And here we go again!

garrett hawke, affiliated with isola est. 12/14/2020

[ichorbane]

GARRETT HAWKE (dragon age)

apostate mage who juuust gets by with enough good deeds to avoid being shipped off to the circle

and he’s the champion of kirkwall. aaand a noble as well. sovereigns and reputation help.

leader of a “merry band of misfits”. or, er, he was.

every rumor about him throughout thedas probably sounds like a chuck norris joke

sometimes he’s a little “no thoughts, head empty”

very flirtatious. does he mean it? probably.

second nature to flirting is making everything a joke

don’t hurt his friends and family or get involved with any sort of demons or red lyrium idols and he’s fine with you! probably!

[ichorbane]

relansi​:

“Well, if I had to, I’d find a way. But I don’t think it would be very comfortable if I had to drag you to the- uh- surgeon.” Carefully, she offers herself as support. Not a very steady one, given the height of razor thin stilettos and the delicacy of her petite form, but nevertheless, she stands ready to help.

It doesn’t take her long before she realizes that she doesn’t actually know where they’re going. These streets are foreign, and the ice sheets that coat the town from tip to toe aren’t exactly helpful when it comes to establishing her bearings. Still, Winni maintains her smile, gaze scanning the horizon for any sign of a possible chirurgeon.

It simply wouldn’t do to admit that she is lost. She is the Warrior of Light, after all. A beacon of hope for the people of Eorzea. An invincible heroine who cannot afford to show weakness. Also, coincidentally, completely ignorant of this city’s layout. Winni spots a nearby bench, and with a light tug in that direction, tries to veer towards Hawke towards it. “I… ehe, I need a moment. I need to… look at the service rates and make sure I… I want to have the necessary gil prepared beforehand.”

Winni-speak for being positive that she saw a map on her little message device and needs to take a peek at it.

❝ Sure, ❞ Hawke replies. Truthfully, he had suspicions that she didn’t know the way, but it wasn’t as if he knew any better; luckily he hadn’t needed to rely upon medical assistance until this point. A month with no substantial bleeding? New record! Hawke plops down on the bench and waits, and waits. Leaning forward on his forearms, watching his savior as she worked at her phone. They hadn’t really become acquainted, had they? Not on a first name basis, anyway. And for some reason he wasn’t privy to referring to her as “catgirl”.  ❝ You know, I just realized this entire time it hadn’t occurred to me to introduce myself. Bad habit of mine. ❞ Feeling a bit off balance, he sits back, resting an arm on the back of the bench. ❝ I’m Hawke. And you, my noble savior, are...? ❞ He gestures to her, expectantly.

[ichorbane]

relansi​:

Finally she thinks to wipe her screen off, and triumphantly, she manages to type up a short little message. Though she does first look over her surroundings to get an idea of where she is, and what point of reference she can use to others. “Okay! I guess now the real issue is finding a chirur… ah, surgeon.”

When he remarks on the handkerchief, Winni offers another smile. This man’s been through enough, after all, and doesn’t need to feel bad about a silly little scrap of fabric. “Why are you sorry? I gave it to you so you can clean up, didn’t I? Blood is always the least of my worries.”

She extends a hand to take it back. “Are you… dizzy, at all? Or have a headache? I just want to make sure you don’t pass out or anything before we get there. I… ehe, I don’t think I could manage to carry you myself.”

❝ I’m alright. ❞ He says, placing the kerchief in her palm. Does he want to know what she sent out in her message? Sort of, but disassociating himself from that entire situation may be the best for his sanity, even if it isn’t the noblest of things to do. But if she somehow figured him lively enough to go on the excursion... That would be a different story. There was a very miniscule chance of that even happening, however. But even a miniscule chance was a significantly larger change when you had the luck of Garrett Hawke. ❝ But really, already you give up on the idea of carrying me? ❞ Hawke jokes, dryly. ❝ Come now, I’m not that heavy. I bet you could manage if you had to. ❞ Jokes aside, he may not need carrying but he may have to rely upon her to keep him upright on the way to the hospital. Given the significant blood loss he had suffered, he was feeling a tad bit lightheaded. Luckily for Winni, he had lost enough blood in his life to know what feeling warrants passing out, and this wasn’t one of those feelings.

