open mingle 🍷 grand opening

[discourtesies]

Who: Diluc Ragnvindr, Barok van Zieks, and anybody!
Where: At Day's End bar and winery
What: After a few months of preparation, Diluc and Barok's Fine Drinking Establishment is finally ready to open! So they're doing that. With a party! Bring your own toplevel.
When: A few days before the flower festival
Warnings: I mean. Alcohol?

Welcome to the grand opening of At Day’s End!

As a nod to the upcoming holiday, the bar has been decorated with carefully arranged flowers in addition to the planned garlands and lanterns to evoke a comfortable but festive atmosphere. Although the pair didn't exactly anticipate the sudden influx of emotion-steampunk-land natives, they have temporarily removed a few tables in the interest of opening up the floor for more visitors, and the weather is thankfully warm enough for the doors to remain open. Attendees are encouraged to try small tastes of different drinks before deciding upon a full glass, giving an easy opportunity to mingle with others.

At Day’s End serves a variety of locally-crafted wines and spirits as well as non-alcoholic options such as juice, coffee, and tea.

• ALCOHOLIC SPECIALS
  
  • Cider Special: Applebloom Cider - Apple cider brewed with apple blossoms. Light and floral. Usually only available during Windblume in Mondstadt, and similarly will only be available during the month of April in Songerein.
    
  • Red Wine Special: Midnight Harvest - A sweet red wine with a very fruity taste and hints of nutty flavor.
    
  • White Wine Special: Winter Moon - A dry, crisp white wine for those seeking a less sweet drinking experience.
    
  • Cocktail: Thorns of Springtime - Whiskey, honey, chamomile tea, and elderflower liqueur. Served over ice.
  
  
• NON-ALCOHOLIC SPECIALS
  
  • Gray Valley Sunset: It’s just fruit punch with a fancy name.
    
  • Rosé Bloom: A mix of juices made from only the finest red and white grapes, according to van Zieks.

Comments

[roseofmay]

I would put stock into anyone sharing their opinion besides myself. I am not arrogant enough to assume my opinion is the only one that matters.

[Besides, she knows fully well that she could potentially be biased when it comes to Dohalim or anyone else she considers remotely close in this world. As such, she has no idea at what point she may become blind to some of the flaws that any of these individuals hold. She'd love to claim she can view them all objectively, but she has no idea how true that actually is.

Besides, the moment he talks a little more about his own skill set of observation and deduction, she knows he has a point. He's a detective, after all, and though Beatrix isn't fully certain what one of those might be, she gets the feeling he prides himself on his observational skills. One can learn quite a lot from simply watching and listening. Isn't that what she does in a great deal of her spars?]

You need not report your findings to me. Perhaps to Mikotoba, however. Or whoever should be a part of this council. If Dohalim suits it, then we ought to say so. When that time comes.

[After a pause, she wears the smallest, most subdued smile.] No absolutes. [She's gotten the picture very well that he might not be the best at meeting those.]

[thegamesafoot]

Ah, I see you wish to avoid my consultation fee. Perhaps some other time you will formally engage my services. [ This is said cheekily, before remembering he still has a handful of calling cards. He produces one for Beatrix, a bit ragged from its time in his pocket, but neatly letterpressed with his name, emblem, "Consulting Detective" and the address "221B Baker Street, London"—the last of which has been crossed out in favor of a hastily-written "Around Reverein." ]

I have no qualms about voicing my opinions in a public forum—about him or other worthy candidates. [ He shifts his weight from the table and gestures broadly. ] In fact, I find it quite exciting to be present for the birth of a new, local government. I cannot wait to witness its turbulent youth—to watch as it struggles against partisanship and the constant threat of dysfunction!

[roseofmay]

[He offers her his card, which at first, she has no idea what it even is. She reads it thoroughly, however, front and back, wondering why such a thing is even necessary. It's not as though she needs a card to explain who she is. Maybe Herlock's reputation just isn't on the same level as her own. Or his world is considerably more massive.

It is likely an unfair comparison, she decides rather quickly.

Eventually, she moves her eyes from the details of his card back onto his face, touched occasionally by his allergies and all.]

'Exciting' is not necessarily how I would put it. This proposition is very likely to birth apprehension among many here, and it is not even something I would be inclined to sway otherwise. People in power can be a frightful thing. I do not think there is anything enjoyable about potentially being faced with a consistent line of... dysfunction, as you so aptly put it.

[But maybe he only feels this way because he's not likely to be so directly involved. Perhaps it's all just a dinner and a show.]

[thegamesafoot]

[ Those in his world who are still starstruck by the legendary detective might consider the scrap of paper a valuable memento. And those who aren't? Might as well be burdened by some trash. Sorry, General. Such is the duality of Sholmes. ]

I suppose that did come across as rather pessimistic, didn't it? Quite the contrary, I believe such obvious tension is healthy. When governing bodies—or their constituency—become too copacetic ... Well, I can't help but wonder if there are dark currents under that deceptively still surface.

[ Also very pessimistic of him? But he has certain professional prerogatives. And, you know, vividly fresh thoughts of judicial officials sanctioning a decade of extralegal executions to help impose law and order. ]

[roseofmay]

[It's either out of respect or simply something she means to research a bit more on later, but regardless of the reason, Beatrix tucks away his card into her very professional ensemble (which is, by comparison, very much not at all professional next to him).]

Realistic, is how I would put it. Pessimistic, perhaps. But it might as well be the same thing as realism. [Or that's just how she sees it, anyway. Beatrix hasn't been known for being particularly... optimistic. She doesn't employ false hope. Or much hope, in general.] Either way, you have a point. Even in the smoothest operation, it is oft only for appearances. No matter how we go about it, it is not going to be perfect.

[thegamesafoot]

Regardless, this scrappy band of intrepid pioneers will weather the challenges of community politics, I'm quite certain. [ There. A bit of optimism, even if his tone is too theatrically chipper to be believably genuine. ]

Now, I have been holding in about a dozen sneezes and they will soon breach containment with terrific violence—if you'll excuse me, I must remove myself from polite company.

[ Sholmes' kerchief reappears to cup his lower face, muffling his parting words: ] It's been a pleasure, General Beatrix. Till next we meet!

[roseofmay]

['Scrappy' is certainly the way to put it. Optimism and realism wrapped into one, though she suspects heavily that he has only said it perhaps to please her. Although few things seem to please Beatrix.

The furrow of brow ensues as he continues and she's at least minutely grateful he doesn't have the intentions to unleash said sneezes on her. He's met with a subtle dip of her chin in an initially wordless acknowledgement. Until—]

Likewise. I would not dislike spending time with you again. I cannot imagine this to be the last time we will see one another.

[Honestly, the eccentricities of the man are more than intriguing enough to keep her attention fastened upon him. She doubts she's the only one to think so either. What a strange, fascinating man.]

[thegamesafoot]

[ Sholmes holds his breath to fight down the laugh that threatens to break the precarious sneeze dam. He's not fool enough to think that he's the most pleasant company, especially to such thoroughly sober types—a bit like a pesky crow annoying an imposing eagle. As such, her hesitantly positive wording takes him by surprise.

Fingers pinching the brim of his cap, he bows as far as he dares then says, strained and nasal: ] God willing, my sinuses will be less disruptive in future. À bientôt!

[ With that, he turns on his heel and hastily shoulders his way between the other guests. Through the still-open doors, one can clearly hear a series of rapid-fire, dad-worthy sneezes. He was not exaggerating. ]