(no subject)

[onetrackminds]

Who: The crew of the Oargy
Where: On the ship! They're in the North East currently, near Himmelen, but that may change.
When: All of March
What: Everything.
Warnings: None yet! I'll edit if it becomes necessary, which is likely.
Style: You choose.
Status: closed

[ooc: Everyone behave, now. Or, you know, not.]

Comments

on the deck, at night

[onetrackminds]

[The crew quarters of the Oargy are cramped, sometimes a bit smelly, and always a little noisy, and there are plenty of reasons why someone might be woken up in the middle of the night. This time, though, it's the old favourite: a bad dream.

Truthfully, though, Anders doesn't even remember it now that he's awake. He might have just rolled over and gone back to sleep, if not for the sound of rain pattering against the deck of the ship. He glances around to make sure he hasn't woken anyone else yet, and then carefully lowers himself to the floor, trying to move as quietly as possible. It helps that he isn't wearing boots, but only once he's out of the room does he relax again.

He heads up on the deck; it's cold, but he doesn't particularly care. It doesn't worry him that his sleepwear is getting wet, either. Rain always makes him smile, and he simply heads for the railing, to lean against it and stare out towards the empty ocean. It's nice; it's quiet. It's the kind of weather you can never experience while locked inside an old tower, and that might be years ago, but he still has no intention of missing this now.]

[shipper_on_deck]

[looks like it's her watch, at this time of the night]

You know, I wouldn't mind if you'd like to take over for me.

[she's by the helm, just keeping an eye on things.]

[onetrackminds]

[he turns towards her, briefly shielding his face with an arm, for all the good it does.]

You look half-drowned. Some warmer clothes might help, you know.

[says the one in his sleepwear.]

[shipper_on_deck]

At least I know how to swim. [a quip, but then she grumbles.] Some better weather might be nice.

[onetrackminds]

I don't know much about sailing, but I think if you have to swim on deck, it's time to abandon ship. And I like rain.

[selfmadewoman]

[The female Hawke is still getting used to everything. She hasn't slept in a ship for years and, then, she never saw the ocean, really. So, she's still awake at this hour, looking out at the sea.

When she sees someone else come up on deck, she's quiet for a moment. It's Anders. Which leads to her just watching for a moment.

Finally, she crosses the deck, stopping several steps away to warn for her presence. Just because she doesn't like being snuck up on, so she's careful not to do it to her companions.]

Anders.

Beautiful night, isn't it?

[onetrackminds]

[he turns towards her, a little surprised. He hadn't expected anyone else to be awake at this time, and for a second he worries he woke her. But by the drenched state of her clothes, she's been here a while.

He offers a friendly smile... which is cut off half a second later by a yawn.]

Hawke. [...it's still weird, calling her that, but.] So I'm not the only one who likes the rain? Or couldn't you sleep?

[selfmadewoman]

The rain's different here than in Kirkwall. Actually feels like it's refreshing.

[She can't help but smile and lean against the railing near him. It's strange that he doesn't know her... but he's still Anders. It's more than she'd expected when she'd woken up here.]

Kirkwall? It's just... It just accents the grime.

...And I can't sleep. Never really been on a ship before.

[onetrackminds]

At least rain in Kirkwall meant some of the stench might get flushed out of the sewers.

[It's a bit different, living in darktown to living anywhere else in the city. He didn't always get to see the rain even there... although Hawke dragged him out often enough, when he needed a healer.

In some ways though, being here is definitely an improvement.]

I had trouble at first, too. You'll get used to it. I could make you some tea that might calm you?

[one thing he does miss, though, is access to familiar herbs, which might mean he could offer something more useful.]

[hawkethat]

[Hawke had got stuck with night watch duty, so he had been kind of sulkily hunched under a hood beneath the mast, trying to keep the cold rain off the back of his neck. When he observes Anders wander up onto the deck in nothing but his night shirt, he doesn't immediately call out to him, curious for the moment to simply watch.