[ichorbane]

relansi​:

“Unfortunately, I’ve had a run in with them already. They’re… pretty intimidating! I’ll give them that. But I wasn’t planning on going alone, either.” She holds up the phone and gives it a little shake. “I really don’t like roping bystanders into these sorts of situations, but, well, without my magick, ehe… the options are slim.”

She pats him reassuringly on the shoulder, all the while still trying to visually gauge how hard of a knock to the head this guy got. “The sooner they’re dealt with, the sooner we can all rest easy, right? Oh, and… here, take this.” She reaches into her pouch and offers a small handkerchief, well used and well stained but recently washed. “For the, y’know.” She gestures to her mouth to try and convey that the poor chap still has bloodied lips.

Determined, she goes to type on the phone, but the blood and saliva on her finger leaves the screen unresponsive. Winni tilts her head to one side, uncertain, and taps more aggressively a few times before she decides to try wiping her hand on her dress. Except now the blood and saliva is also on the phone screen. With an awkward laugh, Winni taps at it some more to no avail, then turns her attention back to Hawke. “An-y-way, you didn’t tell me where you ran into them. If you don’t remember, that’s okay. I just need a starting point, if you can manage it.”

Though she does note that she should probably take any details with a grain of salt. Unless these golems truly do have a yet-to-be-seen penchant for defending the honor of their parentage. Then she’d really owe this guy an apology.

Hawke wordlessly takes the kerchief, supposing it shouldn’t be surprising that he’s got blood all over his mouth. He glances down and thanks the Maker that it didn’t make it on his shirt. That would’ve been a pain to get out. ❝ It’s been a bit since I saw them, ❞ Hawke muses, continually dabbing at his lip, pulling the kerchief away and then going back at it, dissatisfied. Seeing his blood on her screen makes him feel a little nauseated for some reason, so he opts to look up at her instead. ❝ Last I saw they were going... Right down the street from here. ❞ He points in a direction. Any direction. It doesn’t matter, it’s a lie.  As he pulls the handkerchief away once more, he grimaces. That was a lot of blood. Hopefully she had more where that came from, he couldn’t see this one being a nice accessory any longer. He holds it up to her with two fingers, to show what a mess he had made of the thing. ❝ I doubt you’d want this back now? Sorry about it, by the way. ❞ He could be wrong, but if it was his he’d probably burn it.

[ichorbane]

relansi​:

If only he’d been there years ago when the hero complex first started rearing its ugly head. Unfortunately, his efforts to quash her need to avenge this man’s pride (and almost teeth!) are far too little too late, and though she doesn’t pull away when the man places a hand over the screen, she listens with ears that twitch in confusion, tail swishing and flicking at her backside with unease.

“I… I’m sorry, sir,” she starts, slowly, “I-I’m worried you may have gotten a concussion or something. I don’t think… I’m pretty sure, at least, that they would have attacked you regardless of any insults you might have let slip.”

Maybe getting him to the chirurgeon (or surgeon, as he said) should be her priority. Still, someone needed to try and locate the monsters, to make sure that no one else got hurt. Winni tries to gently nudge Hawke’s hand away from her phone. Lips slide into a reassuring smile, a little wider than a genuine smile should be. “It’s okay! I promise, I’m stronger than I look. Dealing with these kinds of things… well, it’s what I do best. You don’t need to worry about me getting hurt. Let’s just say it wouldn’t be the first time.” She shrugs her left shoulder to draw his attention to the long and jagged lightning scar that snakes down her bicep and forearm like a many-pronged labyrinth. A gesture to say, ‘see! I don’t mind getting bopped in the face by a golem if it means no one else gets a bleeding tongue’.

