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]

You should. Books are just stories that people can tell themselves over and over again.

[He settles in a little. He's never met another storyteller, not quite like this. He's met Hahren, but he was an elf and not very friendly to non-elves. So.]

I know how this goes. Next thing you'll say is that you're a sort of retired adventurer, too.

[parricida]

Oh, hardly. I leave that to the foolishly brave and overly optimistic. No, I'm simply a tailor, that's all.

[merchantprince]

'Simply' a tailor? [A beat, and then he doesn't call Garak on his shit.] I thought they didn't exist out here. Someone was telling me that if I wrecked my coat, I couldn't get it repaired.

You have any samples? I could use a new shirt.

[parricida]

[He smirks at that-- no, not simply a tailor, but those who all him out on it so directly don't get to find out.]

Not quite yet-- but if you give me your coat, I can repair it now, and we can discuss what kind of shirt you might like.

[merchantprince]

[If you're gonna bullshit him, you'd damn well better be good at whatever you're bullshitting. That's his price.]

That'd be great. I think the seam on my right sleeve is starting to come undone.

I'm Varric, by the way. Nice to meet you.

[parricida]

Oh, an easy fix. I say I ought to start teaching a course; the entire fleet seems to be helpless.

Garak. A pleasure. Might I tempt you to a drink on the planet surface?

[merchantprince]

Nah, I'm just lazy. Why do myself what I can pay other people to do better?

[Yep, he's a dwarf.]

A drink. I'd kill for a drink. I'm still on the big ship though; I don't think I'm allowed to leave until they dump me onto one of the smaller ones.

[parricida]

Ah, then I suppose we'll have to wait. I don't believe it's more than a few days, though.

[merchantprince]

I'll take you up on that offer when I locate a ship and some beer.