if you love me let me go (OPEN)

[trudge]

Who: Rowan Cousland and all the unfortunate souls he might run into
Broadcast: Text
Action: The Bishop, The Iskaulit, Probably everywhere else he's allowed.
When: Anytime after 11/23



It's been a little over a week since they returned to Orbit, and apparently that is too long for Rowan Cousland to be sober and left to his own devices. Zevran is around, and there are a few others who 'visit' his blanket-fort bedroom for idle romps. But none of them keep the nagging voice in the back of his head at bay. No amount of mind-blowing sex or company of any sort keeps him from thinking of everything that's happened. It was easier on the planet to forget, to not think about anything because there were cannibals to kill and people to protect. No time to think. No time to remember. No time to regret.

He had time now, though. Too much. Back home he never regretted anything he did, not even dying, but that had been easier when death was the last and final thing that came. Now, he was alive again, with the knowledge that his brother was alive and left alone. Once he had been the last Cousland. Now it was Fergus, and it was his fault. And Zevran —

No. He needed to forget. He needed a distraction. He needed alcohol.

Soooo much alcohol.


GUESS WHO'S DRUNK? I guess Rowan.

He starts off at The Space Bar simply because it had the word 'bar' in it. He's there every night for at least a week, for hours on end taking shot after shot and mug after mug of whatever he can shove down his throat. He doesn't have a lot of money on hand, but he has a silver tongue, crafty hands, and enough charisma to charm the fuck out of some other patrons if necessary.

He flirts with everyone of legal age and the more he drinks the more ridiculous he becomes. Which is saying a lot, because he's ridiculous to begin with.

If he recognizes someone, they're approached almost immediately by a likely inebriated Rowan — a drink in his hand and the most fake smile you've ever seen in your life. He pulls it off though, somehow. Years of practice? Definitely. He unceremoniously slams his drink on the table, sloshing whatever liquid is inside around onto the wood.

"Fancy meeting you here." He says with all the eloquence of a completely shitfaced sailor. "Buy a girl a drink?" But he already has a drink, you say? Rowan downs the remainder of his alcohol in one long swig, shaking his head afterwards as the fire hits his throat. Anyway, buy a girl a drink?

Alternatively, for those he doesn't recognize so easily — no, nevermind, there's no alternatively. He's doing the same thing.


He eventually migrates to Malum at some point, already drunk and probably kicked out for a) starting (finishing) a fight, b) hitting on the waitstaff, c) peeing in a corner, or d) all of the above. The neon lights are pretty and distracting; just what he needs during this long bender he's secretly hoping might end with him in a coma.

He tries to behave a little better despite his absolutely piss poor state of being, but it's all for not when he spots the beautiful shiny pole on the dancefloor. After asking around a bit on the true purpose of the pole, Rowan decides he's going to use it for its intended purpose. He shoves some broody nerd leaning against it - trying to chat up some uninterested woman. have some class - and promptly sheds his shirt, garnering the attention of everyone nearby. Disgusted? Intrigued? Slightly aroused? All solid responses to an inebriated man shimmying up an down the pole. He's not a great poledancer, but he's flexible and nice to look at?


THE BISHOP
Most of the time Rowan passes out in someone else's room, or in the hallway on some ship (the Bishop, the Iskaulit, somewhere else??), and it's only if he's really lucky that he ends up back in his own room. Even through a haze of alcohol the sight of the blanket fort still, for whatever reason, always seems to upset him. He remembers him and Zevran excitedly building it together, he remembers telling him that he and Fergus used to do this, and then he remembers the knowledge that set all of this off in the first place.

He should be happy. And he is! He's fucking ecstatic to hear that his brother is alive. But Rowan isn't. Rowan pissed his potential future away when he decided to be a hero. He throws the small bottle in his hand clear across the room, shattering it and letting the remaining contents trickle down the wall. It looks like blood - red, seeping blood that reminds him of home in the worst possible way.

He should be happy, but he isn't. Second chances don't matter if you piss them away, too. Lying and faking your way through them like you did the first time. He's pathetic.


TEXT
ANYONE DTF? ??? ?????? ?????? [ That's it. ]


( OOC: feel free to decide how drunk you want rowan to be when you meet him/when during his bender it is. or just wing it. if you want a specific scenario hmu @ winemom and we can discuss something! C: also you can switch to brackets if you want. )

Comments

Málum

[onlyanapple]

Crowley is absolutely watching this with utter delight. Because finally, FUCKING FINALLY, someone used the stripper pole. Very quickly, Rowan might find himself being circled by this strange creature as Crowley leans across the bar to watch smugly.

"Don't mind Tim, his owner bet me no one would ever use that thing, so I'm having him record it for prosperity - in case he ever comes back and I can laugh in his face, " the demon gives a thumbs up. "Nice moves, by the way. You've earned yourself a free drink."

[trudge]

Rowan's first instinct is to try and snatch 'Tim' out of the air, but coordination is hard and it's pretty clear in the way the thing moves that even if he wasn't completely sloshed he might have a hard time grabbing it. You win this round, buddy.

