driftfleet | Don’t care if he’s guilty, don’t care if he’s not

Who: Adalwolfe Hawke and you
Broadcast: Yes
Action: Yes (Three Twins med bay)
When: Now

[Video]

[Some may know and some may not, but even with the little communications crisis going on right now, Adalwolfe is not on the ship he's assigned to. Currently, he's been haunting the medical bay of the Three Twins instead, which is what's vaguely in the background of the video as it winks into broadcast.]

Hey everyone, Hawke here. The male one, obviously.

[He takes an awkward breath, looking a little dark and strained around the eyes, mostly from lack of sleep.]

I know there are other things going on, and these comas are perhaps old hat to some of you especially with how frequently they've been going around right now, but is it... is it normal to age so quickly in one of these mysterious comas?

[He rolls his chair out of the way of the device he has sitting on the counter, giving a side view of Anders laying prone in one of the hospital style cots, eyes closed and Ser Pounce-a-lot the orange tabby curled on his chest with no intention of moving. Anders has grown far more gaunt than when he was up and around last week, and has more than his carefully groomed five-o-clock shadow in stubble about the chin. The beard would be worse if Adalwolfe hadn't taken the time to carefully shave his fellow mage, but he's not about to announce that on the network.]

I hope it is. Otherwise I'm worried he'll waste away like this.

[Adalwolfe rolls back into view, blocking all but the swishing of Ser Pounce's tail.]

Also, to the First Breath crew, I'm sorry I'm not there to take care of the device. I'll be back--

[A glance back at Anders and Hawke shakes his head.]

I'll be back when I'm back. Until then, help yourselves to the bread and things I have stored in the galley from the last planet as an apology. There should be enough to last weeks. Just leave enough of the frozen meat to last Ser Drools until the next planet.

[With an uncharacteristically grim expression, Hawke pauses, then decides he's said his piece until someone answers, and shuts off the feed rather abruptly.]

[Action]

After shutting off the feed, Hawke leans back in his chair, flopping his forearm over his eyes for a moment as if that will somehow block out his worry. He's not sure what he's more anxious over - the thought that Anders won't wake up by himself and he'll have to try and desperately wake him in a panic before he turns to nothing but a husk, or the thought that Anders will wake up with memories of his future, memories of Kirkwall, and Adalwolfe won't be in them. It's a distinct possibility, either way. They both remember Riona, which bodes well, but so does Leliana and yet Leliana doesn't know him at all, which puts him back to square one on what to expect.

Ser Drools whines from under the console at Hawke's feet, responding to his master's turmoil. Or responding to his own turmoil at not being able to get close to Anders' bed for the cat keeping stalwart vigil on Blondie's chest.

Hawke lowers his arm and leans down to pet his dog instead, trying to stop moping and fretting for Ser Drools' sake as much as his own. He's just resolving to do that when the door opens and Adalwolfe's attention spins to that, hand poised over his puppy to see who's come in and for what.

"If you need medical attention, I'm afraid the doctor is out just now."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

How does your friend, Hawke? And how do you?

A little better, I think. He's got a bit more weight to him after the doctor got an IV in.

[Or it could be because he's moved into those middle three years. The happier years in Kirkwall, over all... Hawke tries not to dwell on those memories, not right now.]

Thank you for asking.

[He smiles wanly, purposely ignoring the question after his own health for lack of a proper answer.]

THat is well, and I am glad for it.

[ He eyes Hawke thoughtfully ]

So you must do better yourself, I guess, since you know him out of danger, for the nonce. Could you use some company, or a drink?

[ Or both. ]

A drink would be spectacular.

[Something good and hard to get through this. He doesn't often use alcohol as a crutch. He drinks, but generally when celebrating or spending time with friends, but this is a special case. Still, it could lift his spirits to, well... lift some spirits.]

Ask whoever's manning the bar at Malum for the good stuff.

[Since he's not sure where else to get it, and he's certainly not leaving. What if Anders wakes up? Or takes a worse turn? He has to stay.]

Then I drink I shall bring.

[ Maglor promises and nods ]

Alright.

[ He knows the pain of the long watch all too well, and he will be round as switft as he may ]

[Adalwolfe leans back as the video shuts off, wondering how he'd managed to meet people who actually cared enough to come keep him company. First Kate and now Maglor willingly offering up their time while Hawke sits doing... nothing. At least that feels like. There's nothing he can do except for watch, which he can't imagine is any fun for anyone else.

Idly he wonders if Maglor could hear the songs of people's souls as well as those of histories and the stars, that if he played Anders' the mage could come out of sleep and back to the Fleet. It's a silly thought and one that makes him acknowledge he needs to sleep himself. Not that he's going to.

He just waits for Maglor to arrive on the Three Twins, staring at the walls and idly scratching behind Ser Drools' ears.]

[ It does take a little while, as Maglor has to politely ask for directions and permission, but he does arrive with as strong a drink as he could get his hands on.

Tap tap tap on the doorframe ]

How does he, Hawke?

The same.

[He tries to smile. It doesn't look fake, at least not once he sees the bottle in Maglor's hand.]

Sweet Maker, what did you find?

I have honestly no idea. [ He admits. ] I spoke to the bartender, and was presented this from somewhere under the bar. I assume it is... potent.

[ Also expensive, based on the elaborate bottle with dusty lable ]

I brought cups as well, if you would like to crack it now.

[Blessed Tyrion. Or Kate. Even Crowley, though Adalwolfe doubts he's made an actual appearance behind the bar. Even so, bless them all for what he hopes is something stronger than Thedas could produce and bless Maglor for bringing it.]

Absolutely, let's do it.

[Adalwolfe takes the bottle politely, though the way he rips through the wax seal on top is the opposite of polite, going at it with his teeth to start and spitting a small glob of wax aside before getting his nails under and freeing the much desired booze. He pours them both about two fingers to start, the scent from the bottle's narrow open top enough to make Hawke's eyes water so he doesn't want to just have a go at the bottle. You don't do that with the expensive stuff anyway, whatever mood you're in.]

A toast?

[He's not sure why he suggests it when he picks up his glass. He doesn't feel there's much to toast about.]

[ Maglor hums in low approval at the smell and the color ]

Ah now, but this is certainly the "good stuff". You have good friends, I think!

[ He raises his glass in query ]

What do you have in mind to toast to?

To the end of waiting.

[He says it wryly, knowing the toast is to something he has no idea when it will come. It's hardly a good one, but it's pertinent.]

[ Maglor makes a low noise of amused understanding ]

To the end of waiting. [ He agrees ] May it come soon.

Don’t care if he’s guilty, don’t care if he’s not

really late video

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video

video -> action?

action!

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Action