✿ THE HOUSE ✿
Adra's house is a cozy stone cottage on the outskirts of Caissa, close enough to the sea that one can hear the breaking waves throughout the day.
This afternoon, there's light, cool rain falling intermittently, tapping in a rhythm at the windows and roof. Fortunately, the kitchen is warm, bright, and welcoming. Its counters and tables are covered with freshly prepared foods of all kinds, and there are plenty of chairs for visitors who might like to sit and relax.
A door from the kitchen leads out into the garden, which is not quite yet fully landscaped, but which boasts a promising array of flowers (orchids, roses, lilies, tulips, etc) and herbs. Adra's also cultivating strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, and so on; the strawberries and cherries in particular are ripe for picking. Adra has strung enchanted, floating fairy lights all over the garden; they cast a soft, ethereal glow over the paths and carefully tended patches of greenery. At the garden's center, there's a clear pond filled with red and pink lotus blossoms.
Back inside, a visitor might like to rest in the den. There's a roaring fire in the hearth, and sitting near it for a short while offers a boost to the weary spirit. Soft, plush chairs and couches fill this room, making it ideal for lounging. The tables are covered with books borrowed somewhat indiscreetly from the library; they deal largely with the magic and history of Enprise.
Adjacent to the den is Adra's study. In here are half-empty bookshelves and antique rolling desk covered with neat stacks of papers, boxes of quills, and numerous pots of ink, each one in different, brilliant colors. His journal is somewhere here, too ...
Finally, down the hall one will find a half bathroom and, across from that, the door to the second bedroom--belonging to one Gilgamesh. The master bedroom, belonging to Adrasteius, is at the end of the hall. There's a full bath in there, but this room is definitively locked.
✿ THE SPREAD ✿
As usual, Adra's gone over the top in his preparations. For drinks, there's a sweet, refreshing punch; delicately pink and decorated with sprigs of flowers. There are pitchers of sparkling ice water, jugs of wine and spiced mead, and plenty of glasses to share.
Though Adra does not eat meat himself, he prepares it ably; there's a honey-glazed, roasted turkey in the center of the table, right beside a carving board heavy with seasoned, hand-carved slices of fresh beef. Red potatoes, bright with paprika and salt and glistening with pats of melting butter, are arranged in wedges around the turkey. There are woven baskets of steaming rolls, flaky and soft; platters of carrots and broccoli and asparagus; enormous bowls of belly-warming soup filled with thick wheat noodles, sliced egg, and shredded cabbage. At one end of the table, there's a plate of burgers, along with small dishes to fix them--bacon, crispy onions, sauteed mushrooms, and all the necessary condiments. He has plates of savory pies, filled with beef or pork or chicken; steamed and fried dumplings stuffed with meat and spring vegetables, plump and perfectly shaped.
The desserts are similarly extravagant: he has a plate of meticulously crafted flower and fruit cakes; some look like ripe, blushing peaches, others, he shaped into red orchids, lotus blossoms, or golden roses. He's made a chocolate tart so dark that its smooth, sugar-dusted surface shimmers reflectively in the overhead light. Cupcakes of all kinds are scattered here and there, as well as an extravagant, multi-tiered confection dripping with fudge sauce, encrusted with sliced strawberries and vibrantly colorful, fondant flower petals. There are loaves of warm banana bread; fruit tarts glittery with rainbow sugar crystals; and, under glass, an assortment of flavorful macarons baked to look like something plucked right from the starry sky.
But the most important thing about Adra's lavish banquet is this: all of the food is enchanted, laced with magic meant to inspire feelings of comfort and security. Eating it may conjure up familiar, welcome sensations or memories--nothing sorrowful or painful, and only as specific as you'd like. It could be something as simple as the feeling of a fuzzy blanket on a cold day, or as complex as a particular soothing memory. In all cases, the intended effect is meant to inspire calm and ease.
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no subject
It's little wonder they get along so well, being so nihilistic.]
It's only social rules. Never written, but iron clad.
[She makes a soft noise of amusement. She could have some fun, teasing Adrateius a little more.]
They don't look so bad on the surface, but we don't know them. We can read all the books we want, but we can only rely on our prior experiences-here and home-for judgement.
But from what little I gathered is...the public is fickle. But that's no surprise.
no subject
Books can only paint so many perspectives. I prefer to talk with those affected... even if they are [ - as she says, ] fickle. Though what makes you say so? [ He has a few guesses, but he'd like to hear it. ]
no subject
The aftermath of the war. In the place we won, I was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of presents. I had citizens begging for autographs' or stuffing my sash with colle.
And where we lost, the cleanup efforts...they were staring.
I had to be "rescued"
[She used air quotes, since she could hold her own, and Levi could guess that by now,]
By burly men who verbally expressed displeasure at my ability to save them.
no subject
Because of the vocal majority, it's not always consistent. Because they know so little of each other personally, because they have expectations to meet, opinions can quickly change. ]
Of course. That's what it's like to be in the public eye - [ especially ] - when you view them as one mass. The way they see us is the same.
[ "Heroes," not individuals. ]
But it may not suit you to get to know them.
no subject
I see no reason to get to know them, on a personal level.
[She's quick to tell him this. He might know a few heroes who would have this difficulty, but she doesn't.]
Even if I wore civilan clothing, they would still see me as a "hero" and not a person. These, [She motioned to her hair and eyes] do not help.
no subject
The easier option is to just not give a shit.
[ And really, why should they. ]
no subject
[That's certainly a way to put it. In any case, her shoulders lift in a shrug.]
I don't think it will be difficult for me. After all, it's not as if they would want to get to know us on a personal level.
[They want to have braggarts rights that they know this or that hero at best.]