❝ You don’t believe golems have mothers? ❞ Hawke counters reflexively before he can catch himself. Stupid. Great. What were his options now? She thinks I have a concussion, she isn’t going to listen to a word I say. What would he normally do in this situation? Well, normally there would either actually be golems, by some odd, ironic twist of fate. Or he would double down on his lie until he was believed. But option two was clearly out of the picture. She believes herself to be capable, but she truly has no idea what this place takes from things upon their arrival. He’s well aware of it, if any indication of the scraps he had gotten into and barely made it out of weren’t enough. Without magic, he would be lost if he didn’t have Carver’s combat training under his belt. For some reason, he doesn’t know if he trusts that she could defend herself. She is rather small, after all. And he doesn’t see any weapons on her; he at least had a stick.

❝ Maker, forget I said that, ❞ Hawke rubs his forehead. ❝ Look, you shouldn’t go after these things, no matter how strong you are. I promise you nothing good will come of it. They’re made out of diamond. And don’t you think this is my fight to finish? I am the one with the mangled tongue. ❞ 

[ichorbane]

fatespitter​:

 “No. I am. Merely realistic.” because sadness is something that cannot be expressed through normal means, especially for a man like Patriot. Whose past is very expansive. He wants to live a normal life, but that died out when he killed his own son. There is nothing more to do than wait for the right time to… 

 “I am not. a cheery man.” he admits. “You should. Stay with those who. Understand you more. In this city. it can eat. at you , this. loneliness.”

 “You. Remind me. Of how old I am. That is good, your youth. Is valuable. important to. live.”

a man with a motorycle comes , he carries paper bags, Patriot carefully signs and the food is on the table. the man is gone. 

 “Enjoy.”

Stomach growling, Hawke digs through the bags to grab his meal. He hardly has any idea what this is, just that it seems very tomato-y, which is something he can appreciate.  ❝ It’s funny you say that, ❞ Hawke muses, grabbing a fork and poking at the ravioli. He thinks he may have seen a similar dish somewhere. ❝ I can’t say I’ve met too many people who understand me in this city. ❞ Sure, there was that Grey Warden, Loghain, but he hardly sees himself getting too chummy with him. Considering what he did to King Cailan and Ferelden, he doesn’t know if he’d be able to, really. He’s always had pride for his homeland, and that hasn’t changed. He pauses to take a large bite, the hot ravioli making his eyes water a bit. This is when he turns to the tomato juice to help him down it. ❝ I really meant it, ❞ Hawke says through a semi-full mouth after a healthy swig of juice. He didn’t love tomato juice, truthfully. He could see himself getting nasty indigestion later. ❝ When I said it’s not a bad thing to have a, what did you say, realist? A realist around. ❞ Hawke points at Patriot with his fork before digging back in.  ❝ Oddly enough, I enjoy your company. I mean, obviously. Do you think I’d sit down for lunch with anyone? ❞ Obvious yes aside, Hawke continued after another bite. ❝ Maker, this is good. Would you like some? ❞

[ichorbane]

relansi​:

At first, her eyes widen. Large feline pupils shine with horror, then settle into a determined furrow. “That’s horrible,” she says, the clawed nails on her off-hand digging into the flesh of her palm as they curl into a fist. “I didn’t think they were that intelligent… Twelve! I thought they were just lumbering brutes.”

She ponders for a moment, visibly weighing her options. Would it be foolish to go running off into danger with not just one, but two of the monsters when she has no weapon other than her book? No spells other than weak curative magick? “Mm…” She hums, then stows the book away in favor of her strange handheld Linkpearl. “Can you tell me where you last saw them?” She says, opening a mass text, then looking up to Hawke with those big ole eyes, ready to transcribe the information as best she can.

“If someone as large as you couldn’t get away without a struggle…” Winni frowns, and brings a nail to her lips to gently scratch the top of her teeth- the closest she can get to nailbiting without actually indulging. “This is a lot worse than I thought.”

