driftfleet | 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?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Can't start the day without a hearty mug of ale.

[ And boy does she need it. So far it has been a long morning, or night, or just day? Frankly her sense of time has fallen to the way side since she woke up, not that she paid much attention to it all normally. Hawke cocks her head slightly, glancing over her new scruffy looking companion, juggling her weight from one foot to the other. ]

Hawke. [ While her frame might a bit on the smaller side she has a decent grip, taking his hand without hesitation. ] If only our illustrious hosts could muster up this much of a welcome, accompanied by some half decent ale, I'd the happiest woman alive.

It's a pleasure.

[ ale isn't exactly his drink of choice, but he can definitely appreciate a healthy appetite for booze. she's got a good grip, too; he likes her already. once he's pulled his hand back, he settles his thumbs into the belt loops of his worn jeans. ]

From what I hear, that's unlikely. No one's seen hide nor hair of them at all, as far as I know. The ale, though, that can be remedied easily enough. There're a few bars on the other ships, or so I've been told.

[ The joys of living in a medieval sort of setting; their booze is mostly restricted the wines pilfered from the home of a dead man, or ale watered down so far it might as well be considered rat piss at that point. The dwarven stuff is considerably strong, she has heard but has so far lacked the means to get her hands on the stuff.

Juggling her weight Hawke expression rests with a smile, a sort of lazy smile. ]

As have I, one of them is even owned by my favorite dwarf in the world. And yet they stand so far from us, across the cruel and cold vacuum of space.

[ piss poor ale and wines certainly won't do, you poor soul. just wait 'til he gets some of his home cooked absinthe brewing, you'll be the first to get a taste. ]

You're right about that. [ said with a heaved, world-weary sigh and a roll of his eyes toward the heavens. he doesn't like it any more than you do, hawke. ] 'Fraid we don't have much choice, though. Shouldn't be long, at least, and the food here's pretty good. I've got some smokes too, if it'll help. [ he's only got half a pack left, but hey, he's a generous guy. ]

[ You will be her favorite person in the world, no really, her Maker damn favorite─ after Varric of course, no one can beat her best friend. ]

It is a tragedy, horrible and cruel. [ And she'll be complaining to someone about their treatment on this ship to be sure. Or at least she'll try to complain somewhat dramatically and likely get ignored, but at this point will stop caring as Varric's bar will be in arms reach. ] Decent food certainly softens the blow, though I have yet to venture towards the kitchen. We have never worked well together, me and kitchens, things tend to randomly burst into fire. [ The smokes give her pause, recognition somewhat absent. ] Aren't those the things almost like pipes? But smaller?

[ Poor medieval fantasy baby. ]

[ cas laughs quick at that, even as he's fishing his pack and lighter from the pocket of his canvas jacket. ]

Yeah, I hear you on that. I've never set anything on fire, to date, but I won't ever claim to be a good cook. I can, you know, keep myself alive, but that's about the extent of it.

[ and it's hard to go wrong with, you know, canned foods. really, really hard to set on fire. not impossible, but much safer than anything that requires real cooking. he tugs two cigarettes free, holding 'em up. ]

But they're something like that, yeah. Tobacco rolled up all nice and neat. Takes the edge off, a little. And food's this way - [ vague gesture ] - if you're interested. All pre-made, no explosions necessary.

The best I am able to do is not char meat, which is an accomplishment in of itself. It isn't anything fancy, unfortunately, but enough to ensure my stomach doesn't try to eat itself with ravenous hunger.

[ Thedas hasn't much in the way of canned foods, so learning not to burn meat is the next best thing. It was a skill that took many long months to perfect, so she's quite proud of it.

She morbidly curious she tilts her head at them, plucking one free. Smells odd, though reminds her vaguely of elfroot, mud, and a youth full of sneaking about the back of houses in Lothering. ]

Food sounds amazing right now.

[ no one has yet to stop him from smoking on this ship, so cas lights up without hesitation, taking a long drag from the cigarette and exhaling through his nose, before offering her the lighter between two fingers. ]

Well then you're in luck. The stuff here is pretty good.

[ at least by his standards. rationed canned foods day in and day out for years isn't really the most appetizing diet. he turns, meandering toward the hallway leading to the cafeteria. ]

And you can eat as much as you want. The stuff just.. replenishes itself. Machines, or something, I have no idea how it works, but there's plenty of it.

[ A little box that can produce flame? Oh, that is cute. Hawke grins before lifting up one of her own hands, a small flame flickers to life in her palm. The advantages of being a mage. Once lit she inhales sharp, perhaps too fast, the sudden influx of smoke surprising her into a cough. Not so fast, Hawke.

Still she follows after him to the cafeteria, the prospect of never ending food easily grabbing her attention. Her diet of the last few months consisted on nothing more than cooked or dried meat and berries. ]

Andraste's ass, they managed to do one thing right. Puts my opinion of their hospitality up a few notches, though it doesn't excuse the horrible lack of decor. I've seen better looking establishments covered in nothing but dirt, blood, and vomit staining the floors.

[ when she doesn't take the lighter, he glances back to look and sees she's.. okay, right, well, fair enough. he doesn't know any mages, and the few witches he's encountered have generally been bad news, but she doesn't give off a particularly witchy vibe, or even an negative one at all, so he's chill with it.

curious, though. it's definitely got him cocking a brow. ]

Easy there. [ he says through a smile when she coughs, pocketing the lighter again. ] But yeah, tell me about it. You will not hear me complaining, that's for sure - about the food, at least. Not so sure about the blood and vomit. I've had my fair share of wild nights, but.. I dunno, I don't mind the crisp, clean thing they've got going on. At least the view is good.

[ Funny thing about Hawke is that she never seems to give off the witchy vibe, or a bad one, or even a mage-y vibe at all. Ten years she spent running about Kirkwall with a staff on her back and magic in her hands, not once did those templar's seem to notice. Or if they did notice they all collectively decided they would not bother coming after her - honestly she could never tell which.

In the end it didn't really matter. ]

I guess I am far too used to living in giant shit hole, makes places like this unsettling in how clean everything is. [ She misses Kirkwall a lot sometimes, even more so than Ferelden. ] But if the food you've been selling is as good as you say, I might just decide that unsettling clean space ships are far more superior.

[ yeah she definitely doesn't read as witch, but then, cas never really knew many witches, and his power sure ain't what it used to be. so he'll just consider it a pleasant surprise, and remind himself that she seems the handy sort to have around. ]

You and me both, sister. [ he says with a laugh. ] But I was from a much nicer place, before that. I suppose I just can't get rid of that fondness for.. organization. Any rate, you'll soon find out for yourself.

[ since hey look we're at the cafeteria! it's not a terribly long walk. ]

001.

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