drink up

[wickedchase]

WHO: Twisted Fate & OPEN
WHAT: Twisted Fate is getting trashed. Get trashed with him.
WHEN: During and/or post-Nevarra, I'm flexible.
WHERE: The Hanged Man, primarily.
NOTES: N/A, at the moment

♠ i. evening

[It's about as busy as it normally is for the infamous, terrible, rundown, sorry excuse of a tavern. People accept their swill, bypassing the unfortunate taste for the effect it brings, and that's about as good as it gets.

In a corner, one of the human locals of dear, sweet Kirkwall slams his fist down, snarling at Twisted Fate: "You're cheating!"

Fate, for his part, looks terribly smug and confident, his grin prominent behind the crown of his hat.]

Unless you have any proof, I kindly suggest you leave what you bargained with.

[Furious, the man throws down a purse of coins, storming off toward the bar to undoubtedly get angrily drunk as a result.

Twisted Fate helpfully calls after him:]

Maybe don't gamble if you're going to be a sore loser about it!

[Fate chuckles, snagging the coin purse. At a passing waitress, he winks at her and says:] Another tankard, if you please.


♠ ii. late evening

[Stumbling out from the tavern, Twisted Fate clears his throat and adjusts his hat. He hums a moment before clicking his tongue as he starts to make his way through Lowtown, heading in the direction of Hightown.

As he goes around a corner, a set of men are waiting for him, one of which includes the angry card player from before.]

Oh. This a welcoming party? [Fate's voice is far removed from his usual posh accent he puts on, rolling drunkenly more into his natural Dalish accent he works to obscure.] Don't think I know any of you.

["You cheated me out earlier!"]

Gonna have to be a bit more specific. [Fate sniffs and scratches his chin.] Look, you're drunk. I'm drunk. Let's worry about this before y'do anything stupid.

[That manages to only make the man more pissed off, of course.]


♠ iii. wildcard

[Do your own prompt, or message me and I'll make a specific one for you!]

Comments

[arlathvhen]

[ Creators, he's trying to get her fired. She knew it. But she's already done the whole 'fuck it' thing and already did the whole bravado thing and that means there's only one thing left to do. ]

Oh--Fine. Lead the way.

If we get caught, I'm telling them that you coerced me.

[wickedchase]

It'll be worth the thrill, I should think. Come along, then. Show me how your skills have grown, my dear.

[For him, it'll be easy enough. For her, he's rather curious to see how Beleth will manage this.

But he does lead the way, in so much as taking them toward Hightown.]

Are you a master infiltrator yet?

[arlathvhen]

You mean, a chance for you to show off.

[ She follows along, doing some quick calculations. Had she been doing much practice with infiltrating since Fate last left? Yes, she's sure she has. Though she's also spent plenty of time with her butt in a chair, occupied by important business that did little to improve her abilities. She'll just have to do her best, and pray a lot. ]

I'll manage just fine. Though if I do misstep and fall to my death, I hope you'll have the courtesy to make up a lie about how I was saving orphans, or something noble.

[wickedchase]

Alienage elven orphans. While you were sewing them mittens.

[Twisted Fate stretches out his arms as they proceed to approach Hightown, then turns his head to smile at Beleth.]

In any case, I'll meet you there?

[And he cheats, because of course he does: Twisted Fate uses his shapeshifting magic to transform into an owl before fluttering away.]

[arlathvhen]

You don't sew mittens, you knit--TOBREVAS.

[ He fully deserves her pulling out the real name, because--really? She sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose, and contemplates chugging one of the bottles right then and there.

But she resists, and makes her way to the Viscount's Keep in her own, two-legged time.

Jerk. ]

[wickedchase]

[It's late enough that though the viscount isn't in his office, there are certainly several guards everywhere. Still, he's counting on Beleth showing up eventually; she'll make it happen.

He perches in a window of the office, investigating with a tilt of his head before he decides it's safe enough for him to transform back into his elven self, sitting in the window.]

Oh, that chair looks expensive.

[arlathvhen]

[ It takes a bit, but before too long, Beleth's hands pop over the windowsill, promptly followed by the rest of her. Once her head is over enough to do so, she glares at Fate. ]

The Viscount knows me, you know. We've spoken. If he comes in here, he'll know exactly who I am, and how to find me.

[ And yet, here she is, the cloth bag strapped to her back as she slides into the room proper. The bag is slung off, and from it Beleth fishes out two bottles of wine, along with two glasses. Both are miraculously in good shape, despite whatever adventures Beleth must have had to get here. ]

I'd have been here sooner, but the guard has been even warier of Dalish than usual, ever since Sina's clan waltzed on into Hightown. Did you know that happened? It took years off my life.