Adalwolfe Hawke (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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driftfleet2016-06-04 07:54 pm
wolfehawke) wrote in driftfleet2016-06-04 07:54 pm
Entry tags:
Jump in the line, rock your body in time (Okay, I believe you!)
Who: Adalwolfe Hawke and YOU!
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS First Breath
When: At least three to six hours after the shuffle
Action | Aboard the First Breath
Three hours since his ship-to-ship transfer and Adalwolfe has made progress. He's managed to find his room (more austere than his estate, but better appointed than the hovel in rural Orlais hiding from the Templars), don new clothes (surprisingly comfortable despite not being made of silk), and even managed to scrape together some serviceable food (the odd goop seemed entirely unpalatable at first but it's easier to prepare than anything else he's attempted so he'll take it.) Certainly progress, as he sees it. The next step is to explore the rest of the ship, familiarize himself with his post, and potentially the rest of the crew.
He hasn't run into anyone else just yet but it's not that big of a vessel so it's just a matter of time. He supposes if he actually tries, he could find someone. If he's going to be stuck here, he'd rather it not be without any contacts or friends.
To this end, Adalwolfe ties the arms of his charcoal jumpsuit around his waist to keep the bottom half up, adjusts his nondescript standard issue white t-shirt, and sets back out into the bowels of the ship not so much with a strut but actually exactly with that. If he was aware of the phrase 'fake it 'til you make it,' he'd also be aware that he's taking it to heart.
Because under the forced satisfaction with his accommodations and the acceptance of the unfamiliar clothes and strange cuisine, Adalwolfe feels completely and utterly alone in the blackness of space. The feeling had set in early on the Marsiva for all it's strangeness, and yes he knows why he's here and what this all is and that in and of itself is even more strange, knowing Thedas has nothing closer to travel in space than telescopes and yet here he is. He'd spent far too much time on the Hospitality deck just staring. Pondering his own insignificance, how everything that he's been through and done for Kirkwall, for Mages, for Thedas seems so small when he suddenly just knows how vast the universe actually is.
That's not the eldest son of Malcom Hawke though. He doesn't allow himself to drown in awe or fear of the unknown. No, Adalwolfe Hawke instead takes the dragon by the horns and forges onwards, best foot forward.
He peeks into every corner of the ship, managing to trip over the sometimes oddly placed railings and poles only once. In each and every room - minus the other living quarters of course, that would be rude - he takes a look around with just his head and shoulders in the doorway more to see if anyone is actually there than check out the room itself, but it's about 60/40.
Whenever he does find someone, he adopts a charming grin and offers up a greeting.
"Hello, I'm new. I thought I'd introduce myself."
Video | Fleetwide
[One day at a time.
Adalwolfe keeps having to actually tell himself to take things one day at a time because otherwise he notices everything new happening entirely too fast. Sure, the augment certainly helps out. He even has a job. Again not one of his choosing entirely, one he was roped into, but Communications Officer isn't so bad all things considered. At least he's not going to be constantly asked to rough people up even if 'could you talk to--' he imagines will be a common request. But a job will help to keep him grounded and focused and he's spent quite a long time since his arrival with his face in the broadcast controls and scanner arrays. Nearly two hours.
It's... probably time to familiarize himself with other aspects of his new life.
The truth is, not everything has been happening so fast. The Blight overrunning Lothering, that was fast. The explosion of the Chantry and subsequent Mage Uprising, that was fast. Waking up in space and being told he's now an passenger on an intergalactic voyage with millions of people watching the mortal drama as it unfolds, have fun? That's not fast, that's just weird.
Mostly he's adjusted. Or he thinks he has. He'd been popped onto a smaller ship from the massive one at the center of the fleet today, given his aforementioned position, and then left to his own devices. It leaves quite enough time for adjusting. He's a bit tired of adjusting. It's been half day on his new ship already.
But, as they say, one day at a time.
And on this day, a day that's not particularly special other than his change of scenery, Adalwolfe Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, Sends out a fleetwide message.]
Hello? I think I've got this working. Can anyone see me?
As I understand it we're all from different places, times, or even realities so I was wondering just how different all these places are.
[He leans back a bit in picture, fingers pressed together thoughtfully.]
I can tell you, Thedas is nothing like this.
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS First Breath
When: At least three to six hours after the shuffle
Action | Aboard the First Breath
Three hours since his ship-to-ship transfer and Adalwolfe has made progress. He's managed to find his room (more austere than his estate, but better appointed than the hovel in rural Orlais hiding from the Templars), don new clothes (surprisingly comfortable despite not being made of silk), and even managed to scrape together some serviceable food (the odd goop seemed entirely unpalatable at first but it's easier to prepare than anything else he's attempted so he'll take it.) Certainly progress, as he sees it. The next step is to explore the rest of the ship, familiarize himself with his post, and potentially the rest of the crew.
