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driftfleet2016-01-23 08:34 am
ofkirkwall) wrote in driftfleet2016-01-23 08:34 am
Entry tags:
001.
Who: Marian Hawke & you.
Broadcast: Fleet wide
Action: MARSIVA, aww yeah.
When: Now, until shuffle.
[ Maker's balls it is cold.
Waking up in strange places isn't so unusual in Marian's Hawke's life, she's fairly to it by now, so she barely bats a sleepy eye when she rolls over and curls in on herself. Half mumbled words tumbling from her lips in a incoherently mess, fingers curling around whatever they can grasp in a desperate attempt to conserve heat. This continues for a good few moments until the woman manages to roll straight onto the cold metal floor. ]
─Aahh! [ There is no better way of waking someone up than a quick drop onto a cold floor - well... a bucket of water would have done as well, but thankfully there are no buckets to be seen.
It has her awake, alert as someone still gluggy with sleep can be, mope of black hair strewn about this way and that. Heart thundering in her chest a hand raises to rub the sleep from her eyes, jaw lock in evident irritation. ] Stupid Wardens, how is anyone supposed to sleep in a cot so small... [ The realization comes slow, the metal walls of the ship close enough to blurred vision to make her think she's still in Weisshaupt waiting for old men to pull their collective sticks from their asses. ] Never thought I'd miss camping out in caves─Hello...
[ Ah, there it is, that little light bulb that flicks on and says "This isn't Weisshaupt, Toto" - or it would if Hawke had any any who or what Toto was. Regardless she inhales sharp and reaches for her staff, smooth wood a comfort as she uses it to stands herself up. ]
I see we've gone to the Grey Wardens school of decor. [ A bit boring she has to say, rather bland. No dirt, no drunkard puking his guts out in the corner, no wet dog smell. Frankly it is kind of disappointing.
Once her bearings are gather it takes Hawke all of a few moments to start snooping, trying to find something - anything - to tell her where exactly she's managed to find herself now. Eventually her combings finds her a device, odd little thing that she promptly starts playing with legs across upon the very bench she woke up on. A few hours of poking has her come to a few conclusions, one; this thing is weird, two; she can swear she has seen something like this before, and three; she can talk to people on it. At least she thinks she can.
A wild guess as her flick the feed on, though the camera is at a slight angle, all smiles and more than obvious bed hair. You'd almost have no idea that she is perhaps a little rattled by all of this with the way she looks. ]
Good morning, or is it afternoon? Honestly I have no bloody idea, I tried to fun the sun but it seems that I have misplaced that alongside of almost everything else. No matter, I'm sure it'll all turn up somehow.
I'm Hawke, by the way - best to get introductions out of the way early - and I have two very important questions to ask you... [ Trailing off the screws up her nose slightly before shaking her head. ] Is there a bar nearby and how can I get there?
Broadcast: Fleet wide
Action: MARSIVA, aww yeah.
When: Now, until shuffle.
[ Maker's balls it is cold.
Waking up in strange places isn't so unusual in Marian's Hawke's life, she's fairly to it by now, so she barely bats a sleepy eye when she rolls over and curls in on herself. Half mumbled words tumbling from her lips in a incoherently mess, fingers curling around whatever they can grasp in a desperate attempt to conserve heat. This continues for a good few moments until the woman manages to roll straight onto the cold metal floor. ]
─Aahh! [ There is no better way of waking someone up than a quick drop onto a cold floor - well... a bucket of water would have done as well, but thankfully there are no buckets to be seen.
It has her awake, alert as someone still gluggy with sleep can be, mope of black hair strewn about this way and that. Heart thundering in her chest a hand raises to rub the sleep from her eyes, jaw lock in evident irritation. ] Stupid Wardens, how is anyone supposed to sleep in a cot so small... [ The realization comes slow, the metal walls of the ship close enough to blurred vision to make her think she's still in Weisshaupt waiting for old men to pull their collective sticks from their asses. ] Never thought I'd miss camping out in caves─Hello...