Oh no no, what was she thinking? That determined look Winni had; it could mean nothing good. Guilt settled into Hawke’s gut like a heavy stone sinking to the bottom of a pond. Was she going to rally people for this cause? Have everyone out on a wild goose chase over some made-up-but-probably-very-real golems he hadn’t encountered? ❝ No! Don’t-- don’t worry yourself with that, ❞ Hawke says quickly, putting his hand over her cell phone. Put that thing away. ❝ You’ve already done so much for me, I can’t have you putting yourself in harms way. ❞ He feels, instinctually, that she would try and play hero. He knew her type, recklessly running head-first into danger for the greater good. These fake golems were not only a danger to someone like him (what did she say? large?), but also a danger to others. It was a mindset that he was all too familiar with, and he had to shut that hero complex down immediately. ❝ It wasn’t as if they attacked me randomly. You see, I was angry about being locked out of my house and incorrectly directed my anger toward them. ❞ Hawke really was just spouting his usual ad-libbed nonsense, something that came effortlessly to a man who uses humor to cope with his messed up life. ❝ I made some rather rude remarks about their mother that I’d rather not repeat, but I immensely regret I assure you. This tongue thing was well-deserved. ❞

[ichorbane]

relansi​:

Like a proverbial hawk, she watches his every movement of the mouth, adjusting her glasses and leaning a little forward to better see if there’s any telltale tics of something greater amiss in the wound. As far as she can tell, it’s better than it was, and that should be something. (Right? Right?? Still, she can’t help but frown deeply, disappointed in her lack of ability.)

“An anti-magick field…?” She muses to herself, brows pinching inward, “The size of a city….??” It doesn’t make sense to her, but there are greater issues afoot, and she shakes it visibly from her head. “Maybe it would be best to take you to one, just in case… but first, I… I think I should try and deal with whatever did this to you. You said it was the… this stuff?” She gestures to the ground, covered in diamond. “The golems, right?”

Winni even pulls out her book to show that she means business. Her handy-dandy English dictionary. As though she even has the magicks to deal with these weird diamond constructs- but if they’re out hurting people, she doesn’t have a choice. She is the Warrior of Light, after all, and can’t bear to watch people get punched in the mouth by these monsters.

(How else, after all, would a grown man with the stature of a warrior get his tongue shredded to bits?)

His neck cranes to get a look at Winni, studying her as she goes through her thought processes. He, too, had wondered why his magic abilities were gone when he first got here and he wished it was as simple as an anti-magick field. It seemed if he wanted to get his powers back he would just have to play the waiting game, according to those who he had quizzed on the matter. Golems? Hawke raises a brow. There were golems? He turns his head to look around, wondering where said golems were. There absolutely were none here in this part of the city. That being said, the truth was far more embarrassing than having a diamond golem get one over on him. Maybe he should just play along, for his dignity’s sake. ❝ Ah, yes. The golem who did this. ❞ Hawke recalls, very honestly. ❝ Or golems, rather. Two of them. One of them held me back, while the other punched me in the mouth. Luckily, it missed my teeth and went right to my tongue instead. ❞ He almost felt bad for lying to this innocent woman who was just trying to help, but this was a secret he’d have to take to the grave.

[ichorbane]

relansi​:

When her hands are removed, she lowers them to her sides, not bothering, or even thinking to wipe off the blood and saliva on her fingers. Gore is the least of her concerns at all times. Such is the life of a healer. Slightly more grosser still is when she presses the back of her hand against her lips to stifle a ‘eep!’ at an instant misunderstanding.

“The spell made you feel that way…? Did it hurt you even more?!” Her ears flatten back against her head, but she isn’t panicking just yet. He seems to be speaking a little more clearly, so she can’t tell if he’s kidding, or there’s been a miscommunication, or what. “I’m so sorry. My magicks… they haven’t been working right since I got here… d-do you need to see a chirurgeon?”

