wittyskepticism: ({ 009)
astrid hawke ([personal profile] wittyskepticism) wrote in [community profile] sixthiterationlogs2017-04-26 09:36 am

the champion's rogue heart

WHO: Astrid Hawke
WHERE: Fountain, Inn
WHEN: April 26th and 27th
OPEN TO: ALL
WARNINGS: TBD
STATUS: OPEN


April 26th - Fountain, Midday
Hawke is fairly certain that the Nightmare Demon she was fighting didn't have the ability to make her drown. Then again, she was in the Fade last she checked and the Fade is malleable enough to manage that. Still, the demon knows she hates spiders most of all. Why it would try to drown her is beyond her comprehension at the moment.

Not that she minds not staring at giant arachnids at the moment, but it is confusing.

Those thoughts flit across her mind as she struggles to push herself to the surface of the water. She can see it glinting above her like Isabela's ship, like a priceless personal goal that's just out of reach. Just a little further. She reaches, her hand breaks through, and then she's sucking in deep lungfuls of air as she pushes herself up and out, nearly falling over the edge and onto the ground below. For a few seconds, she just lies there, catching her breath and looking around for any sign of the Nightmare Demon.

Nothing. Groaning to herself about the way her life has gone, she finally rolls over and pushes herself to her feet. "That's two apologies the Chantry owes me," she complains with her usual dry humor. "This doesn't look like the Maker's bosom, either."

April 27th - Inn
Hawke takes up a room at the Inn at the first opportunity and her first day is spent just trying to cope. Of course, Hawke's version of coping is hardly the same as everyone else's, so mostly she stays away and tries to figure out what she can. She gets the main idea of the place and that's enough. No one has heard of Thedas. It's enough to make a girl crazy.

So the next day, she hangs out in the Inn proper and not in her room. It almost reminds her of the Hanged Man and that realization brings with it a squeeze of pain. She misses her companions, even if it was her choice to leave Kirkwall. She wonders vaguely how Bethany is doing, if Isabela has managed to find herself a new ship, if Fenris ever cleaned his estate, what Merrill is doing now, and if Aveline and Donnic have decided to try for children. They would make good parents, she thinks. Her mind wanders to Varric and she finds herself smiling into her cup of tea as she sits by the fire. She misses him most of all and she knows he probably misses her, too. He and Aveline were her best friends and she really misses their counsel. And Varric's very broad sense of humor and storytelling.

She keeps her mind pointedly away from Anders. That is a subject she would rather avoid.

Once she has drained her cup, with or without company, she sets about asking for work, trying to see if anyone needs any kind of help. Anyone nearby may find her walking up to start a conversation with a quick, "Mind if I ask you something?" If they say no, she'll start asking and hopefully not badgering, but if they say no, she'll politely leave them alone. Or as politely as possible.
tooktheblack: (stoic)

[personal profile] tooktheblack 2017-04-26 04:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Jon had only just come to the Inn to drop off what he'd managed to kill hunting this morning but at the question, he took pause and turned to the woman sitting there. She appeared new, at least to his eyes, and he nodded once to indicate she could go on asking her question.

"Aye, you can ask me anything you'd like. I can't guarantee a good answer, though. This place has a lot of things I can't explain."

It was a continual source of frustration for him, yes, but that was something he didn't want to express to someone he didn't know just yet.
tooktheblack: (Default)

[personal profile] tooktheblack 2017-04-26 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"I usually hunt in the mornings," Jon explained. "There are only a few bows, we have to share them, but if you can wield one, it would help. Hunting and fishing are the only ways to get food around here, unless you know how to farm."

Jon was no farmer, unfortunately, so he was one of the hunters. "I am Jon Snow. I'm afraid I don't know of Thedas, though. I hail from Westeros."
tooktheblack: (stoic)

[personal profile] tooktheblack 2017-04-26 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
"I normally take to the woods alone just before dawn but if you'd like to accompany me, I would be happy to show you where the good game is," Jon said. He gave her a brief smile, just a flash of teeth in an otherwise dour face.

"Jon Snow. Well met, Hawke. How did you come by such a name? Are you that keen an eye? I might be replaced on the bow if that's the case."
tooktheblack: (Default)

[personal profile] tooktheblack 2017-04-29 09:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Jon laughed a bit and shook his head. He didn't know what Wicked Grace was but he could tell a joke when he heard one and it was slightly at his expense, yes, but it wasn't unkind.

"Well, I meant where they tend to populate, is all, which I imagine you could extract from that. If you're as good a sight as your family name indicates, we'll be glad to have you here. We can always use more good shots."
tooktheblack: (Default)

[personal profile] tooktheblack 2017-04-30 12:59 am (UTC)(link)
"We eat well enough but if more people come, it will be scarce," Jon said, nodding quickly. "So I would be happy to show you where I typically hunt in the morning. I could use the help. We all could."

He smiled just a bit, trying to be welcoming. "Tell me more about this Thedas, if you would?"

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chosenbytheocean: (PB - thinking hard)

INN

[personal profile] chosenbytheocean 2017-04-27 12:45 am (UTC)(link)
Moana was focused on her task, running a thick rock over what looked like fabric. She hadn’t noticed that a new person was drinking tea or that there was much else going on around her. It wasn’t until her question that she snapped her attention up.

A nervous smile tugged at her lips. "Oh, yeah." She hadn’t realized she’d lost focus on the things around her.

