driftfleet | 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? ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Not at all, it's not worth it anyway, all the praying. They never listen. It's basically like farting into the wind, for all the good it'll do you in the long run.

[He is always only too happy to put down any and all deities, because fuck them.]

Seriously?

[ For a moment she looks... offended, then she bursts out into laughter. Hideous almost uncontrollable laughter. ]

That's─ Andraste's tits, that's hilarious! Think of all those priests and sisters who have wasted months, no, years of their lives praying to something dont listen! [ She snorts a little then, shaking her head. ] The looks on their faces if they ever found out would be priceless.

Seriously. They love all their praying and whatnot, and it honestly does sweet fuck all. But I suppose people do feel the need to cling to their faith. That Someone up there actually gives a shit about them.

[ Hawke scoffs then waving a hand about the air. ]

It's stupid and exhausting, easier to just accept that the world is a pile of shit and no higher power is going to save you from it.

That's exactly the right attitude to take. Might as well just live it while you can. You're mortal- your time is horribly brief as it is. No need to take up time worrying about things beyond your control.

I'm exceptionally good at living mostly worry free. I only worry about my idiot brother and my friends, because life will suck without them.

[ She pauses for a moment, expression twisting with pain. ]

Sometimes is suck with them too, but they're family so what can you do?

Yeah, well. We all let ourselves get suckered into that thing. Giving a shit about people and letting them become important parts of our lives.

[That...isn't a good expression. There's a moment of concern that crosses Crowley's face, before he settles into a neutral expression again. ]

Sometimes they're arseholes, hmm?

Yeah, giant assholes.

[ Her shoulders slump a little, her gaze almost distant. ]

The worst are the ones who manage to bury so deep that when it all goes to hell it feels like they tore a hole in your chest.

[ Dammit, she needs more to drink. ]

Those suck.

Ah, right. Those ones are the absolute worse.

[Suddenly, he's getting an idea that something really unpleasant has happened to her. He won't press her too much. He doesn't want to kick that wasp nest. ]

I find kicking them first is probably the best way of dealing with that. Or kicking them harder after they've fucked you over. Either or.

I like that idea.

[ Only because she is definitely in the later stages of intoxication, of course. Sober Hawke would by no means want to be anywhere near Fenris right now, let alone the Tourist. ]

I should have kicked them, or at the very least shit them with my staff. That thing is sturdy, it's not hard to use it as a melee weapon.

[Alcohol is both your best friend and worst enemy in this regard. ]

Sounds like. But look at you, taking the high road and getting drunk here, instead. Good on you.

The high road tastes better. [ She motions at him with her drink. ] And you got a lot of really good drinks. Don't know why I rarely came here before.

[ Loyalty probably, that and nostalgia for the Hanged Man. ]

Does it? Are you sure about that? [He flashes her a sharp-toothed grin. ] Because you're probably more fond of the shit-hole that Varric made? This place is more classy.

Today it does. [ Her head lulls toward the exit and Varric's bar. ] Mmm, you're probably right. It reminds me of home─ Well, it reminds me of the Hanged Man. That place was practically home for a long time. And Varric, reminds me of Varric.

[ Just the name has her reaching for the signet ring around her neck, idly fiddling it as she takes a long drink. ]

[He notices, of course, canting his head. He's not going to push her, though.]

Hm. Good man, was Varric. I liked him.

[ Yeah, she is just going to fiddle with it for a while. It's comforting. ]

You're not so bad yourself. [ She looks up at him with a sly sort of grin on his face. ] Especially for a demon.

[He pulls a face, why do people always feel the need to be so vocal about that? Ugh. ]

Yesss, but don't make a big show of it or say it all that loudly.

[ That just makes her grin, leaning towards him slowly. ]

But what if I want to? What if I wanna yell it off the highest point of the Fleet?

And I'm sure everyone would believe you while you're sauced off your face.

Hey! I can be very persuasive if I want to be. [ She almost pouts at him. ] I even made friends with thugs sent to assassinate me once.

[He arches a brow, leaning back a little. ]

Is that so? So they didn't attack you, in the end? Obviously they didn't kill you because here you are- not dead.

Nope! But they did come back every second weekend to play a game of Wicked Grace with me.

[ SKILLS MAN, SHE HAS THEM. ]

How about that. You really do have a way with people.

[ She puffs up proud, grin stretching across her face. ]

I know.

all this time.

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