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"Heads up, I'm having a party tomorrow evening, just across the water."
Chip didn't celebrate his birthday anymore.
It seemed to be a common sentiment among his friends that birthdays weren't acknowledged. Jay had spent her birthdays locked in her room, tiny hands pressed over her ears as her parents bickered over which of them messed up the cake order ("Do you know how hard I work to provide for this family?" "And yet you can't even remember how old she's turning!") whereas Gillion had been taught that it was somehow both normal and heroic to not celebrate one's self, especially not over something as minor as ageing.
Chip himself had engaged in parties and events all throughout his formative years, but the concept had become tainted after a number of years as Price's hand where parties were synonymous with rowdy drinking and fist fights. At one point, parties became about celebrating his leadership rather than celebrating his brother.
All that to say, Chip was over the concept of birthday parties. And Gillion was more than aware.
"Forgive me for asking this, Chip, but when did you start engaging in parties again?"
"I didn't!"
"I do not follow."
And yet, for all of Chip's hesitation to celebrate his age, his birthday was going to happen anyway. Life moved on and always seemed to drag Chip's limp body behind.
So for this birthday, Chip had plans for a gift that was going to gift him much more than a silly party and an ale pint. Something a little more... Explosive.
"What exactly do you mean by explosive?" Did he say that out loud?
"Listen, Gill, if I explain the plan, you're going to try to stop me."
"That's usually an indicator that it's not that great of a plan."
Chip had spent the day rigging a field with explosives, hands grimy from tearing clusters of dirt out of the ground and placing TNT in the gaps left behind. Sweating from the labour, he'd proceeded to place logs around a bonfire, with a glass dome built over the top of the party (Lizzie had developed a nasty habit over the last couple of weeks, of dropping her equally explosive presents for him out of the sky.)
Now all that he had left to worry about was where Jay had kept his enchanter hidden for the last week, her sudden bout of amnesia, and keeping his favourite fish away from his attempt at arson. Maybe he could convince Gillion to make him a birthday cake...
"Can you just promise me you'll stay to the side, or not come to the party? Gill, I really need you for these final few weeks."
"It's unfair of you to be dishonest to our allies about this party, Chip. It's not a fair fight if the weapons are only accessible to you."
"Would it make you feel better if I told you that The Bad Boys are almost definitely going to try to bomb me before I have the chance?"
"Not particularly."
Chip sighs, "Man, can we argue over this after my birthday instead? I really need the time, Gill."
"If you need the time so badly, I will lay down my life for you in an instant."
"And that worries me!"
"I have the most time, it is only strategic. We could make a game for it, it doesn't have to be some big sacrifice! Let me do this for you, Chip."
"You've given me more than enough, Gill. Please, just stay away from this party. And avoid Caspian, I think he hates you."
"I've noticed that, actually. It's odd because I have no issue with him at all."
"One of Lizzie's lot. They've all gone murder happy. You'd never catch me planning mass homicide, eh?"
"I'm going to ignore that you said that."