"I'm truly honored to be the first to grind against this shiny pole." He says with a laugh, grinning as he starts to slow down while an actual conversation is happening. Someone in the crowd "aww's" in disappointment. "If I take my pants off do I get two free drinks?"

The Bishop

[crowkiller]

Zevran isn't sure if he will ever be use to space. He remembered looking up at the night sky as a child and wondered if the Maker was looking down on them, and why He did nothing to help him. He had those thoughts again around the dying campfire with threats of Darkspawn in the distance, and again as pryes burned. The only thing he saw were stars now. The Maker was not a part of his thoughts.

He has only spend one night in his room. The rest of the nights have been in Rowan's, whether he is there or not. Even if he didn't make it back at night, it was still more comfortable for him to be in a room that was warm with his scent than to be cold and left alone with his thoughts.

He isn't exactly sure what time it is, but he is tired so it doesn't matter. He heads back to Rowan's room, and as soon as he steps in he hears the scattering sound of glass against the wall. His heart leaps into his throat and his first instinct is to defend himself- because clearly someone broke into their room. His hand goes to the knife at his thigh but he stop when he sees who threw it.

"Rowan?" His eyebrows raise as he cautiously closes the door and takes another step in. "Why did you-" he looks back at the bottle. The glass on the floor, the red against the wall. He's trying not to show how uncomfortable he is. But he's never seen Rowan like this.

"What's wrong?" He isn't even going to ask if he is ok. He knows he isnt.

[trudge]

Rowan tenses. Zevran's voice, in every moment but this one, would be a welcome reprieve from the previously mentioned nagging voice in the back of his mind. As it stands however, he is the last person that he wanted to see. No, that's not right — Rowan wanted to see him. He never wanted to be away from him. But he didn't want Zevran to see him in such a deplorable, pathetic state. He already cried on him once since they found each other. He couldn't risk doing so again.

What's wrong? Let him narrow the list down to what's right; that won't take so much time. He turns to look over his shoulder, instinctively smiling despite the hollow, hazy look in his eyes from lack of sleep, a continuous headache, and the ridiculous amount of alcohol he's imbibed in the past week.

"Nothing, now that you're here." He murmurs, and it's the truth even though it's spoken like a line he'd use on practically anyone in this moment. A line Zevran's probably heard a thousand times while Rowan's trying to coerce him into sleeping with him again. That's all they do. That's all they ever do. "I missed you." And again there's so many underlying meanings behind those words. So many unsaid feelings. He missed him, missed being home with him and even if there was a Blight, at least they had been together.

He steps closer as he finally turns around, reaching for the elf out of instinct and stumbling closer to try and bury his face in his neck. Rowan smells like twenty different kinds of booze, perfume, cologne, and possibly of vomit. Sorry.

Space Bar

[bryces_pup]

Riona doesn't frequent the bars as much as she used to. Fewer reasons to and all that. Still, she comes in every now and again to grab a drink and say hello to Fenris and the other staff here. Tonight she's nursing a glass of wine when she sees Rowan from the corner of her eye. A smile forms, but it diminishes a little when he stumbles over, and she can see how clearly inebriated he is. Something's a little... off. Something in his smile and the way he just knocks back his drink.

"How about this girl drinks a bit of water for now?"

[trudge]

Oh, hey. It's the other him. The lady him, that's not actually him but also is at the same time? The one that lived, the one that did things right and acted like an actual person instead of a walking trash fire.

Maker, he's so jealous.

"Water makes me more sober. That is the opposite of what I'm going for." He says with a pout, shaking his head in protest.

space bar

[asphodels]

Aerith's interest in the space bars is minimal at best but she goes there because she can get something simple to drink - often without alcohol, because she has very little interest in it - and sometimes have some quiet. When someone comes in and starts making her little quiet space a little noisier she watches him. It's easy to recognise that something's wrong, and she takes her drink to go over and talk to him. It's the best option, even when he absolutely goes out of his way to hit on her.

All it does is make her laugh.

"I have enough boyfriends." Settling down, she tilts her head. "Would you like another drink, maybe?"

[trudge]

"Yes." Finally someone is encouraging his shitty coping mechanisms and letting him drink himself stupid! You're alright, Aerith. Rowan lets her order the drink — because he honestly couldn't care less what it is, so long as it has alcohol in it and so long as it keeps his buzz going.

What she said before hits him about five minutes after the fact. His brows furrow. "How many boyfriends do you have?"

text

[wolfehawke]

whats a dtf?

[trudge]

Down To Fuck

u in?

Malum

[apurrstate]

[Malum was always his first choice of haunt, more from habit than from actual appreciation of the surroundings. Tonight, however, he was appreciating the new surrounding.

He was hopelessly taken, not dead.]

Glad to see someone's having fun with that thing.

[trudge]

[ There's plenty to appreciate now that Rowan's been given the go ahead to start stripping more off. He's halfway to getting his pants off when he hears Anders speak. ]

You should try it.