Which may or may not have something to do with how quickly the rain is soaking through the thin fabric of Anders' shirt and causing it to cling to the body underneath.

After a few minutes of quiet voyeurism, however, Hawke shuffles out of his not-very-sheltery shelter and joins Anders by the rail.]

Lovely weather tonight, isn't it?

[Said Hawke sarcastically.]

[onetrackminds]

[Anders has already crossed his arms across his chest, wondering if maybe he should have grabbed a jacket before heading out. It's cold, but at least he can head back inside if it gets too much.

He jumps a little as Hawke speaks, the sound of him approaching having been covered by the falling rain. He smiles, though.]

I like the rain.

[a small shrug.]

You look freezing, though.

[hawkethat]

Just a bit cold, yes.

[Just a little. Thank the Maker for fire spells, because otherwise he's sure his fingers and toes would be numb from the cold.]

Do you have some secret to staying warm in a soaking wet nightshirt, or are you just better at ignoring it than I am?

[Speaking of soaking wet nightshirts, Hawke's not leering at all, nope. Not even a little bit.

...Well.

Maybe a little bit.]

3/13, day

[selfmadewoman]

[Oh, look.

New addition to Team Squishy Mage.

She appears via the Nav, and it takes a few moments for her to actually see where she is. Because that? Is not magic she's familiar with.

Still, there she is: Marian Hawke. Shaggy black hair, sharp blue eyes, and mage robes. Her staff is on her back, and she has a large pack with her, bought with some of the money she found herself here with and stuffed full of the supplies that were mentioned to her and everything else she could find in the shop that seemed suitable.

...This is going to be strange. Very, very strange if her conversations over the journal were any indication.

Still. She's a Hawke. She's faced the Deep Roads, Tevinter slavers, the Arishok, politics, a serial killer. What's a ship, on the ocean, bound to collect pieces of a legendary jewel?

She can handle this.

She's a Hawke.]

[shipper_on_deck]

[...sigh. Another mage. Oh well.]

You're welcome to call me Captain, you know. [priorities. Isabela's got 'em.

She's leaning up against the rail, smirk already in place.]

[selfmadewoman]

[Hawke can't help but grin.]

Captain Isabela it is.

[Because if anyone's qualified to run this ship, it's Isabela. She actually knows sailing, and Hawke's not arguing with that in the slightest.]

[shipper_on_deck]

[that gets a full on grin in response]

C'mon, you can drop off your things and [she's starting to sound even more amused] meet the others.

[oh yeah, she's been following those other convos in the book.]

[hawkethat]

[It's not every day you meet. Yourself? A different version of yourself? a prettier version of yourself?

Well, not that that last thing was even possible (there was no one prettier than Garrett Hawke, okay okay), but still.

He'd been anticipating her arrival with a strange mixture of curiosity and dread since their fateful journal conversation, and finally, there she is.

Even at a glance it's obvious they're related somehow. She looks so much like both Bethany and Mother, it would be ridiculous to try to deny it.

He recognizes the robes she's wearing as robes he'd taken one look at and buried deep, deep in the cellars under the estate. And then later sold. He's still wearing the smuggler's robes and strapping from his days working with Athenril; the enchantments might not be as impressive as those on the robes he'd gotten rid of, but overall they were much more subtle. Even with a staff slung across his back.

He's not exactly waiting to pounce on her the second she arrives via the Nav, except he mostly is. Metaphorical pouncing, anyway. He's a sassy asshole, not a savage.]

It's a beautiful day for a pirate adventure. Welcome aboard.

[selfmadewoman]

[There might be some ego in the wearing of the robes. The flaunting of her status as the Champion of Kirkwall. She was a known apostate by that time -- the fight against the Arishok had required a lot of magic and a lot of power.

And she'd been hailed as Champion.

So, somehow, she'd become a tolerated apostate, and she embraced it.

The sight of him? She recognizes those clothes. Not exactly, but they're close enough to what she wore with Athenril. What Carver wore. Because, Maker, he does look like Carver. Which, for just a moment, stuns her. This is what Carver could have been, what he might have looked like.

