Iris and Heimdallr heading to Pub
Blythe didn't understand it, but she felt incredibly loose and relaxed. No matter what happened, she expected tonight to make up for the great failure that was her birthday. And she was going to go spend it with Jonathan, who seemed to know his way around good liquor, as well as watch Aria's father's band play their Irish folk-rock songs.
Throwing her green mini-dress on and buttoning tens of clover hairclips into her up-do, she found a good jacket and observed herself. Decent! Lovely. She knew that Saint Patrick's day was greatly revered for many things, but mostly great for alcoholic revelry. And while she knew she could drink any grown man under the table, she still held fast to what she'd first insisted: that she would be a designated escort, if need be. All she wanted to do - all her tingling senses told her was awesome - was to just have lots of fun.
Deciding to wait outside, Blythe descended the stairs and stood outside her complex, waiting for Jonathan to show up.