Aspel Cassul: When in doubt, Aspel! (weaponry) wrote in emillion, |
Mag needed a distraction, and there were only so many stories of her own stupidity, or ridiculousness of others Aspel could recant before it all began seeming just endlessly tiring. The smith, while she could talk, wasn’t exactly a chatterbox - like someone else she knew - but she’d kept up well bringing Mag food, playing random games, general distractions, and egging the other woman into talking when it seemed appropriate or best. However, there was only so much of that anyone could do. Thankfully, the Festival was the perfect excuse, and out - in a sense - to distract them both, and allow Aspel to stop scrambling for things to distract her poor friend with. Thusly, Mag had been pushed and prodded until she’d gotten herself together, and Aspel had made sure they both were down where the festivities could wash over them. Perhaps this would allow them to forget about their respective worries for just a bit. “So, what bribery shall I owe you for forcing you out this eve?” It was an easy joke, and who knew, maybe if the right bribe was taken, they’d both be having a grand old time before too long. The past days had gone by in a haze. Every day she’d woken up, eaten a meager breakfast and tried to distract herself with one of her books, with varying degrees of success. Even the Violet Saint Clair novel hadn’t really caught her interest, when usually she would have been in stitches by the second paragraph of golden tresses and obsidian orbs. She knew getting out of the house would have done her good, but training was out of the question—she wouldn’t be able to muster up the necessary concentration, and the last thing she wanted was to injure someone else or herself because her head was in the clouds. Aspel had been coming by every day, bringing food and trying to cheer her up. Mag welcomed the distraction, and she’d made an honest effort to get her worries out of her mind, but even if Aspel’s antics managed to distract her for a while, it was only temporary. This mood would pass, Mag knew—and when it did, she was taking Aspel out for drinks. Aspel had been through her through all the hard times—she’d even been present when she’d failed to save Warwick—and without her support, Mag would have been even more of a mess than she was then. Mag hadn’t originally planned to attend the festival—too many people around, and she didn’t think she was capable of being her usual self, and didn’t feel like explaining what was wrong. Still, she would be with Aspel. Just two friends enjoying the Festival. She wasn’t going to keep Aspel locked up when there was a festival outside (she was sure that if she told Aspel to go by herself, her friend would refuse) and the fresh air would do her good. So she let Aspel usher her out of the apartment, and they headed over to the Harvest Festival. “Bribery? Oh, I think I’m doing this wrong. If you’re going to bribe me, don’t you have to do that before I do what you want me to do?” Joking with Aspel was easy, and the fresh air was doing Mag good; seeing everyone around her in such high spirits was contagious. “Though I guess my Marlboro plush needs a chocobo to keep it company.” She looped her arm through Aspel’s with a smile. He would manage to not get too beat up during the exhibition match and he was in lovely company, so, all in all, Drake was having a pretty good day. He had expected Ari to be out with Aspel, so when she’d asked him about it, he had been surprised, but pleasantly so. They’d had so little opportunity to see each other lately - outside of fueling rumors, anyway - that he was more than willing to walk around the festival with her. And it wasn’t like he’d had much to do anyway. His mother had be disappointed that he wouldn’t be coming home for the holiday, but she’d deal. Which left him with no plans after the festival. He was considering asking Ari to come back with him and he’d make her dinner, but for some reason, he was hesitant to do so. “What next?” he asked her, nudging her in the side. They’d seen most of the sights by now, and unless she wanted a plushie - he really hoped not - there wasn’t much left to do except eat and drink. |