[ Ah, there it is, that little light bulb that flicks on and says "This isn't Weisshaupt, Toto" - or it would if Hawke had any any who or what Toto was. Regardless she inhales sharp and reaches for her staff, smooth wood a comfort as she uses it to stands herself up. ]
I see we've gone to the Grey Wardens school of decor. [ A bit boring she has to say, rather bland. No dirt, no drunkard puking his guts out in the corner, no wet dog smell. Frankly it is kind of disappointing.
Once her bearings are gather it takes Hawke all of a few moments to start snooping, trying to find something - anything - to tell her where exactly she's managed to find herself now. Eventually her combings finds her a device, odd little thing that she promptly starts playing with legs across upon the very bench she woke up on. A few hours of poking has her come to a few conclusions, one; this thing is weird, two; she can swear she has seen something like this before, and three; she can talk to people on it. At least she thinks she can.
A wild guess as her flick the feed on, though the camera is at a slight angle, all smiles and more than obvious bed hair. You'd almost have no idea that she is perhaps a little rattled by all of this with the way she looks. ]
Good morning, or is it afternoon? Honestly I have no bloody idea, I tried to fun the sun but it seems that I have misplaced that alongside of almost everything else. No matter, I'm sure it'll all turn up somehow.
I'm Hawke, by the way - best to get introductions out of the way early - and I have two very important questions to ask you... [ Trailing off the screws up her nose slightly before shaking her head. ] Is there a bar nearby and how can I get there?
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[Oh. She looks just the same, but he's not allowed himself to hope that this can be the same Hawke. He's assumed it was just some...stupid trick, just one Hawke in what seems like a billion potential versions. Hope is a dangerous poison, and for a brief moment, the allows a trickle of it into his heart.]
...Is that so? Where would that be?
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[ It's bizarre, memories flitting back into place where they previously weren't. A sudden influx and rush that leaves her half reeling, though you would be unlikely to tell. She rests the device on top of her knees and exhales, half smile keeping her expression a mixture of cheery and half asleep. ]
Some place named Earth, I think? It's all a bit fuzzy right now.
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...Does the name Exsilium mean anything to you?
[Please, dear Maker please. Just once, let him have this one thing. ]
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I am not panicking about this space nonsense, am I? [ Which as much of a 'yes it means something' as you're going to get. ] Not much of a show this time.
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She's here and she's safe. Thank the Maker.]
This is nothing to do with the Initiative. The beings who control this are called Atroma. ...Though I would not be surprised if the United Earth had something to do with this. There are times when things are...familiar.
But no. We are not at war here. No time travel. We move through space for a television show, apparently.
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Wonderful! That machine of theirs always made me woozy whenever we had to use it.
[ She remembers that much amongst the fractures of things returning to the surface, fitting themselves in with the rest of her disastrous memories. ]
Better than Weisshaupt, I suppose. The Wardens weren't exactly good hosts.
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He gives a soft 'hmm' of consent. He hated the time travel thing, it was stupid.]
So that is where you have ended up. [And yeah, this is Fenris so he's just going to straight come out and say it. ]
What happened in the Fade?
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Are we really doing this now?
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Yes. I wish to know. The Hawke who was here before you told me he sacrificed himself there. I want to know if that's the case with you.
[That's what he needs to know the most. If she's ALIVE. The rest...the rest can be dealt with in time, but he needs to know. The first time he learned of it, it tore him to pieces.
He's scared. It's hard to tell, to anyone who doesn't know him well. But for those that do, there is a minuscule waver in his tone that's not usually there.]
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Forgive me if I don't want to be having this conversation right now, I am entirely too sober.
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Fine. [It's bit out, he's distinctly Not Happy. ] But I need to know this, Hawke.
[She can't hide it from him forever. ]
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Sorry. [ She mumbles voice small and apologetic. ] When I'm off this ship... maybe then.
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As you wish.
...Are you okay otherwise? I know arriving on the Marsiva can be confusing.
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I'd be better if I had a bottle of wine in my hand and my dog with me.
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[Because yay alcohol? ]
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Only time will tell.
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A few days then.
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I will look forward to it.
...
It has not been the same without you.
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It hasn't been the same running about Thedas without you, either. Stroud wasn't nearly as good as you at brooding.
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I don't brood.
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