002; action;

[theirinurpants]

Who: Alistair and anyone who wants to get shitfaced.
Broadcast: Nope.
Action: Varric's bar on the Iskaulit.
When: Tonight. All night. PONY UP.
WARNING: Depending on how conversations go, drunk!Alistair may make vague references to child neglect/abuse, or possibly dubiously consensual sex. Other topics might include violence and extreme daddy issues. Let me know if you want me to specifically avoid any of that!

[ For all intents and purposes, Alistair feels utterly alone. Sure, there are several people in the fleet who know him, but he doesn't seem to know any of them, and so it's weird. And if he's being honest with himself, he was feeling pretty lonely well before he got here. All of the friends he made during the Blight, when they were all on the road together, pretty much left after it ended, after his coronation. Even Amell ran off somewhere with Leliana, leaving him to the tender mercies of his uncle, his late brother's widow, and the rest of the Fereldan nobility.

He's been keeping up a cheerful face - he doesn't really know how to do anything else - but what with being here, learning about things he probably shouldn't have learned about, and having a little bit of money from - somewhere, he's finally just. Showed up to the bar. Varric's is the closest thing to familiar he can find, so he's drinking whatever ale his money can buy. And he's not stopping until the money runs out or he is insensible on the floor. ]

Another. Please.

Comments

no need to avoid any of those topics btw

[invigorates]

[ in the few days since she had begun working at the space bar, lioriley learned quickly that there were a lot of different types of people that came into seedy places like this. rowdy drunks, angry brawlers, and people like alistair that just looked like they were having a rough time just by the expression on his face and the amount of booze he was consuming in such a short amount of time.

she let the first few drinks slide, glanced at him as she passed — was he familiar? vaguely. maybe she had seen him on the network before and hadn't had the chance to speak with him — to make sure he was all right as she delivered drinks to other tables. it was only when she herself was delivering him his... uh. fifth? six? drink that she stopped and asked: ]

Is everything all right, ser?

\o/

[theirinurpants]

[ Alistair is so busy wallowing in his own little pity party that he almost doesn't realize he's being addressed. And, well, okay, it might also be that he's a few sheets to the wind, so he's even slower on the uptake than usual. ]

Who, me? Oh. 's fine.

[ He pauses, acts like he's going to let her go, and then - ]

You ever learn anything about your own future?

[invigorates]

[ a lot of strange people have asked equally as strange questions in this bar, but out of all the sudden things he could have said — that had to be the oddest. the elf blinks owlishly in response, silent for a moment as she considers how to even answer that. ]

I... cannot say I have, no. [ another pause. and then: ] Have you?

HIT ME WITH ALL THE ISSUES

[bryces_pup]

[Riona quietly meanders into the bar, nursing a split lip and a small gash above her brow, along with other hidden injuries. They were the earnings of her last underground fighting bout, along with a nice chunk of credits. But now that she finally could afford a weapon, she decided to spend her credits elsewhere: on alcohol. Partly to celebrate her final fight, partly to ease the pain, and partly to forget about everything that had been going on as of late.

Funnily enough, she doesn't notice Alistair right away. She orders a gin and tonic, a drink she only learned about just recently. It's stronger than beer and a bit tastier. It's not until she's halfway through the drink before she spots her not!husband across the bar.

He isn't "her" Alistair, but she can read him just the same, and she can tell something is not right. Of course, being new here is not easy; she's still adjusting herself. Yet she feels there's more to it than that. And she can't ignore it, no matter how much she's afraid of asking what might be wrong.

So she knocks back her drink before ordering another one. When she gets it, she slides off her stool and meanders over to Alistair. She offers him her drink with a sympathetic smile.]

This is stronger than what you've got and can do the job a bit quicker.

yessssssss

[theirinurpants]

[ Riona's sudden appearance startles Alistair a little. He peers at the drink for a moment, as though considering whether to give it a try, and then takes a tentative sip.

Well. It's no worse than some of the ale he's had in the past.

And then he looks up and sees her face. A frown of concern creases his brow. ]

What happened?

[bryces_pup]

[It hadn't been her intention to sneak up on him. Though normally she's wearing something a bit more audible, like armor or leather, rather than the soft clothes she's in now.

His question prompts her to duck her head a bit, almost shyly. Her injuries didn't register with her when she came over to talk to him.]

Oh, ah, nothing bad. Just a bit of competitive fighting.

[She tries to dismiss it with a little laugh and shrug.]

Ogres have done worse to me. How do you find the drink? If you don't like it you don't have to drink it.

no worries re: any possible issues that come up

[enshields]

[Steve's not drunk. He can't actually get drunk, and in any case he's not exactly trying to. He's been coming here semi-regularly, mostly for the chance to stretch his legs off his ship, and he's been going over a great deal of paperwork at one of the tables in the back, drinking soda water. The hours pass, and when he's done as much work as he cares to for the evening he gets up, gathers his files in one hand and his plates in the other (his Ma'd turn over in her grave if he didn't bus his own) and makes his way to the bar to drop the latter off.

But in the realm of the drunk, the sober man is very rarely king and so, in trying to deftly avoid another patron that's gotten a little too inured of the drink, Steve sidesteps and promptly bumps directly into Alistair in the process. The plates stay aloft, but the folder he's carrying scatters paper in every which direction. He doesn't fuss over it, instead he takes the time to slide his dishes onto the bartop, and then,]

Ah-- sorry about that.

