driftfleet | open.

Who: Merrill.
Broadcast: Fleet-wide.
Action: SS First Breath, whenever.
When: APR 12 - 18.

Oh. Oh dear.

[ Is it a Welsh pixie? It certainly sounds like one. Pointed ears, short black hair, intricate tattoos across the angular plains of her face. But no, despite the accent, Merrill is neither Welsh, nor pixie.

Currently she's balancing on one bare foot, trying to shake something brown and sloppy off the other. It would be easy to jump to the wrong conclusion at first, but everyone gets a dessert when they arrive, so closer examination will make it clear that she's only stepped in chocolate cream.

Though really, how she's managed that is anyone's guess. ]

I am... so sorry. It wasn't something important, was it? Eugh, it's all slimy.

[ Given she took a while to get used to Kirkwall, a couple of days prowling about the Marsiva and her brand new augment really aren't adequate preparation for the sleek metal and digital displays of a spaceship.

Though later, she might be found in Engineering, trying to work out how she knows anything at all about this strange contraption, but also delighting in the fact that she has all this new knowledge, and more right there to learn about. Merrill isn't very good with people, but she loves magic, and to her view all of this technology isn't too different.

Or you can always call her once she's washed off her feet. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I am a necromancer, trained in the teachings of the Mortalitasi. And you?

I'm ... I suppose I'm a blood mage, though mostly I've a focus on nature.

Blood mage.

[He nearly spits the words, his pleasant face twisting into anger.]

Of course you'd want to go to Tevinter, then, wouldn't you? You think you could cozy up to the others. Mages like you are the last thing anyone needs.

[ For a moment, Merrill looks like she might cry. But then she sterns her jaw and lifts her chin, big green eyes narrowing. It's not as though she hasn't heard this all before, from people she cares about far more than Dorian of House Pavus. ]

If people in Tevinter are anything like you, I'm not sure they'd be very cozy at all.

[Things Fenris doesn't need in his life right now: this. ]

I'm going to say this once and once alone.

Dorian, I like it about as much as you do, but given seeing a bled out corpse of another elf has done little to make her realise the danger she possesses, I doubt anything you can say to her will either. Best not waste your breath.

Merrill, aside from an astounding ability to put his foot into his mouth Dorian is absolutely nothing like the people in Tevinter. But no. They would not be cosy. As I have told you. Multiple times.

So let's save a lot of shouting,in-group fighting and magic thrown about and agree to ignore one another's existence from here on in, hmm? Because if I end up having to tear you both off one another I can promise neither of you will enjoy the experience.

[Is this what it feels like to be Hawke? Trying to put out fires before they start all the time? Because that job sucks. ]

Ugh.

Edited 2015-04-21 19:39 (UTC)

Was there going to be shouting? And magic thrown about? That all sounds very dramatic.

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