There's white things in the air

[crowkiller]

Who: Zevran Arainai and You!!!!
Broadcast: Nope
Action: On the snowy marshmallow planet
When: right the hell now

Throwing Snowballs Instead of heads

[Zevran is busy uh...doing something. The last time he saw snow was in the Frostback Mountains, and even then it wasn't exactly like this. It didn't cover everything, it was cold, and it certainly didn't taste so sweet. But it did form a rather nice chunk in his hand.

He scoops up a bit more, rolls it into a ball between his hands, and lets it fly-- right into someone's face.]

Oh. [Oops. Maybe uh, he didn't think that he would hit anyone.] En garde?

And the Nightmares Can't Be Found

[The nightmares of the last planet are gone, and he is very must trying to take his mind off of things that occurred there. He does this in the only way he knows how-- to drink!

He found the nearest bar, bought a bottle of their top shelf brandy and now well, he needs someone to share it with. Maybe you were alone at the bar, maybe you are with a group of friends at the table. It doesn't matter. Your drinks look a bit empty and so he fills them (unless the person in question is obviously a child. Hot chocolate for you instead).]

Time to relax and enjoy our short time here, yes? [He isn't too excited to leave after that last stop they made.]

They Kiss? Why that looks so unique [Closed to Rowan]

[Zevran is quite excited the day the gift drops came. The box in the cargo bay is wrapped in that odd paper. He tears through it in a hurry, wondering what in the world it could be. He hopes its something useful at least. And what do you know...when he opens the box he sees his dagger. It's obvious that it is his, it wears the Crow's mark and is obviously Antivan made. As soon as it comes into his hands the flame rune on it ignites to life, and surrounds the blade with a magical fire. At least this makes him feel a bit more secure.

He is about to leave the cargo bay with his dagger back on his belt, but then he hears something. A shuffle, and then a bark, and a whimper. He pauses in his step and turns to see another gift, this one in a much larger box. And it's moving.

He takes a few steps towards it. His hand moves the tag over to see who it is for. It's addressed to Rowan. Now, he knows that opening things that aren't his is wrong, but if it's who he thinks it is in this box, then the box won't last long enough for him to grab Rowan and come back to the Cargo bay. So he pulls the bow loose, and as soon as that is done the giant Mabari war hound leaps out of the box and tackles Zevran onto his back. He is frozen for a moment before he feels a wet nose on his cheek and a even wetter tongue across his face.]

Why? Why must you go for the face?

[He mutters between before he laughs and his hand goes to the dog's jowls to push him away. Instead the dog just lies on top of him and Zevran lets out a loud sigh. Guess he isn't getting up. With a bit of a struggle he takes out his phone to text Rowan.]

You should come see what I found.

Comments

[trudge]

Found? Where?

[crowkiller]

Cargo bay.

[Hurry.]

[trudge]

omw

[ Rowan makes his way — quickly, but not too quickly. He assumes it's not an emergency given that Zevran texted him and all. ]

Zevran? [ He calls out when he reaches the cargo bay, turning a corner to see the elf on the ground. He'd be concerned if he didn't notice the reason for his current state lying atop him immediately afterwards. ] Bitey?

[crowkiller]

[When Bitey hears his name, his ears perk up. He stares down at Zevran whose eyebrows raise and his smile spreads.]

Who was that? [His eyes shift back to Rowan and Bitey turns his head. The hound freezes. His eyes in an unbreaking stare. A whimper comes from him and then a longer whine before a short bark, but he doesn't move.

Zevran takes this moment to push the hound off so he can sit up and he whispers something into his ear. Bitey moves, slowly and cautiously. He isn't sure if this is magic or not. The closer he gets, the more he whines and cries. His ears now back against his head. He stops in front of Rowan, unsure before he leans close and gives him a sniff. There is a pause before Bitey charges at him, a fury of kisses, slobber, and whimpers. If dogs could cry happy tears, there is no doubt that he would be right now.]

[trudge]

[ Rowan stares, his expression a mirror of the confused and mildly alarmed one the Mabari wears when he looks up at him. There's a very brief jolt of pain in his chest when he hears the whimper. He can't read minds — especially not dog minds — but there's no doubt that his most faithful life-long companion is uncertain of how to respond. His master, for all intents and purposes, should be dead.

He doesn't say anything at first; opting instead to simply crouch down and offer his hand out for the dog to smell. A part of him worries Bitey might just up and attack him, mistake him for a doppelganger or something. but he's pleasantly surprised when the beast pounces, and Rowan seems all too ready to catch him around the neck while he goes ham on the kisses. Bitey might not be crying, but Rowan sure is. ] Maker, I missed you you smelly bastard!

[crowkiller]

I'm glad that he isn't eating space rocks.

[Zevran chuckles as he finally stands back up. He watches the heart warming union and listens to the happy barks and laughter. Things have been difficult lately, he hopes this means there is an end to that-- if only for a short time.]

A good surprise, yes?