BISHOP YO

[speedboat]

Howard is having an early night for once, or at least he was until his shipmate comes barging in and drops right into the bed he was about to occupy. Uh. All he can do is blink for a long moment, especially when it becomes clear just how wasted this guy is -- he doesn't think they've been formally introduced yet. He's trying to get better about names okay.

He sighs and drops into a crouch near Rowan's head, trying to pick up what the other man is muttering to himself. "I usually wouldn't protest such a willing bedpartner, but I was about to get my first shut-eye in 72 hours, pal."

[trudge]

Oh, is this not his room? He should have known — there's a severe lack of a stupid blanket fort encompassing the entirety of it. Oh well.

"No one's saying we can't share."

text

[helmsplitter]

[Because weird texts coming in at weird times of the night should always be answered.]

Who is this? And what does that code mean?

[trudge]

rowan cousland

are you down to fuck?

[ofkirkwall]

always ;)

[ Also holy shit is she glad you're alive buddy. ]

[trudge]

ur place?

space bar

[scanninggaydis]

That's absolutely a look that Felix is used to. Not so much the shitfaced drunk part (although, okay, that too sometimes maybe) but the smile. The veneer of 'everything is okay' when nothing is actually okay.

He's gently nursing a drink of his own, and reading a book. Because he's a nerd. When Rowan slams a drink down next to him, he jumps slightly and just barely manages to shift his book out of the way.

...Anyway. That's...some introduction. Felix watches as Rowan knocks back his drink. He begins with his brows furrowed together, but slowly that shifts to him raising one of them.

"...You think that's the best idea?"

I mean. He gets it. The urge to be shitfaced. He does. But Rowan is really quite drunk. And far be it for him to deny anyone their right to keep drinking, but Rowan is asking Felix to pay for the opportunity.

[trudge]

WHO READS BOOKS IN A BAR. Maybe that's the question Rowan asked himself when he stupidly stumbled over here, hellbent on finding out what kind of nerd does something like that. Or maybe he just thought Felix was hot. Or both. Either way, he's here.

"Absolutely." He says, fully confident in his decision to get himself utterly blackout drunk. "I'll pay you back?" Winky face.

Space Bar

[cajunspice]

[For the most Remy typically works in the kitchen, cooking for the bar, but he is brought to the front now and then as people take breaks or it gets busy. So Rowan isn't a strange sight in the bar, and amusing enough when drunk that Remy isn't going to kick him out for having no money, or if he is able to scam anyone into paying for his drinks. Though he is keeping an eye on the man if he decides to steal, possibly a little hypocritical coming from Remy, but he tends to avoid stealing of Fleetmates.]

Do hope won't have to be pourin' ya out of the bar tonight. [Though it is said as he pours yet another drink for Rowan, and one for himself while he's at it.]

[trudge]

[ Rowan's doing his best to keep things on the up and up. Or, well, as 'up and up' as a piss-drunk Grey Warden can keep things. He generally flirts, asks for favors and promises to return them if his target actually gets him a drink. It works most of the time. ]

I can make no promises, but I'll do my best to stumble out of the bar on my own. [ He takes the drink, tipping it toward Remy. ] Unless you want to personally escort me home. I wouldn't be opposed to that either.

Space Bar

[dreamofakuze]

[He's more nursing his drink than seeing how quickly he can down it. He might end up turning the night into a haze, but he hasn't made that decision just yet. For now, he's thinking too much to let go, at least until thinking too much becaomes the problem.

Although a guy coming up to the bar asking if he'd 'buy a girl a drink' definitely throws whatever thoughts he'd been turning out the window. Karman's brow raises, but his tone is amused.]

Maybe. What's the 'girl' drinking?

[trudge]

Anything with alcohol in it. [ He says simply, grinning as he does so. ] Have a favorite drink? I'll try it. Even if it tastes like piss I don't care.

Malum

[fantachetic]

[ Typically, Dorian doesn't have a favorite bar that he haunts- it's a fleeting thing depending entirely upon his mood and the ambiance he's looking for. Tonight, Malum's upscale appearance is what he's looking for. After he's moved to his second glass of wine, he starts to pay attention to the other patrons around him. Most of them are cloistered in pairs or in a small group, enjoying their evening the same as he is. Save for one person.

One very attractive person behaving like one of the uninhibited dancers in a certain Minrathous establishment. Maker, that makes him homesick. Certainly very nice to look at. Grabbing his wine glass, he wanders a bit closer to watch this man strut his stuff with an appraising eye. ]

Imagine the damage you could do with the proper technique. [ He clicks his tongue. ] Could we possibly handle it?

[trudge]

[ Rowan knows approximately jack shit about pole dancing. but he does know how to shake his ass and make it look like he knows what he's doing. He has his attractiveness going for him, too, along with the fact that the owner of the establishment thinks it's hilarious to watch him try to sexily undress in the most unsexy fashion on the stage.

He turns to look at Dorian. That accent — he can't quite place it, but's familiar. Reminds him vaguely of home in his half-drunk daze. He grins. ]

It would surely be catastrophic if I actually knew what I was doing. [ Thank god he doesn't, right? ] People would be fighting each other just to get a good look at me. It'd be madness — pure madness.