[And then he's stooping down to collect the errant sheets. Some are covered in nothing so offensive as neat Palmer script, others are doodles or drawings (one is of a dragon, articulately drawn but being menaced by a stick figure where he'd run out of the drive to finish it) or diagrams. One's a map of the nearby station, and that's the first one he reaches for, more accident than design.]

[theirinurpants]

Oh, no. That was probably my fault.

[ Even a few sheets to the wind, Alistair is all politeness, bending over to try and help the stranger pick up the scattered papers, even if he doesn't do a terribly good job of it. ]

Did you draw these yourself? I fought a dragon once.

[enshields]

[While he won't eschew the help, that little admission of unwarranted guilt does cause him to raise an eyebrow, and after a slight pause to shake his head.]

It's all right. I bumped into you.

[He's already apologized, and won't repeat himself, but he's not going to let a baseless claim go unchecked, either. The man's polite and means well, but Steve's no stranger to self-deprecation.]

And yes, they're mine. Never fought any dragons, though.

[Well. Not real ones, in any case. Hydra's altogether a different sort of beast.]

no prob with Issues

[littlecousin]

[Nita had not expected the answer to her flippant "where's a girl gotta go to get a drink around this dump?" question to provide a real answer, but would you look at that, here she is, glancing around Varric's bar with approval.

Which is bad news for Varric, because her taste is godawful.]

Alistair! Hey!

[She slides in next to him, and then, because drinking alone is rarely a good sign and reading people is something she does very, very well:]

You okay?

[theirinurpants]

Hiiiiiiiii. I'm... not okay, but it's all right. I've been worse, you know. I have lots of ale at least!

[ Alistair waves Nita over. Share his ale! It's fine. Everything is fine. ]

[littlecousin]

[Everything is clearly not fine, but the more of Alistair's beer she's drinking the less of a hangover he's going to have in the morning...assuming the bartender has the sense to cut him off while he can still walk.

She flips her ponytail back over her shoulder before it can drag through the various questionable liquids that end up on a bartop, and sits down beside Alistair.]

Dude, this is the kind of "all right" that ends with you informing complete strangers you love them and then needing to be carried home.

Any issues at all!

[namisan]

You sure you should keep drinking?

[Nami looks at him sideways, eyebrows raised, but for now at least she's happy to pour him another ale, sliding it over the countertop. Hello, I'll be your bartender for the day.] Must've been a pretty shitty day.

[theirinurpants]

[ Alistair takes this question seriously, at least for a brief moment, and then he shrugs. ]

I'm still thinking straight, so yeah, I want to keep drinking. And - more like a shitty six months, but who's counting?

[namisan]

Oh, you're having one of those years. [She's cheerful enough, but her smile takes on an edge of sympathy. She can relate.]

Well, in that case, drink up. That one's on the house.

we're good, also spams

[percolates]

[This place is much better than the hustle and bustle of the station. Ciri's not sure if she wants to drink, not when money is short and the jobs offered are more stand around and look scary instead of taking care of monsters. Something she'll have to adjust to, perhaps. Regardless, she spots a somewhat-familiar form at the bar and sidles up next to him.]

Hello, Alistair.

[theirinurpants]

Ciri! [ He's rather falsely cheerful at the sight of her, and he gives her a broad smile as she sits next to him. ]

Here for a drink? Of course you are, so am I. Maybe more than one. More than that.

[percolates]

[She leans away slightly, if only because the broad smile is a little alarming in addition to the words.]

Special occasion?

no need to warn me, i know what this canon is like

[merchantprince]

[Varric slides in across the table from Alistair, and he's brought some cards with him. It's hard to play Wicked Grace with a standard poker deck but he makes it work.]

You look like you could use the company.

[He slides a big mug over to the despondent king.]

And a beer.

[theirinurpants]

I really must be a depressing sight, if the proprietor himself is stopping by to keep me company.

[ But if there's more booze involved, why not? Cheers, Varric. ]

Thanks.

[merchantprince]

It's the least I could do.

[He smiles harmlessly.]

When's the last time you played Wicked Grace?

[survivalistcookbook]

[Eugene's been generally happy to hang out at his open kitchen set a little ways away from the bar, but when he sees people putting it down like muscles over here is doing, he tends to step in and at least offer. Which is what has him strolling up to the table for one, gait almost-even between the flipper-footed metal leg poking from under his rolled-up pantleg and the arm cane he uses to balance himself.

Either way, he's brought over a clean, stoppered bottle of water as well, and sets it down at the man's right hand in wordless suggestion that he try hydrating a little.]

Hey, buddy. Do you want anything to soak up all that liquor? We have some soft pretzels, fresh this afternoon.

[theirinurpants]

[ It takes Alistair a moment to register the newcomer - and that the man is actually addressing him. Hey, he is a few sheets to the wind, all right? ]

Um. What's a pretzel?

[ It's a legitimate question! Alistair has never heard of such a thing before. ]

no warnings necessary, I know Thedas well

[thezerothlaw]

[Daneel has been watching, and he comes now to put his hand down gently in front of Alistair, as though to shield him. Stranger or not, some things trouble him to watch.]

I believe you may have had enough, sir. It might be wisest to have some water, for the time being.

[theirinurpants]

[ If anything, at this point, yet another person trying to tell him what to do isn't bound to go over too well with Alistair.

He's been pushed around a lot, lately.

So he looks up at the stranger, a slight glare crossing his features. ]

I think I can say when I've had enough, yeah?