[trudge]

Shh, don't give him ideas. [ Bitey, as if on cue, perks his head up slightly. They're talking about him — but what are space rocks? Can he eat those? He nuzzles his face into Rowan's shoulder as the rogue pushes himself into a sitting position upon the cargo bay floor, squeezing his best dog friend tight. ]

A great surprise. Did you arrange this with Atroma?

[fantachetic]

[ Despite what other people are saying, the planet is freezing, thank you very much. Finally armed with a warmer coat, which had been an arduous task, he ventures through the city enough to find a decent bar to warm himself up with a bit of wine- unless there is a decent ale that doesn't taste like dragon piss.

He's alone for the time being, nursing his drink and trying to feel his fingers once again. Alone until someone he's unfamiliar with refills his drink for him. Dorian sighs, and it's a bittersweet thing. ]

I had been hoping for warm weather and sunshine, but I suppose this will do. The company, it seems, is making up for it.

[crowkiller]

[Ah yes, the cold is something he has just gotten use too over his year fighting the blight. Maker, did he miss the warm sun and waters of Antiva. But at least there are other ways to keep warm. They just had to get creative.

He smiles as he sits next to the handsome man with a...Tevene accent? Maybe.]

I'm glad the company is making things mildy better. [He smirks and pours himself a drink before he sets the bottle between them.] Having fun so far then?

[fantachetic]

[ Dorian answers him with a coy smile, tipping his drink in thanks before taking a sip. ]

Mm. Quite. It shows promise to be the best planet yet.

[ Of course, his first two being the one that was evacuated and then the one where they were almost eaten. It certainly has a head start on being the best. ] What of yourself?

[crowkiller]

The best one?

[He wonders just how many planets this man has seen. Zevran has only seen the one previous, that one he could do without seeing again.]

It's a break. [He shrugs.] I couldn't imagine staying here though.

[fantachetic]

Well, of the small handful of others, this one hasn't been wrought with tragedy. Hopefully it remains this way.

[ Dorian's sigh sounds incredibly frustrated. ]

Maker, I certainly hope not. It's entirely too cold for my taste.

[crowkiller]

How many systems have you seen?

[He only knows the death planet and then this one.]

Likewise, but I'd rather the cold over cannibals.

[fantachetic]

Three, as of this moment. The first one ended in evacuation. We're told that with any luck, the next generation of inhabitants may find it useful once more.

Drinks!

[poisontippedcure]

[How long has Rose been here? How many drinks has she downed?]

[...Some questions are better left unanswered.]

[She turns to Zevran with an (almost uncharacteristic) smile and raises her glass.]

To these moments of peace, however short-lived they may be.

[crowkiller]

[Oh. A pretty lady.....with cat ears? Are those ears? He's never seen someone with those sort of ears before. He knows better than to just point them out and ask though.......at least while sober. He raises his own glass to clink against her's before he drinks.]

Something tells me our next location will not be as forgiving.

[poisontippedcure]

Yes, I'm not sure why, but I have the same feeling.

[Shes sober enough she's smiling, but each word is still dripping with sarcasm. Rose happily chugs the rest of the glass.]

It would be much easier if we knew how long we had left. I don't think the Atroma are too eager to share that information with us, though.

[crowkiller]

We can't be that lucky.

[That last one makes his eyebrows raise.]

I thought it was just until they got tired of us. [Or something like that.]

[poisontippedcure]

You may be correct. [That's a happy thought.]

After all, the only reason they've ever given for bringing us here is that we're to serve as 'entertainment.'

[crowkiller]

Well, I know for sure why they brought me here, I'm very entertaining.

[He grins as he offers her more drink.]

Have you been here for long?

Throwing Snowballs

[wolfehawke]

Andraste's rosey arsecheeks, this is the third time today!

[Adalwolfe sets his bundle down and wipes the snow from his face, trying to get it out of his beard before it turns sticky. He'd been trying to lug firewood back towards the city as he'd been hired to do for some spare coin, but it seems that every fetch quest he's on today he keeps getting pelted by members of the fleet who've taken a snow day.]

Do you really want to challenge a Winter mage to a snowball fight or was that just ill aimed?

[He's been in several already since the Fleet arrived and he can't imagine his reputation doesn't precede him in the subject of winter warfare.]

[crowkiller]

If you are a winter mage, and this is the third time today, you really should have seen it coming.

[This little shit. Sorry Hawke, feel free to hit him at anytime.

But while distracted by talking and firewood, Zevran gets another ball of the fluffy white stuff and hurls it.]

[wolfehawke]

Being a mage doesn't mean I'm clairvoyant.

[Damn you. He does see it coming this time though, if barely and less because he noticed the movement and more because he expects Zevran to just be that kind of jerkass. Instead if ducking out of the way, he throws out his hand as if to catch it, instead using his magic to send it hurtling back at Zevran. It may lose some mass on the way, but that's still better than being beaned in the face.]

[crowkiller]

I suppose you need to work on that.

[His eyes widen when he sees what exactly is happening and ducks out of the way before anything smacks him.]

Nice move.

[wolfehawke]

Funny how skills learned to keep you from being murdered find use in snowball fights, isn't it?

[He's just going to scoop up some snow and toss his own ammunition now. Heads up!]