mag/cressida/kiernan/open | evening
For a week that didn't have him leaving on a single mission for the Riders, it'd been quite the eventful one for Kiernan. Between visiting his father, his date with Mag, confirming housing for the winter with Gillian, going out flying with Ari, and Audrey's accident, he was almost glad for it. Most everything that had happened over the course of the week had been wonderful, but Audrey's accident did put a damper on things, he had to admit. Unfortunately, he felt helpless in the clinic waiting room; many people came in to check on Ari and Audrey, and there was nothing he could say that hadn't already been said. After a while he left Ari to Aspel's care, for she would be much better at it than he would (he hoped, anyway, but he was not so crass as to linger to see for himself) and after taking a walk in the park to clear his mind, he thought that the celebration at Bahamut might be just what he needed.
He'd barely made it past the doors before he found himself with a mug of mead in one hand and a chicken leg in another, and he could barely get a few words to Yurgen before the Ranger was drawn away by others. Not that Kiernan was complaining, of course; he only regretted that for most of his years as a Ranger, he'd spent these celebrations drinking alone in the corner, sometimes with Zacheus, leaving others to their fun while he sulked. Anymore, he loved to make up for it where he could. Normally he'd be with the other Riders in song, but his nose demanded that he go elsewhere to start.
The scent led him to a pit just outside, and he wondered how he missed it before. There he saw a group of dragoons -- some of whom he trained, others of whom he worked with -- and Cressida and Mag, and he couldn't help his smile growing wider at the sight. He invited himself into the circle just as Garrett received his kick in the shin, and though Kiernan didn't know the circumstances he couldn't help but to join in with the laughter.
"Let me guess: he deserved that," he said with a wink at Cressida as he settled next to Mag. "Now what's going on here, where's the apple that's supposed to go inside that pig's mouth? Tsk, tsk, it's like no one here knows how to cook."
Not that Kiernan was better versed in it; he could cook, yes, but he was no Theo Finch or master chef. His food was edible, not disgusting, and he could make it without burning anything down. What more skill did he need than that? But a jest was a jest, and he took a swig of the mead and laughed after he swallowed it down. Mead was a far cry from one of his favorite drinks, but he happily drank it all the same.