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
[Well no, most recently he's from a little village in Orlais with some impossible to pronounce name, but that's neither here nor there. Kirkwall is home.]
What's your Midgard like?
no subject
It's busy, lots of people...that sort of thing.
no subject
[And also trying to keep the boy's mind off of being sick. It shouldn't be much further now, just one more left turn...]
no subject
[ Jihwan takes a breath and lets it go slowly. ]
What about...y-yours?
no subject
[He finishes wistfully as they finally make it through the door into the kitchen. Adalwolfe sits his charge down gingerly.]
Here we are, now to make some tea.
[He turns to the small array of kitchenware and foodstuffs and pauses for a moment trying to remember just how to do that.]
no subject
Sorry. For...this, I mean. [ Looking after him and stuff ]
no subject
[Adalwolfe tells him cheerily, getting water into the kettle and somehow bullying the stove into lighting to receive it.]
To tell you the truth, I used to get a bit queasy on ships too. These space-faring ones don't seem to effect me as much but everyone is different.
no subject
.......
You're handling the whole "space" thing well.
no subject
[Yup, just a day, but Adalwolfe compartmentalizes well and that was enough to shove it aside.]
I think it was the movement, with boats. You know, rocking back and forth. At least in space you don't get the nausea educing movement.
[Well, he doesn't anyway. He gives the boy a sidelong look then looks at the kettle as if he can speed it up with a glance.]
no subject
Thank god he has that on him, still. ]
I....yeah. Sounds--fun.
no subject
[Hawke curiously watches as Jihwan takes out a bottle of little pellets. Medicine, perhaps?
The kettle starts to whistle insistently and Hawke comes to its rescue, lifting it from the heat and pouring its contents into a mug he's found in a cupboard, already having placed the tea bag inside.]
I think there's some sort of honey-like stuff around here, or sugar, if you like those in your tea. Milk I don't know, I'll have to check.
no subject
Can I do something? [ Even stirring te milk into the tea would help at this point ]
no subject
[Adalwolfe slides the mug towards Jihwan and starts rummaging for whatever passes for milk around here. He doesn't think to give his charge a task; when Adalwolfe feels ill, he mostly just lays in bed if he can't use his magic to whisk it away. Moving too much doesn't help things.]
Hm, I'm not seeing any liquid milk but this package says 'powdered dairy substitute'. Maybe this will work?
no subject
....What? [ What are they talking about, again? ]
no subject
[Adalwolfe chews his lip for a moment, then seems to come to a decision.]
I, ah. Also have another option that might help you, if you're willing. If you can keep a secret.
[Please don't freak out.]
no subject
....? Yeah, I can....do that.
no subject
I'm a mage. I don't know if magic is a normal thing where you come from, but I can use it and I know a few Creation techniques for healing.
no subject
And then he's just going to keep staring at Hawke with equal parts "no" and "are you crazy." ]
You're like...a w, [ don't hurl ] wizard, or something?
no subject
[He raises the dairy powder over Jihwan's tea and pours a bit in, then moves the spoon without touching it, utilizing a small amount of his magic instead so it seems as if the cup is stirring itself.]
no subject
His world doesn't have magic in the sense of magical moving utensils. Hell they don't even have Mages. The closest Jihwan's eer seen is the slight if hand magicians on TV or street corners, and even then it's done nothing to prepare him for this. He stares as it swirls around, colour draining from his face steadily until he's a fine pale green...and promptly pitches over sideways. ]
wrap!
Adalwolfe heaves a heavy sigh and goes about moving Jihwan to his room, careful not to jostle him too badly. He even comes back and puts the tea next to his bed with a saucer on top to keep it warm. Hopefully Jihwan will just forget any of that, or chalk it up to his space sickness. Or Hawke's just made an enemy.
He guesses he'll find out eventually.]