Alistair (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theirinurpants) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2016-02-06 05:39 pm
theirinurpants) wrote in driftfleet2016-02-06 05:39 pm
002; action;
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.
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.
no worries re: any possible issues that come up
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.]
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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 subject
I wouldn't recommend it. I had to change my trousers afterward.
[ He smiles faintly at the other man. ]
It's a good drawing though. Better than I could do. The stick-man might do a bit better with a sword, though.