A cry for help

[thespaceopera]

[a distress call has been tracked across the void, finally leading back to the source. a hulking crippled ship, teeming with hostile alien life, now lies before you.

what do you do? do you dive in or hang back? are you here to learn, play, build, or observe?

however you choose to proceed, your audience is out there somewhere, watching.]


ooc: here is a good ol' themed mingle to get you all started! and don't feel limited by the prompts and what they describe--they're just there as idea-starters, so feel free to go anywhere and do anything.

have fun!

info post→ here

Comments

[pirasea]

[Isabela is probably just as disgusting, so he's in good company. Not that he wouldn't be regardless. Isabela is always good company. She holds out her hand for whatever it is Hawke's pouring without really looking. As long as it's some form of alcohol she'll take it.]

You know, we really ought to have a reunion at some point if we ever get back. Perhaps we could slaughter a few spiders on Sundermount.

[forcemageure]

[ It's ...bourbon! Because Hawke had that in some other thread - possibly while discussing Isbela's bits with Ray actually - so why not now. He may also be pouring without looking, so it's great how good at drinking these two are. ]

Sure! [ If there's any palpable wincing at that statement it's mostly hidden because his head is down on his arms. He raises it the tiniest bit, one blue eye brightly insouciant. ]

I can't imagine Aveline would like anything better than to sneak us all back into Kirkwall for just that reason.

[ Fucking spiders. He could live like eight more lives and never kill enough of them. ]

Otherwise we'd probably need false mustaches and silly hats. Except for you, of course.

[pirasea]

[She takes the glass he's poured, knocking it back easily. She's as good at drinking as he is at pouring, and much faster too.]

I'm sure she'd be delighted. She could throw one of her dinner parties in our honour. [Maybe she'll even turn up to this theoretical dinner.

She nudges him with her now empty glass, looking stern all of a sudden.]

I hope you aren't implying my hat is silly, Hawke. I'm dreadfully proud of it, you know.

Said hat it next to them as they speak. And if Hawke keeps that up he'll never get to borrow it.]

[forcemageure]

[ Well, what else does one do after a fetch quest good bout of exploration and a little murder?

...okay in the past they might also have had ridiculously acrobatic sex, but never mind. ]

All right, then, you could have a very dignified hat, to offset all the silly ones.

[ He tips his glass at her, tacitly inquiring with raised brows whether or not that's acceptable. Since he totally wants to borrow the hat sometime. ]

[pirasea]

[Hey, it's not her fault that Hawke suddenly discovered he was capable of feelings. In the absence of admittedly magnificent sex, though, drinking is a more than acceptable substitute. Never mind that drinking was probably also involved in their previous arrangement.]

Well, one of us has to be taken seriously.

[So... yes. Acceptable.]

[forcemageure]

In Kirkwall? [ He laughs; it is entirely not bitter. ...okay it's like one percent bitter. Whatever, he will cover that by drinking. ]

That'd be the problem, wouldn't it? Taking us all seriously enough to clap us in irons.

[ Since, you know. The city is still kind of a mess, and everyone needs to blame someone. But enough about that. ]

So! While we're here. What have you been up to the last ...three years or so. You never call, you never write...

[pirasea]

[She shakes her head fondly, taking the bottle to pour herself more booze. Probably rather more than was ever meant to be in one glass at a time so far as bourbon's concerned. No one tell her.]

My dear, until recently I didn't have the luxury of calling you, though I suppose I might have made time for a few more letters. Perhaps. Pirating is extremely time consuming, you know. Not to mention you're a hard man to track down.

[She sighs. Not wistfully. Not even remotely. Where would you get an idea like that?] You really should have joined my crew if you wanted to keep up with me. We'd have had such adventures.

[forcemageure]

[ Hawke waves a hand indulgently at the idea that a little thing like calling devices not existing - and still at this juncture seeming more like magic than anything else - should have prevented this.

Oh no, he can see the bottom of his glass. Neither of them should attempt to clean off like this, by the way, because drunk + hot shower is a quick recipe for death. ...more death, in Hawke's case. BUT NEVER MIND we are not talking about that. What are we talking about. Drinking! He pours again. Delicious*. ]

Trust me, I thought about it every time I ended up camping in a cave and thought things like 'Maker, what is that smell,' or 'I hope whatever just dripped on me is water.' But Thud would've been barking mad inside a week, cooped up like that. You wouldn't thank me for a stir-crazy Mabari on your hands, trust me on that, too.

[ Barking mad get it. He's amazing. ]

[* despite what the american south would have you believe, no bourbon is delicious ]

[pirasea]

[Clean up? Who's talking about clean up? Not Isabela. Perhaps when there's less bourbon in that bottle and she starts paying more attention to things like the fact there's bug goo where she's leaning. And everywhere else for that matter.