He hasn't run into anyone else just yet but it's not that big of a vessel so it's just a matter of time. He supposes if he actually tries, he could find someone. If he's going to be stuck here, he'd rather it not be without any contacts or friends.
To this end, Adalwolfe ties the arms of his charcoal jumpsuit around his waist to keep the bottom half up, adjusts his nondescript standard issue white t-shirt, and sets back out into the bowels of the ship not so much with a strut but actually exactly with that. If he was aware of the phrase 'fake it 'til you make it,' he'd also be aware that he's taking it to heart.
Because under the forced satisfaction with his accommodations and the acceptance of the unfamiliar clothes and strange cuisine, Adalwolfe feels completely and utterly alone in the blackness of space. The feeling had set in early on the Marsiva for all it's strangeness, and yes he knows why he's here and what this all is and that in and of itself is even more strange, knowing Thedas has nothing closer to travel in space than telescopes and yet here he is. He'd spent far too much time on the Hospitality deck just staring. Pondering his own insignificance, how everything that he's been through and done for Kirkwall, for Mages, for Thedas seems so small when he suddenly just knows how vast the universe actually is.
That's not the eldest son of Malcom Hawke though. He doesn't allow himself to drown in awe or fear of the unknown. No, Adalwolfe Hawke instead takes the dragon by the horns and forges onwards, best foot forward.
He peeks into every corner of the ship, managing to trip over the sometimes oddly placed railings and poles only once. In each and every room - minus the other living quarters of course, that would be rude - he takes a look around with just his head and shoulders in the doorway more to see if anyone is actually there than check out the room itself, but it's about 60/40.
Whenever he does find someone, he adopts a charming grin and offers up a greeting.
"Hello, I'm new. I thought I'd introduce myself."
Video | Fleetwide
[One day at a time.
Adalwolfe keeps having to actually tell himself to take things one day at a time because otherwise he notices everything new happening entirely too fast. Sure, the augment certainly helps out. He even has a job. Again not one of his choosing entirely, one he was roped into, but Communications Officer isn't so bad all things considered. At least he's not going to be constantly asked to rough people up even if 'could you talk to--' he imagines will be a common request. But a job will help to keep him grounded and focused and he's spent quite a long time since his arrival with his face in the broadcast controls and scanner arrays. Nearly two hours.
It's... probably time to familiarize himself with other aspects of his new life.
The truth is, not everything has been happening so fast. The Blight overrunning Lothering, that was fast. The explosion of the Chantry and subsequent Mage Uprising, that was fast. Waking up in space and being told he's now an passenger on an intergalactic voyage with millions of people watching the mortal drama as it unfolds, have fun? That's not fast, that's just weird.
Mostly he's adjusted. Or he thinks he has. He'd been popped onto a smaller ship from the massive one at the center of the fleet today, given his aforementioned position, and then left to his own devices. It leaves quite enough time for adjusting. He's a bit tired of adjusting. It's been half day on his new ship already.
But, as they say, one day at a time.
And on this day, a day that's not particularly special other than his change of scenery, Adalwolfe Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, Sends out a fleetwide message.]
Hello? I think I've got this working. Can anyone see me?
As I understand it we're all from different places, times, or even realities so I was wondering just how different all these places are.
[He leans back a bit in picture, fingers pressed together thoughtfully.]
I can tell you, Thedas is nothing like this.
no subject
He's not surprised he arrived after her. When he does step inside, tall and broad with his hair capped in a snowy-white fall even at his age (he'd started going white in his early twenties; at over thirty now he's stopped complaining about it but he'd privately blamed the stress of taking care of the family without Father's help as the cause) he scans the room, looking for Marian and perhaps Varric too. Spotting only the former, he nevertheless gives a wave and makes a detour to the bar for a pair of glasses, thinking 'whatever you have that's strongest' is the easiest shortcut to what's needed.
Another few moments and Adalwolfe joins Marian at the table, heart simultaneously in his throat and in his gut being mauled by the butterflies its joined there. He tries not to let it show on his face though, setting the brimming amber glasses down on the table before taking a chair across from her himself. He's half a mind to lean back like that too, feet up and all, but settles instead for turning the chair outward so he's perpendicular to her and can hold his mug to the side on the table while still being able to see the room with his back to the wall. He half hopes he'll catch a glimpse of the bar's proprietor, not that he's looking too terribly hard. He's here for Marian; the potential gut-punch that is one of his best friends not remembering him can wait.]
Thanks for the waymarkers. I hope you don't get into too much trouble for that.
[She reminds him of Bethany, Leandra, and Malcom all at once. Perhaps even Carver, a little, but it's hard for anyone to remind him of Carver without first being a petulant brat about something. She reminds him of himself too, that nonchalant demeanor despite the internal turmoil he has to assume she's feeling. He feels it, so it only serves to reason.
He takes a swallow of his drink, looking out at the rest of the bar to keep himself from staring.]
Where do you want to start?
[No use in beating around the bush, is there?]