulgently, asking, "So, does it mean anything, is it more just 'look at me and how terrifying I am?'"

That laugh is contagious and has Korrin renewing her own, though without the hiccups. Sometimes being a qunari has its perks; she won't deny that it can be fun to loom over people that otherwise consider themselves tall.

"Pfft, like there needs to be more meaning than that? You can go a long way on intimidation alone...well, if you have one that isn't made out of frosting. And if there is more, I've no idea. My parents didn't pass that on, but we can ask Iron Bull."

"Being delicious, or being terrifying... a tough call." He groped for the nearby table and slipped a spoon between them so he could see himself. His smile widened.

Utterly ridiculous, and absolutely wonderful.

"Best birthday ever," he murmured.

"So you say now. Next year, we'll find a way to top it." Korrin flashes a mischievous grin. Never underestimate her ability to find them the best sort of trouble, especially for birthdays.

Maxwell checks his reflection a moment longer, then tosses the spoon aside, meeting Korrin's grin with one of his own.

"I should have recovered by then. Go ahead and mark me down now."

Sam laughs lightly at his table as everyone takes turns on the crystal, sipping his drink slowly as icing started getting painted on several people, especially Maxwell. "Gavin, you should get a room!" he calls out when someone decides it was time to start using their tongue.

He laughs again, shaking his head slightly as he goes back to his drink, hoping he's under the radar of cake in the face. At least for a little bit - it did look like good cake.

"Oh I intend to," Gavin called back with a grin, before making his way around (and over) tables to plop himself down next to Sam. "You need some vitaar too, my friend, we can hardly leave you out--"

At least Gavin doesn't fall over or off of anything - he was half expecting it honestly, but perhaps alcohol made Gavin less accident prone? He's just about to take a drink when Gavin starts talking about 'vitaar', taking a moment to recall what that is, then blinking. "Oh, well I don't think I need it-"

Let's lose our minds

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