video ♪ well fuck this

[merchantprince]

Who: Varric
Broadcast: Open a/v on the network.
Action: Anyone on the Marsiva, since he hasn't been shuffled yet.
When: Dec 29th, or so.

[video;]

[The feed, quite frankly, is crap. The communicator's been bumped on midsentence and appears to be capturing video of an empty bunk.]

—e's ass! Where is Bianca?

[There is some mad shuffling offscreen. A door opens, then closes. The shuffling returns, and this time, there is... chest hair? Chest hair. Sorry. He picks up the communicator, examing it and turning it in his hands, and then finally looking straight into the camera.]

I may be the most desirable dwarf in all of Kirkwall, but that doesn't give anyone free pass to kidnap me twice in a row. Come out of hiding, hand over the crossbow, and maybe I'll feel generous enough not to shoot someone in the face on the way out. Maybe.

[His brows knit together. He leans back and rubs at his temple.]

Maker's breath... my head feels like it's full of cotton. Cotton and shit I've never seen before.

Comments

[merchantprince]

No shit, I met one that actually talked. Started rambling on and on about things no one's talked about in thousands of years. And then he pulled walls of fire and ice right out of his wrinkly ass. I almost died.

[Yeah fuck Orzammar.]

That's a shame. I guess I'll have to think of a plan B. I hate plan B.

One question, though. Were you Kaneis Minor before you could hold your ale? Just curious.

[wilder]

[Da fuq. He looks a bit surprised before he makes an amused sound] Well, I guess that's what you get for trying to chat up mindless flesh-eating monsters. Bullshit followed by fiery bullshit out of a wrinkly ass.

[He'll stick with just killing mindless flesh eating creatures]

I know. If you're familiar with guns, I think the ships with armories got something like those.

[He scoffs] Puns, really? That's the best you can do?

[merchantprince]

I don't usually make it a habit to chat up things that have been sleeping under ancient magical seals since before my ancestors were born. I prefer my audience to be living people. Or dogs, depending.

I think I know how to use a gun... [He sounds unsure.] They stuck something in my head so I'd know how to fight with them, but I still prefer arrows. Arrows make a point.

[SORRY ABOUT THE PUNS NOT SORRY]

If I were you, I'd ditch the last name-- unless you're planning to join the military.

Major Major. Haha.

[wilder]

No? Well I guess that's one less person to blame if we get invaded by zombies or whatever.

[....Goddess they brought in a pun master. Help them all.] Right. I'd still suggest training with it first before you try a fight. Bullet wounds are a pain in the ass to treat, even with magic.

And I'm afraid I've had my fill of military work. [If the Initiative even counts as that] Never even got a rank.

[merchantprince]

Sounds like that's happened to you before.

[Not even Andraste can save you now.] Don't worry, I'm not an amateur. I won't shoot myself in the foot. [besides, his feet are tiny.]

That's a disappointment. Did you at least find some girls who like the uniform?

[wilder]

Once. Zombiefied woodland critters.

[IF YOU SAY SO. But whatever, it's not like he knows much about crossbows or guns so he'll just take his word for it]

Not really, I worked at one of the infirmaries. No one likes seeing a doctor uniform unless they're bleeding out of some new hole.

[merchantprince]

Zombified woodland critters? You're saying you got invaded by tainted bunnies? [He laughs, a little disbelieving.] Shit, I'm putting this in my book.

And, I don't know. Make the uniform tighter and I'm sure there's someone willing to pay enough. You've got the looks to wear whatever the hell you put your mind to.

[wilder]

Yep, had to be one of the weirdest experiences- and I've seen some things. [But oh, what?] You write books?

[There's a small little chuckle] Thanks for noticing. Maybe I'll suggest that if they ever let us have a word here on the clothes given out.

[merchantprince]

So have I, but that's a new one. [An affirmative noise.] Yep, I've got a couple serials going. Hard in Hightown, Swords and Shields... Tale of the Champion got me in trouble. Worth it, though.

If you're hurting that bad for tailors, remind me to stay in the back row. I really can't afford to lose my coat.

[wilder]

Oh? Why'd it get in you in trouble?

Do all you can to save your coat then. Unless we hit the jackpot with the next planet, that thing's a one of a kind out here.

[merchantprince]

Got the attention of some... interesting people looking for the Champion herself. That was kidnapping number one. And after that whole ordeal was over, I woke up here. At least these clowns didn't drag me through space in a burlap sack, but... shit.

[He rubs his temple, remembering.]

This place just gets better and better.

[wilder]

[He was going to ask who this Champion was and why that'd require a kidnapping but, then Varric's latter statement confuses him]

Uh...shit what? Something up?

I mean, besides your penchant to be kidnapped as often as a princess in a fairy tale.

[merchantprince]

Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Shit just-- 'shit, my luck is terrible'. It's like the Maker pointed at Kirkwall and said, 'screw these several people in particular'.

[He shrugs.]

As for the kidnapping, I can't help being this irresistible. Looking good is a full time job that some people just can't appreciate.

[wilder]

[Oh okay cool then.] Deities do have a funny way of screwing people over like that.

[If he believed in them anyway]

Hear hear. Least they could do is shove you in a sack made out of nicer material than burlap. Jeez.

[merchantprince]

[Varric affects a highborn lady's complaining tone.]

'I simply must have a silk bag if I am to be kidnapped!'

[wilder]

[GODDESS. While Kaneis has grown to expect many things in his life- a gruff dwarf impersonating a noble lady isn't one of them. So yeah, that surprises him enough to actually gets him laughing]

Terrible.

[merchantprince]

[That's pretty cute. He's always happy to make someone laugh, though-- it's in his nature. He smirks.]

I've seen it.

[wilder]

[This guy could use a laugh anyhow. The laugh ends with a cough and a throat clearing since wow, he's so fallen out of practice with that sensation. But he still sounds amused.]

Have you now?

[merchantprince]

I have!

So, the Champion... Hawke. She did a lot of things for money, boredom, because people asked nicely. Sometimes that meant running errands when the city guard couldn't handle it. We were looking for a noble's wife who got kidnapped in Hightown during broad daylight. Really suspicious, right?

Anyway, we tracked the lady to the docks. It's nighttime. We're all a little on edge after the last string of kidnappings ended... poorly. Hawke kicks down the door, fingers on fire-- literally-- and she's about to light this place up.

She takes two steps in and stops dead.

[wilder]

[Oh, Kaneis always loved hearing a good story and this sounds exactly like one. He listens, clearly engaged by it as he makes himself comfortable in his chair.]

What'd she see?

[merchantprince]

[He goes on.]

A bad game of Diamondback, that's what. Six men around a table, cards scattered everywhere, everyone passed out or dead. One guy had a dagger sticking out of his throat; he died reaching for another man's bet. The other dead guy was missing an arm. The best part? He had the winning hand.

Not anymore, I guess.

So, Hawke finds the noblewoman in the back room. She's got a sack over her head, and her hands are tied, but otherwise she's fine... at least until we untie her.

She looks at the Champion and says, [affected Antivan accent] 'I was expecting at least cotton! I'm going to be itching for days-- how rude!'

[He shrugs.]

Nobility.

[wilder]

[He snorts some at the tale, shaking his head but grinning some at the tale.]

Geez! That sounds about right.

[merchantprince]

I take it stuck up nobles are universal.

[He feels sorry for you, Kaneis.]

[wilder]

Oh of course! Everywhere I've been anyway.

But it's no matter. I don't suppose you have any your books with you.

[merchantprince]

Of all the things to have in common.

[He grins.]

Actually, I make it a point to keep them on me. I've got one of each. Advertising, you know.