She pushed her work to the side, letting it sit untouched. "What is it? Are you knew?" She really should have been paying more attention. Moana was a little excited about the fabric that she was making, hoping to remake her dress before the warmer weather.
chosenbytheocean: (Suddenly surprised)

[personal profile] chosenbytheocean 2017-04-27 07:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"Oh," She looked back at the fabric like substance and rock, pulling it back so that the woman could see it better. "This is just a side project I'm doing." She didn't explain it more because it was just something to ease her mind and heart.

It reminded her of traditions from home.

Moana looked up at her and considered her original inquiry. "People do all sorts of things around here. Most try and help out so we have food and firewood." There have been some experimental escapes but none have gone particularly well.
chosenbytheocean: (PB - so its like this)

[personal profile] chosenbytheocean 2017-04-27 08:14 pm (UTC)(link)
A light smile touched Moana's lips while understanding reflected in the deep brown hue of her irises. "I understand. I started by making fishing nets. Through the winter there wasn't much in the woods but there were fish. I think someone is going to organizing planting soon and there are materials that you can borrow in the back of the in." She was pretty sure there as a bow among other things there to be borrowed. Moana assumed it was fine as long as people didn't walk off with them.

"I understand wanting something to do. That's why I spend the evenings making things." Mostly when it was too dark to go out and someone else was already cooking.

"What do you like to do? We can think of something." It wasn't that she was comfortable in the world, far from it, but Moana already had a failed escape attempt as well as the shock of suddenly arriving back here. She was trying to think, instead of acting foolishly to escape.
chosenbytheocean: (Umm...)

[personal profile] chosenbytheocean 2017-04-28 05:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Moana lifted her shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know. I don't think so. Maybe they will when the weather warms." She wondered if this girl really had that much trouble with traps. Moana thought of fish traps and wondered how Hawke would get stuck in one of those.

"Killing?" She didn't mean to sound worried but Moana grew up on a peaceful island. She hadn't been able to conceptualize someone killing a person on purpose.

"Um... there are a lot of people who need help." Moana really had no idea what to make of this woman. She felt bad for her but also a little wary of her.
chosenbytheocean: (Whats happening?)

[personal profile] chosenbytheocean 2017-04-28 05:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"I know what demons and monsters are." She'd been to the realm of monsters and it had been horribly unpleasant. She'd made it out alive but that was also partially due to luck.

This wasn't something she wanted to talk about. It felt like they were speaking two different languages. This woman wasn't very clear in what she said.

"You should ask Kate or Mark. Kate oversees the inn." At least as far as Moana knew. "Mark is organizing the planting and farming. They'll know what the inn needs. There are rooms upstairs. If it's empty then it's free I think." Even if she was unsure of this woman's character Moana was helpful and as pleasant as she could be. This was all too confusing.
Edited 2017-04-28 18:13 (UTC)

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pretendtoneedme: (resigned)

April 27

[personal profile] pretendtoneedme 2017-05-09 05:29 am (UTC)(link)
Normally Clint doesn't spend all that much time at the inn since he, Wanda, and Sam are all pretty good about fending for themselves, but when he's working on the mill it's easier to get food from the communal lunches at the main building than trying to scrape something up at the house. And thanks to the Obscurus attack a few days before, he has enough angry energy to put a good few days' hard labor into it, because who knew what the hell was going on now and the people who did know something about that didn't exactly want to share that knowledge.

So he's at one of the tables eating when she walks up and starts speaking. He takes a moment to swallow and then nods with a little shrug. "Sure, if you want. Just get here?" He doesn't know everyone in the village yet, but he's been around long enough to have a visual familiarity with pretty much everyone, and he's never seen her before.
pretendtoneedme: (standing tall in danger)

[personal profile] pretendtoneedme 2017-05-14 03:18 am (UTC)(link)
Mostly it's easy to tell a person is new; the village isn't really big enough for faces to slip under the radar, even if you don't talk to a person. He hasn't seen her around anywhere, therefore she must be new. No more than a few days, at least.

Still, her declaration takes Clint by surprise a little. Not a lot, and it doesn't show except for a blink and a quick 'huh' sort of expression on his face, but then he shrugs. "Survive, mostly." It's true; there's just not a lot of other things they can do before seeing to food, shelter, and safety for everyone here. "If you're any good with farming, Mark can definitely use your help. Or if you can fix stuff, there's a lot of buildings around here that need some work, and other projects we've been wanting to get started but haven't been able to 'cause we don't have the people who know how to do it or the materials. Miss Kate's in charge of most of the cooking here in the inn and she can always use another pair of hands, and if you don't mind hunting the game's starting to come back after the winter and we could use some more meat."
pretendtoneedme: (directed aiming)

[personal profile] pretendtoneedme 2017-05-16 12:56 am (UTC)(link)
At least this girl's not panicking about being somewhere without electricity. He's adjusted, but it'd been a shock for him at first, and he could easily guess that other people had had a much ruder awakening when they realized what exactly this village was like. But it's the second thing she says that interests him, because - well, duh.

"There's a few, but they're not all that great. You shoot?" Clint's analysis of the weapons is partially biased, but also not all that off. Some of them are old and worn, but a couple are sturdy enough. None of them have the draw weight he's used to, though, and for that reason alone he'll never consider them 'good enough.' They always feel like a child's bow to him, the arrows almost like feathers.