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

[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.