driftfleet | all this time.

Entry tags:

all this time.

Who: hawke & open!
Broadcast: text, fleetwide.
Action: iskaulit, málum specifically.
When: a few hours after this conversation.

so i have a question
is anyone here good with plants??? im running low on elfroot and i was wonder if anyone can
grow it or cultivate it or something i need a lot of it a constant source
also uh
lyrium need that too but it isnt something you can grow
if atroma could be so nice to give me some?? pretty please
not actually sure if you can ask them for stuff or how to
balls

im at the malum if anyone wants me

[ Indeed if anyone does go looking for Marian Hawke or happens to wander into the Malum in the next few hours they will find the Champion of Kirkwall there, tucked away in the most isolated corner she can manage nursing a drink. It might be her fifth at this point, not that it matters she has an amazing tolerance. She is leaning on the table lazily, idly thumbing through her communicator as her mabari, fondly named Dog, sits protectively by her feet.

She looks miserable, or bored, it's a little tough to tell. But what a better time to bother her, right? ]

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[Her heart sinks at the exhaustion and the barely-there smile. If there was any doubt she hadn't talked to Fenris, that's now gone. Riona keeps a smile in place, as hard as it is. She doesn't want to dive into that just yet.]

You honor me, Champion.

[Riona takes a seat, shuffling in as Kiter sniffs at Dog in greeting.]

Any luck about your inquiry on the network? I know we have gardens on the Iskaulit, so there should be a fair share of gardeners in the fleet.

[ She's doing a terrible job at being okay, isn't she? It's practically written all over Riona's face that she can see it, can tell that her barely there mask is doing little to hide everything. Maker's balls, she needs another drink. ]

Nothing yet, but I'm hoping someone can help.

[Yeah, she kind of is. To be fair to Hawke, though, Riona went in knowing shit wasn't going to be okay. It's kind of cheating.]

Worse comes to shove, you take some seeds, plop them into some soil, and apply water periodically. I mean, at worst it won't grow. Or maybe somehow turns into a magnificent plant monster that we'll have to fight.

[She signals for a drink from the bar.]

...actually, that sounds rather fun right about now.

The last plant I tried to grow died within the first week.

[ She quickly decided she wasn't at all a plant person after that, which was a shame as she had been trying to grow something for her mother. Leandra appreciated the effort, however. ]

Or a dragon, I could really go for a giant plant dragon right now.

Ouch. Not conducive to plant dragon-ness then. Hm.

[Riona lets out a sigh, leaning back against her seat. All right. Enough small talk.]

I can certainly understand why you'd want to fight one right now.

[ Well shit.

Hawke's expression drops and she leans forward again, grabbing her drink and throwing back what remained. She knows, does she? That shouldn't really surprise her considering how much of her life has always been up for public scrutiny. ]

How much do you know? [ No point beating around the bush, is there? ] Did he tell you all about it?

[The bartender gestures that Riona's drink is ready. She beckons Hawke to wait a moment, which allows her a moment, while she gets up and gets the drink she ordered. A part of her wishes she could just do this smoothly, go about comforting Hawke and keeping her company without having to mention it, but she knows that's impossible. She can't pretend nothing's wrong, and even as much as it hurts, she wants Hawke to know that someone's aware and on her side.

She finagles a bottle of wine from the bar as well before making her way back with the bottle and her drink. She sets them down, sliding the bottle over to Hawke as she nurses her drink.]

He told me what he did, just earlier today. The short version of the story: Kirk said something that raised my suspicions, I messaged Fenris, he told me what he did, and I have been trying not to go over there and kick his teeth in for the past several hours. [After a very emotional conversation over the devices.] I'm so sorry, Marian. I really am.

[ All at once her demeanor changes, muscles stiffen as she leans back away from the table, away from Riona, away from the whole bloody mess. But there is no running for it, no matter how hard she tries. The wounds are there raw and bleeding, every attempt to balm them only making things worse.

Shit, shit, shit. It shouldn't hurt as much as it does, it shouldn't make her want to curl up and cry for the next three years. She knew it was doomed from the beginning, but she stayed as close as she could, selfishly enjoying what they had even if it wasn't perfect. And now it feels as though the man she loves, the man she left behind, who would whisper to her as she slept and stroke her hair, was the one who tore out her heart and crushed it.

