Who ate all of the eggs? [ His tone, here, is more wounded than accusatory. Directionlessly betrayed. Groggy. He's still shirtless and draped in a blanket, because he has his priorities in order, and food comes before clothes. ] Those were my eggs. I listened to someone compare me to her dead son for a whole hour to get those eggs. Someone has to pay.
[ No one has to pay. ]
LOUNGING AROUND SOMEWHERE OR CUTTING FIREWOOD IDK
Say we are going to die. [ Hypothetically, for the sake of this light and pleasant conversation. He's probably talking to a fellow Warden, but it isn't out of the question that he could be asking the same thing of anyone else. There's still Corypheus, and all those rifts, and not a Hero or Herald or Hawke in sight. ] What's your biggest regret? Or the second biggest if the real biggest will make this awkward.
THE MIDDLE OF THE BLIGHTED NIGHT
[ Alistair isn't actually holding himself together very well. He's mostly being held together by other people. So at three or four in the morning, when he can't bring himself to wake anyone, he can occasionally be found out of his tent, being a weirdo—standing at the edge of camp and staring at one of the moons, maybe rhythmically striking flint to steel to make sparks with no aim or turning his pendant between his fingers. Humming, usually. Or talking to himself under his breath to stop himself from humming. But he does that even when he isn't being driven mad, so. ]
WILDCARD
[ Exist in his proximity while he's bored and he'll come visit you whether you want him to or not. Except Nathaniel. ]
Alistair
Who ate all of the eggs? [ His tone, here, is more wounded than accusatory. Directionlessly betrayed. Groggy. He's still shirtless and draped in a blanket, because he has his priorities in order, and food comes before clothes. ] Those were my eggs. I listened to someone compare me to her dead son for a whole hour to get those eggs. Someone has to pay.
[ No one has to pay. ]
LOUNGING AROUND SOMEWHERE OR CUTTING FIREWOOD IDK
Say we are going to die. [ Hypothetically, for the sake of this light and pleasant conversation. He's probably talking to a fellow Warden, but it isn't out of the question that he could be asking the same thing of anyone else. There's still Corypheus, and all those rifts, and not a Hero or Herald or Hawke in sight. ] What's your biggest regret? Or the second biggest if the real biggest will make this awkward.
THE MIDDLE OF THE BLIGHTED NIGHT
[ Alistair isn't actually holding himself together very well. He's mostly being held together by other people. So at three or four in the morning, when he can't bring himself to wake anyone, he can occasionally be found out of his tent, being a weirdo—standing at the edge of camp and staring at one of the moons, maybe rhythmically striking flint to steel to make sparks with no aim or turning his pendant between his fingers. Humming, usually. Or talking to himself under his breath to stop himself from humming. But he does that even when he isn't being driven mad, so. ]
WILDCARD
[ Exist in his proximity while he's bored and he'll come visit you whether you want him to or not. Except Nathaniel. ]