❝ No. Well, yes. But pain is much better than numbness, believe me. ❞ It was a bit fucked up, but at least this way he knew the nerves in his mouth weren’t severed. Rolling his tongue in his mouth, he paid attention to what he felt; there definitely were some gashes, though it didn’t seem as if he was “missing” any of his tongue. The roof of his mouth wasn’t happy either, with the cuts he could feel right behind his gums. He was lucky he didn’t lose any teeth, considering the hardness of what he had bit into. ❝ A... chirurgeon? If that’s your tongue for surgeon, perhaps. ❞ He really hoped that it wouldn’t come to that. Hopefully he’d get checked out at one of those medical places (what were they called? hospices?) and they’d just give him medicine and send him on his merry way. Medicine was much more advanced here, after all. Deep down in his heart he knew he’d probably need stitches, but for once in his life he’d try and be an optimist. ❝ It’s nothing about you and your magicks specifically, either, if that’s what you’re thinking. Mine also hasn’t been working at full capacity since I got here. Not that healing magic was specifically my profession to begin with. ❞ As always, Anders was leagues better at that. Setting stuff on fire was much more fun than the timely task of healing wounds.

[anarchyengaiged]

@ichorbane

“No!  No, Deathtrap, over here.”  The little metal robot had wound up roving right in-between a man’s legs to nearly trip him up, and it may have only been thanks to Gaige’s quick realization that this didn’t happen.  He was loyal as always to his creator, though, and made his was back over so she could scoop him up into her arms.  “Good boy.”  Her gaze turned upward to the other with a sheepish grin.  “Sorry.  He’s been a bit on the fritz lately, and he’s normally supposed to be a LOT bigger so that kind of thing doesn’t usually happen.”

[ichorbane]

Walks in the park were supposed to be peaceful, were they not? Yet, the entire time he’d been trying to clear his mind he had been met with some almost unpleasant encounter. First it was the lady who couldn’t walk fast enough while she was talking on the phone, trapping Hawke behind her. Then it was the kids having a snowball fight, and the dog that almost pissed on his boots. What had been an annoying turn of events had turned him into a firebomb, ready to explode. The moment he felt the robot at his heels, Hawke took in a breath, ready to give someone a piece of his mind-- only to be diffused by what he was looking at. He’d seen weird things since he’d been here. There were plenty of creatures that, in stature, vaguely reminded him of the dwarven creations he had seen in the Deep Roads; somewhat menacing, top heavy, and non-organic. But it’s master definitely was not dwarven, considering her height. ❝ That, ❞ Hawke started, pointing to the robot in her arms. ❝ Is that some sort of... dog? ❞ It certainly didn’t look like one, but the way she called to it reminded him of how Mabari were treated back home. He only had so much of a frame of reference.

[ichorbane]

relansi​:

“Magic,” she echoes back with a nod, but she can’t tear her distressed gaze away from the man’s mouth. The second she’s given permission, she reaches up to grasp his chin (he’s a tall one, that’s for sure, and she nearly feels a need to stand on the balls of her feet to be able to see into his mouth), and try to open his jaw as wide as he can manage. Please work, she begs no one in particular, with such intensity that she actually words it to herself, albeit soundlessly. Her opposite hand flickers with a soothing white light, and when she raises it to his lips, it’s hard to tell if anything is happening because of the blood.

It should, given that white magicks do little more than speed the body’s natural healing response– within limits, of course– the limits of her Physick being small wounds at best. “H-how does that feel?” She asks, seemingly completely unaware of the fact that she is holding his jaw open with fingers attempting to probe his tongue for maximum healing potency.

It’s an awkward situation to have a stranger prying your mouth open with their significantly smaller hands. That stagnant silence and anticipation between them reminds him why he avoided going to healers as much as he could get away with, healing his own wounds as long as he didn’t have any massive internal bleeding. Silently, he’s glad that she didn’t waste time staring at his tongue and instead just got to work. For a moment, not much feels different. The numbness slowly gives way to tingling, gives way to itching, something deeply unpleasant that he thought he would never have to experience (who has an itchy tongue?). When she speaks to ask him how he is, his tongue definitely still aches, but the other unpleasant sensations have subsided. ❝ Aa auuah, ❞ Hawke says plainly, flinching when a finger touches his sensitive tongue. Right. Her hands were still there. Softly, he pulls them off of his face. And he takes a thoughtful pause. ❝ Well... How do I put it? Imagine biting your entire tongue five times over. ❞

[ichorbane]

relansi​:

“Ah–!” Her tail and ears stand on end at the sight of blood-red lips, and it’s obvious it isn’t makeup. “Please,” she reaches for him, only to hesitate and retract her hands to her chest, then move to make the motion again. Visible distress over whether or not to immediately touch and use her magicks, or to wait for permission, “Can I… I don’t know what first aid is, but can I heal it? Please?”