Stupid, really, because he isn't the same man but he was close enough. ]

Don't. [ Hawke tears her gaze from Riona, reaching out almost blindly for the bottle. ] Don't apologize to me, it's fine really. Just another day in the life of Marian Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall, walking disaster. Haven't you read Varric's book? I never get to keep the things I love, I'm used to it by now.

[ She laughs, sharp and bitter, and takes a long drink from the bottle. ]

Edited 2017-08-24 00:36 (UTC)

No, it's not fine, nothing about this is fine and it shouldn't be. He did a shitty thing to you, Hawke, and it isn't your fault or anything you could have done. This is all on him and his insecurities.

[The worst part is, there's no fixing it. Riona's a problem solver, and nothing hurts her more than seeing a friend suffer and knowing she can't help. She wants to reach out to Hawke, but she sees the way the woman recoils, and thus keeps her distance.]

You have your Fenris back home. [There's a slightly bitter laugh of her own.] Believe me, I know that's little consolation here and now, but someday you're going to go home, having forgotten all of this, and he'll be there. One day you'll be with him again. You haven't lost him.

[Time for a long drink of her own.] But I imagine it feels like you have in a way, doesn't it?

Little consolation? [ She laughs again, that bitterly sharp sound passing her lips as she hangs her head. ] Maker's balls, you have no idea. It's not that simple, it's never been that simple. I didn't just care for him because he is Fenris, because he looks and speaks exactly like the idiot elf who loves me back home. He's...

[ For a moment Hawke feels herself break and she quickly downs more of the wine, leaning back further on the chair. This is stupid and she hates it, she hates it all so bloody much. Why does it hurt like it does? Riona is right, it isn't like she has lost him, and yet... ]

This Fenris, we've been through a lot of shit together. This isn't the first time we've been kidnapped by some almighty power wanting us to do shit for them. [ She can still remember clearly the day they returned to their respective homes, how a part of her heart felt like it was breaking. How she wished she could take him with her, away from that ass of a Hawke he traveled with. ]

─I don't know, everything is just messed up and I don't want to talk about it. I'd rather get blind drunk and not think about anything, or anyone.

[Oh, she has an idea of it, but that's not worth bringing up. It's a momentary glance away before sips at her drink as she listens.]

United Earth, right? Sounds like fun times. And by fun I mean not at all.

[Fenris regaled her with a few horror stories about them and the battle that had been waged against them.]

I understand. If you change your mind, you know where to find me. So. [There's a vague gesture at the wine bottle.] That's not bad to start, but that won't do the trick real well. Unless you've been at it for awhile?

Yeah, those assholes.

[ Her fingers curl around the bottle in her hands, a thin layer of ice briefly spreading across the glass surface as Hawke exhales, memories dancing about her head. Feels like it was yesterday and a decade ago at once. Maker's hairy balls, this sucks, all of it sucks. ]

Don't hold your breath, I probably wont change my mind. But thanks for the offer anyway. [ A large part of her wishes Varric was here, wishes Isabela had stayed, wishes Adalwolfe was still around. One of her hand leaves the bottle and reaches for the chain around her neck, curling around the signet ring it holds. ] Oh, it's been a while, an hour or so. I plan for the long haul, Your Majesty, no point in drinking in half measures.

[Riona remains composed on the outside, her expression the same as before. However, she does glance at the ice forming around the glass. She doubts it's intentional, and that act in and of itself says a lot more about Hawke's emotional state than anything else she's seen so far.]

I'll probably hold my breath anyway. Old habits die hard. [She wants to tell her that she needs to take care of herself and not shove her problems away, but there are too many emotions wildly spinning about right now, and the last thing she wants is to push Marian away.] As I thought. The question is, what's your favorite kind of hard liquor? Wine's not going to cut it for long.

That's stupid, you'll choke.

[ It's obvious by now Hawke has checked out of the subject, focusing instead on other things that don't make her chest hurt when she thinks. Riona literally holding her breath being one of them.

Fingers holding tight to the bottle she shrugs, taking a curious look at it before draining it further. ]

Not sure if I have one, not sure if I care enough to have one right now. Alcohol is alcohol.

I can manage.

[Look Riona is champion of holding out for lost causes, it's how she got where she is in life.

