001 || video & action

[pirasea]

Who: Isabela and everyone ever (or anyone who wants to talk to her, at least)
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: SS Huntress, or Marsiva if you can catch her in the brief time before she's assigned her ship.
When: In the hours pre-shuffle and just post-shuffle

[When Isabela wakes up the first thing she does is check for daggers. Which are, of course, absent. She checks both her surroundings and her person.]

Shit.

[Unsurprisingly voicing her frustration doesn't help. There doesn't even seem to be anything she can use as a makeshift weapon. Cautiously, she bends down to retrieve a rather magnificent hat that seems to have fallen off while she was still out. She feels around in that too. Just in case. Any concealed weapons it might have held at one time are no longer there, however.

Is it even possible for her to look any more pissed off? Evidently so.]

Comments

action, he died too young :'(

[pirasea]

[Well, if it isn't her favourite (ex-)templar]

Cullen! Look at how sexy you've grown up to be. Where did you get that scar?

[serves]

Sometime after the Chantry exploded.

[Deadpan. He's tired of saying "Hey, Anders blew up the Chantry!! How do you feel about that?" So he's just. Doing this now.]

[pirasea]

Obviously.

[Come on. She'd have noticed if it was before then.]

[serves]

Is that what you last remember, then?

[pirasea]

No. [And luckily the question doesn't strike her as one too weird since she's already learned that not everyone seems to be from even the same year.]

That was years ago. It's not what you last remember either.

[The scar makes that much obvious. It's not a recent one.]

[serves]

[That's something.]

Most of your companions seem to be behind. Anders, especially.

[pirasea]

So I hear. Hawke seems to be all right.

[Which is just as well, because the others being so far behind bothers her more than enough.]

[serves]

Is it your Hawke?

[pirasea]

From what I hear he's closer to being Anders'.

[Which is. Not what he means.]

[serves]

... what? [Riiight over his head. Kinda. He's just confused.]

[pirasea]

[Wow, Cullen. She sighs exasperatedly.]

They seem to rather fond of each other's staffs.

[serves]

[Maker's breath.]

That's--none of our business.

[pirasea]

Perhaps not, but it is rather enjoyable to imagine.

[At least she thinks so.]