❝ Magic? ❞ Great, his tongue is starting to swell. As if it wasn’t hard enough talking with a bleeding, numb tongue. It’s like he’s trying to talk without no tongue at all. He would like to explain that he himself has healing magic, but that magic can only do so much. It could stop the bleeding, but it could not close the cuts in his mouth; those would probably need stitches. Explaining this, however, would probably be a mouth full (no pun intended), so instead Hawke opts for a simple--  ❝ Sure. ❞ What’s he got to lose? Maybe, by some miracle, she can fully heal it. Or maybe she can’t do anything and he’ll have to have it amputated. Either way, it would be a fun surprise.

[ichorbane]

❝ So. As it turns out, this stuff on the ground is not ice. ❞ Maybe his mouth is bleeding like, a little bit a lot, because maybe he was a little dehydrated and desperate when he found the knob to his home stuck. So maybe he found some shards nearby and put them in his mouth. ❝ I don’t suppose you know first aid for tongues? ❞

[ichorbane]

fourwinged​:

🌪️ Of course this had to happen just the moment he proposed to heal the other after the fight. It seems to just getting worse at this point. He is more concerned over his partner’s condition than his own right now, because his mindset is still set to ‘humans being much weaker than him’. While really, his body is lacking more in physical strength and endurance at his current condition. “… and I guess that’s what happens when you let your guard down in the middle of a fight.” Well, looks like they both will be busy with a lot of healing at this rate. He reaches behind his back to pull the knife out of the wing himself, grimacing as he does so. Maybe the goddess should instead try and stop the other from letting his anger get the better of him, but he knows there is no time to put on the rose-colored glasses now. These guys definitely try to kill them, so it is kill or be killed. With that in mind, he even slides the pulled bloody knife over for his allie to grab, while casting his healing magic afterwards on both of them. It’s two heals, for two wounds. He probably won’t have much energy left after this, maybe two or three heals more.

“I have you covered, but don’t go too much overboard now.” Maybe his healing eases their mood. But he’s not as strong in that regard as Elizabeth is, so he doesn’t keep his hopes up. Nonetheless, the soft bright light he’s emitting now, does have a sooting effect.

The throbbing of his head slowly vanished with Sariel’s healing, and he was thankful, too, because he found that once the ringing sat in concussions could be a pain to heal. Hawke’s hands loosened on his assailant’s neck as he fell unconscious, and he wiped them on his pants before reaching down to grab the knife. Normally he would’ve felt bad about that, and perhaps he would later, but right now wasn’t really the time for his conscious to speak up. He had killed greater men for less, after all. ❝ Do you really want to do this? ❞ Hawke asked the men who were now closing in on him. He could tell they didn’t like what he did to their friend; one of them, he knew, was the attacker he had previously thrown off. The mage raised a brow.  ❝ Come now, you know this won’t end well for you. ❞ The men did not heed his warning, and instead came for him, prompting Hawke to quickly stab the first one in the throat and use the leverage of the hilt to toss the man aside, blood splattering as the knife gashed deeper before it cut loose. Any other would’ve winced, but Hawke was uncomfortably accustomed to getting bloody. The other man stopped in his tracks at the sight, considering what to do, frozen in a moment that needed action. If Hawke took him down, perhaps it would make the others who were attacking them reconsider. But instead, Hawke stood there, staring the other man down menacingly until he scrambled back into the crowd. Garrett Hawke is a man of questionable actions, but he’s not a monster. Unless he’s very much out of his sorts, he’s never been one to attack someone unwilling to fight. There were some unsure faces in the crowd around them now, along with some very angry ones; perhaps some of them were unaccustomed to seeing their friends succumb to such a gruesome death. ❝ For some reason I don’t think they liked that very much, ❞ Hawke commented.

