#brightwindsbarony

Tap Tap "If this doesn't work, my revenge willy be terrible" Sir Byrndan, knight of Daireann says

"No it won't," Byrnn says as he looks over the liquid coming out "Besides, they'll be the ones demanding revenge, after you blind them"

"I was ordered to partake in crafts, making whisky is a craft " The Daireann twin says "A very celtic one"

"I still think you what you have forming there is table varnish"

"Don't think I won't kill someone who looks like me" The Unseelie brother says

"Like we both haven't tried?" The Gwydion one grins

"What about you?" Byrndann asks

"Oh if your whiskey isn't lethal, I claim I helped and we submit it together"

"The hell you say"

"Fine fine...working on it" The Gwydion says "At this rate I'll be outshown by the Centaur girl."

"I've seen her profile, you're already outshown" His brother jabs lightly. Of course both being sidhe, they are gorgeous, but hey.

"One of the few girls close to our age and available around here and she's... anatomically challenging" Byrnn sighs

"Oh come on, it's not beastilaity as she's not a beast," His brother says

"True, but still.. mmm would one need a stool or.. damn. Anyway, even if that wasn't an odd challenge, It wouldn't be honorable" The Gwydion says

The Daireann looks up "How so? Would it tarnish your reputation?"

"Not for the reason you might think. It wouldn't be right as she's a fledge, and we have some authority over her," Brynn points out "That could be an abuse. She's not used to sidhe, we might overwhelm her"

"You fuss too much" Sir Byrndan says "Heck, Fiona train their fledges in such things"

"You tend to sneer at Fiona" Sir Brynn points out "Say they're crazed horn dogs"

"Most are," The Daireann says "But let's not pretend we have some odd human 'oh no the dean wants a favor for my A' thing going on. She's an immortal fae soul in there. And you're hardly 'over' her. "

A beat

And both speak at once "Unless I/You get that step stool"

"But seriously, nessa seems nice" Sir Brynn says

"I think I've got the yield right" Sir Byrndan smiles and pours out some clear fluid "here, drink this, see if it kills you"

A middle finger is lifted, but the shot is taken

***********************

"Crafts?" Otha says alarmed

Bix looks amused "Congratulations, you ARE the Seer after all" He sips his coffee

"I didn't think Seer would mean I had to show crafts or some talent at Imbolc" the Aeisn says with a huff "What am I to 'craft', build a cooking fire?"

Bix is enjoying this "Heavy is the head that wears the crown.."

"You know, the fact you're so big just means I'll feel less guilt popping you one" Her warning has that mix of ire and... oddly, friendship.

The two could not be much more different. He loves cars and mechanics. She loves nature and the hunt. he's a modernist troll. She's a traditionalist sidhe. Only their mutual training in Soothsay really was a common point, but it was common enough.

"Relax... the important thing is you try, in fact a bit of failure might even make the folks MORE accepting of you" he suggests

"Yay, humiliation builds bridges" She says in a display of sarcastic enthusiasm

"Sometimes" He says "Look, we all get our noses rubbed in it sometime. Mara was already as good as I was with cars. But suddenly she's a nocker and I am in the DUST... and that's okay"

"What if you made stuff like you use on the trail?" A little voice pipes up. "Snares or cairns or something?"

“Or is there something we could make out of some of the herbs and plants we gathered?”

She sips her (milky and sweet) coffee, enjoying the open air.

"Oh I..." The aesin says "You're both very kind but those aren't CRAFTS... "A pause "I guess the snares might be. And.. Nessi you don't need me for that. You're actually better at herbs than I am I think"

"Ooo, what about teas?"

"I think teas and coffees are going to either hope or Clarence" She says

"The sluagh talk and talk and talk about tea, so it must be a very advanced craft."

"..Well, whisper."

Bix says "True. They seem to have some religion based around it"

"They do not have a reli-" The aesin sighs "It is a ceremonnial tool to them, Bix. They don't worship it anymore than certain tribes 'worship' tobacco"

Irene giggles.

Bix says "And yet, it is called 'sacred' tobacco"

Otha looks to Irene "He's trying to provoke me now. I'm going to ignore him instead. What are you going to do on Imbolc, Irene? Get the music? Listen to the storytellers? Perhaps just try all the foods?"

"Oh, stories are my favorite! And food. And I hope there's dancing, but not, like, slow dancing but dancing where you can jump and spin."

At that, the oft distant gaze of the sidhe lights up with warmth "Of course there will be. Imbolc is a time of fire and fire leaps and dances, it shimmies and shakes wildly and happily when you feed it especially. So you jump and spin all you like as the music plays. It's the little spring guardians, the childlings, that we need most to remind us what the fire is about."

Bix hides a smile in his coffee. If anyone wondered why he tolerated the sidhe's bouts of superiority, this would be one of the reasons.