Honestly, she would probably laugh at that even if she hadn't been drinking. She has an appreciation for terrible jokes that matches Hawke's own.]

I always thought he was already. Surely he couldn't get that much worse than usual.

he's actually pouring alcohol in this icon, you just can't see it in frame

[forcemageure]

I imagine that's because you've blocked out as many memories of Gamlen's house as possible. Can't say I'd blame you, if that were the case. I still get itchy just thinking about it. Years later!

[ That's why they're besties. That and a shared penchant for magnificent asses. ]

Hopefully directly into Isabela's mouth.

[pirasea]

[She nudges him with her knee, smiling widely even as she drinks from her overfilled glass. It's a talent. She's had a lot of practice multitasking while drinking over the years.]

I'm still upset you moved from there, you know. High Town was so boring. I think I'd even take your uncle over being stuck there.

sure, she can just lie on the table and they'll scandalize the kitchen horribly

[forcemageure]

You only say that because you never lived with him. Weren't you the one who got so fed up with all his amorous attention you wanted me to talk to him for you?* You! Fed up with attention from anybody! Imagine what it would have been like if you'd been stuck inside the same two and a half mysteriously yellow-walled rooms all the time.

[ Seriously. He nudges back, because just because they are not sleeping together anymore does not mean they can't play adorable touching games. ]

* this is DLC banter, but who cares

Just like old times with added clothes.

[pirasea]

[She raises her eyebrows at that.]

I was assuming his interactions with you were a little more familial than they were with me. If he was anywhere near as friendly with you as he was with me you have my deepest sympathies.

psh surely there were clothes sometimes, like when no one could be bothered to remove most of them

[forcemageure]

[ Hawke pulls such an incredible face that for a moment there is a distinct resemblance to Carver. ]

Hand over one of your stabby things for just a moment, if you would.

[ Just wait for it. ]

A valid point!

[pirasea]

[She's not normally one for sharing her weapons, but for Hawke she'll make an exception. One stabby thing coming up.]

I do hope you aren't planning to use that on yourself. Not when we've barely had the chance to reacquaint ourselves.

ikr

[forcemageure]

I was, in fact.

[ He lefts the ...stabby thing (what is the difference between a knife and a dagger? was that ever explained?) in one hand, in such a way that demonstrates he is definitely not a rogue. ]

The only thing that can make life worth living again is to stab the images you've just inspired out of my brain.

[ Just. Take that away from him, he's tipsy. They've had like 3/4 of this bottle. ]

[pirasea]

[That is not how you hold a dagger, Hawke. Which is also a knife for your education. Not all knives would be daggers, but this one is.

Isabela eyes him critically, though makes no move to remove anything from him, either of the pointy or alcoholic variety.]

You'll never remove anyone's brains holding it like that. Chunks of flesh maybe. You could probably take out your eyes if you wanted, but I wouldn't recommend it.

[forcemageure]

[ The question has been raised elsewhere, how it is that these two have survived any of their previous bouts of drinking, but it bears repeating in narrative. ]

Damn. I don't think going for the eyes would help, it's far too late for that. All in here, you see.

[ He taps a forefinger against his temple, thankfully not with the hand holding the dagger, although it was kind of a near thing. ]

[pirasea]

[Isabela raises her glass, slopping a good amount of the content everywhere. Not that she seems to notice.]

It's your own fault, you know. You were the one who brought it up.

[Because that was clearly exactly what he meant.]

[forcemageure]

I brought up no such thing. But in conversation with you we were bound to end up here eventually. [ A beat. ] Or somewhere even more horrible. You're like darkspawn, except instead of spreading corruption and filth, you ...well, spread corruption and filth. Just of the more fun sort, generally. Generally being when it's not about my uncle.

[ This is probably a compliment. ]

[pirasea]

[Why wouldn't it be? Isabela certainly seems to take it as such despite the generally negative connotations of darkspawn.]

I'm also much more attractive. Although after the day we've had I'm starting to feel as though I might smell like one. What do you think?

[She frowns down at herself, then presents him with the arm that isn't currently occupied with holding booze for sniffing. Hawke: official judge of when baths are needed, both in Thedas and in space.]

[forcemageure]

[ Hawke sniffs ...cautiously. These are the duties he must assume as a friend. ]

Well, you are emitting the gentle aroma of bug glop a bit, but so's everything in here.

[ Honestly, whose fault is that. ]

[pirasea]

Well, it would be a little pointless to bother cleaning it off in that case. It would only end up back on me again.

[Not if you cleaned everything, Isabela.]

[forcemageure]

What, are you planning to clean things by giving them stern looks?

[ Hawke can read narrative--no he can't. OR CAN Hno. ]