[isolaradiale]

Keep reading

[ichorbane]

fatespitter​:

 “Than I will die. And if I revive. I will die soon again. A never ending cycle of suffering. I had hope, wish, to die in battle with the soldiers who entrust. their life to. me. But I cannot do that. There is no point, in over thinking. I will take. what comes.” it was a quick resolution because in his age, there is less regrets to show in the open. Every regret, every action he wishes to undo. he will take to every grave he goes, and becomes. 

 “My body, should have perished long ago. Only my will. keeps it up.” because there is no medicine in this city to stave off the effects, and the more he moves, the more it worsens. “I am, old. But not tired , no not yet.”

❝ My, you’re a rather chipper one, aren’t you? ❞ No optimism here, he supposed. This one was starting to make his past choices of company look like rays of sunshine. And all he wanted to do was make a joke about having to pay him back. Hawke looked down at his phone in his hands, damaged and worn to a point he was starting to worry about the usability of it-- if he even knew how. ❝ I don’t mean that in a bad way, ❞ Hawke iterates, realizing what he said could come across as offensive. More often than not, his sarcasm usually did. ❝ It’s always good to have a doomsday-er in the group. Serves to keep your expectations realistic. ❞ Aand that probably didn’t help, huh. Had he made this outing awkward now? Maybe he’d just keep messing with his phone until the food arrived. Clicking the on and off for the screen seemed to be a nice distractor. 

[ichorbane]

quickbow​:

❝You takin’ the piss?❞ she asked just moments after the answer came out of the human’s mouth. Surely he was messing around, she thought, although it wouldn’t be unusual for the man to remember little of Sera since they’d know each other only briefly. Still, it stung to hear the lack of recognition so she eyed him with a bit of suspicion.

❝Or maybe you’re not.❞ Letting out one long breath, she crossed both arms over her chest in a put-upon manner and frowned. Interrogation wasn’t her style, at least not in the traditional sense, so she opted to believe the man and go with his word. After all, times were hectic when Hawke came to Skyhold, it wasn’t out of the question for him to not remember her face. ❝Things were kind of mad when we met…❞

❝Oh!❞ With a snap of her fingers, she brightened up from her funk and leaned further into Hawke’s space, craning her head to in order to still meet his eyes. ❝Varric’s got to have told you stories! Sera—from the Inquisition? Oughta be plenty of good ones about me.❞

❝ Inquisition? Varric? ❞ Hawke mimicked before he realized he was doing so. Was this.. something he should’ve known about? Sure, there had been rumors about an Inquisiton after the whole shitstorm with Kirkwall, and the failing chantry, and the high tensions and imminent civil war. But Hawke tended to err on the side of feigned ignorance when it came to rumors like that, especially when he had the gut feeling that he could easily find himself mixed up in that mess. He’d already done enough to “help” Kirkwall, and everyone could see how that turned out. When would people learn that he shouldn’t be chosen to clean up his own-- or anyone else’s-- messes? Regardless, he had not heard a peep from Varric about this elf, if that wasn’t obvious enough. ❝ As far as I know, Varric’s never been part of an inquisition, considering I believe he’s been holed up in Kirkwall all his life. Oh, accidental dwarf pun. ❞ Hawke scratches his scruff in thought, stopping last minute at a crosswalk. Better, he thinks. At least this time he didn’t walk out into traffic. Mentally, he patted himself on the back for the progress, because if he did it physically he’d be sure to get odd looks.  ❝ How long do dwarves live, again? I’m assuming not hundreds of years, otherwise I’m sure he would’ve had a lot to say about the first blight and the rampant blood mage orgies. ❞ As if the rampant blood mage orgies ever stopped being a thing. ❝ Jokes aside, I haven’t heard of you, I’m sorry to say. ❞