She "hmmm"s before indicating for Hawke to wait a moment as she gets up and trots over to the bar. Her only criteria for the bartender is "literally the strongest stuff you have". It earns her a look but she insists and eventually she's handed a bottle of clear liquid. She pops open the lid and takes a sniff, her eyes widening.]

Well that's... phew.

[She nods and asks for two glasses. The bartender hands her two tumblers. And with that she's heading back to the table, alcohol and glasses in hand.]

This might be strong enough to strip the paint off a wall.

[ Frankly she would be happy if Riona just left her to her misery, incredibly happy even. She only ever goes to select people in her misery and they... well Varric isn't here anymore. Unfortunately it's clear that Riona has a different idea and Hawke doesn't have the energy to stop her. If she wants to stay she can stay, as long as she doesn't expect Hawke to be pleasant or sociable.

For a moment she watches the warden move towards the bar before shrugging, leaning forward to rest herself on the table. Maybe it is her misery or the alcohol finally getting to her head, but suddenly the table feels incredibly comfortable.

It's when she is entertaining the thought of falling asleep right there and then that Riona returns, causing Hawke to glance up awkwardly. ]

That so?

Certainly smells it.

[She pours out a drink for them both before sliding a glass to Marian. Taking her seat again, Riona tentatively sniffs the drink again, nearly going cross-eyed. With a shrug and an attitude of "here goes nothing", she takes a sip. Surprisingly, it goes down okay, though it's definitely potent.]

Decent taste. Still not entirely sure what it-

[Okay, she spoke too soon. The after burn kicks in a bit late, but when it does, it's got Riona nearly in tears as she coughs, cringing and reaching for the wine bottle.]

Might also strip the lining of your throat, too.

[ Another person might look at Riona's reaction and think 'maybe it's a bad idea to drink that' but Hawke? She sits up a little more alert than before and takes the glass without fear nor hesitation.

She spent almost a year of her life subsisting on nothing but alcohol and whatever food Varric could convince her to drink, the stronger then better in her opinion.

Hawke throws back the glass fearlessly, the burn quick to assault her throat. Bloody hell it feels good, even as it makes her eyes water. It takes her a moment before she coughs, eyes clamping shut and shaking her head. Pushing the glass back towards Riona without a pause. ]

You've clearly never had Aqua Magus then.

[Riona's glad Hawke at least has something of a reaction, because she was starting to feel a bit like a pansy there for a moment. And maybe in comparison she is, but at least she feels a bit less so.

She fills up Marian's glass without question, though raises a brow at her comment.]

Can't say I have, though I've heard of the stuff. Is it really as bad as they say?

[ She doesn't hesitate on throwing back the next one, warmth of alcohol spreading across her limbs as throat burns. ]

If you like your spirits infused with refined lyrium it is.

[ A dangerous drink to be sure, but one Hawke herself has a great amount of fondness for. ]

[Riona pours out another for herself, holding the bottle in case Marian wants yet another one.]

You know, that means that one day, someone sat down and thought, "What can possibly make alcohol even more dangerous than it already is? Oh, I know. Lyrium! Let's add that shit to a drink." [She shakes her head.] Hard to tell if it was an inventive dwarf or a stupid templar that thought of that one.

[ Of course she takes another, shrugging flippantly. ]

Who knows. Whoever did was a bloody genius though, you can add a little dash of lyrium to even the shittiest ale and tastes almost 100% better.

[Riona sips more carefully at hers this time, still unable to not wince as she does so. But at least her throat's starting to lose feeling so that'll help.]

...damn. That might have helped with drinking Oghren's ale. Maker knows the stuff could have used it. [She takes another sip.] At least this stuff smells okay. His was... you ever get a whiff of a chamber pot full of piss left in the sun too long? It's that smell.

The worst it smells the better it is.

[ Hawke, on the other hand, throws caution to the wind downing as much as she is able to. ]

Wish that could have been said about Darktown though, that place smelt... bad.

Then you'd have loved his stuff. Homebrewed and foul smelling enough that even Kiter wouldn't go near it.

[Talking about the dog that loved chewing on socks. That had been worn all day, mind you.]

Well that's a... not very happy name for a place. A part of Kirkwall, I take it? I've never been, so I don't know it. Almost went there once, but Alistair wound up going instead.

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