But she takes a deep breath to smile. To try and greet him like there's nothing wrong.]

Thank you.

This is... unexpected. I don't have another word for it.

[hawkethat]

I think that's a fairly accurate assessment, honestly.

[It was a lot easier to act blase around someone who didn't look so much like his deceased sister. And wearing robes. Not Circle robes, at least, thank the Maker, but still. Everything about this was unnerving.]

Although I have to admit, those robes are much more flattering on you than they were on me.

[bloodandbattle]

[He waited until the latest Hawke had some time to get comfortable before letting Cuddles do as he whined about wanting: rush over and give Marian a thorough sniffing and inspection. Cuddles being one of the two Mabari on board. The one that had Kaddis on him and smelled just a little bit worse than the other one.

As Cuddles did his best to sniff in all the important - and therefore uncomfortable - places on Hawke's body, Sydni wandered idly toward her with his arms crossed and purposely amused expression. He wasn't really amused at this - having two people who were apparently the same person (or close enough to it) was a very strong and hard to ignore reminder of his own parallel that existed in this strange world. But the appearance of humor would help him feign his way through not showing that discomfort.]

So what am I supposed to call you if both you and Hawke are called Hawke?

[selfmadewoman]

[For a moment, Hawke shifted when the mabari approached, but... it seemed only curious, not dangerous. Not trained like the "Doglords" in the slums had trained theirs, so she knelt to offer her hands to it, open.

These creatures were far too smart, from what she'd seen, for her to treat it with anything less than respect. Getting to see one up close that wasn't trying to rip her throat out was wonderful.

At the sound of the other's voice, she looked up. An elf. And a mage. Not Dalish, by the clothes.]

Hawke?

I mean, if we're both somewhere, there's always "Garrett" and "Marian," I guess.

[But, well. It's been a long time since someone called her by her first name who wasn't family.]

[bloodandbattle]

[When Sydni got to her, he began to circle her slowly.

Cuddles, on the other hand, decided Hawke's kneeling and open hands were an open invitation to give her the biggest, wettest, doggy kiss. And then to butt his boney head up against her chest to indicate that petting should commence. Preferably now.]

Well, there is that. But by your answer, you would prefer 'Hawke'. And I don't really think I need two people who respond to 'Hawke' to come running or answer a a question should I have need of only one. So, in lieu of calling you Hawke, what would you prefer to be called?

Because if you don't give me a name, I'm likely to start calling the two of you Beauty and Beast. You can fight over who gets which moniker.

3/10 - The Not-So-Squishy Mage of Team Squishy Mage

[bloodandbattle]

[The magic that had imbued him with the knowledge of one of the last arcane warriors made practicing the art of the sword a fairly moot point. Everything he knew, he mostly knew through 'instinct'. Not that he hadn't trained those instinctual skills during the blight, but he didn't have the years and years of training that soldiers did and it made it difficult for him to deviate from what he 'knew' and improvise in a fight. Something that had almost gotten him killed - or at least defeated - in his duel against Loghain. He barely won that battle and he knew it. The last few months following the death of the Archdemon had been busy with politicking and paperwork.

Sydni had not had much of a chance to get back to the difficult task of training himself to fight in a more proper manner. Until now. The seas were calm enough this day as they sailed for him to pull out his sword and dagger and start slowly going through some forms. Things he had learned from that long captive spirit and his body could do when he didn't think about it. Things he wanted to be able to understand better and actually know.

So it was that he was on deck, practically stumbling through what was probably the simplest of sword parries and follow-through counters. Making a fool of himself. A mage trying to be a warrior. Sten would have disapproved.]

[shipper_on_deck]

You know, the greatest masters I've known always did it naked.

[masters of what, Izzy?]

[bloodandbattle]

They would have to be masters to not need some armor in a battle.

[He said it with a casual air as he slowly attempted yet another relatively simple exchange of the double blade form he was using. During which he promptly tripped over his own feet as he tried to slide one behind the other.]

Which I am clearly not.