(closed) 02. funny friends that make you laugh

[wolfslayer]

WHO: Willem Bassey & Arohaerd
WHAT: Aro's mission to improve relations with the Chantry through the drunkest and dumbest boy shenanigans of all.
WHEN: Early September
WHERE: SOMEWHERE IN KIRKWALL I THINK
NOTES: Implication/discussion of drinking, partying, possibly some sexual events, but nothing on-screen

Dawn is creeping over Val Royeaux, sliding balmy fingers of light through curtains and fences and dodgy-smelling gutters.

Willem is creeping too. Afro faintly lopsided, clothes comfortably rumpled, he's climbing hand over gauntleted hand up a wall, lithe as a cat, pausing now and then to glance over his shoulders— a reasonable facsimile of the Walk of Shame, but in vertical. This place isn't the Hanged Man, but this tavern has its own notoriety, and that's as likely to mean law enforcement is nearby as to mean that nobody cares. If it were illegal to get rather out of hand, they wouldn't have picked this place for the mission. (The other place was its own kind of exciting: it had bears. Well, one bear.) (The bear had been mostly an accident.)

Rap rap rap.

"Aro?" he whispers, his mouth nearly pressed into the gap between shutter and frame. He trusts that the half-elf, though as pretty and delicately built as a winter tree frost lattice, is sharp enough and then some to catch the whisper. "Oi oi, Aro

Comments

[sorcerised]

Aro is at the door in a blink, pulling it open and slipping outside while making quick shushing gestures.

"He's asleep," he says quickly, flicking his eyes back towards the door. He moves a little away from it and beckons to Willem, pointing towards the bar. For his own part, Aro looks a little haggard - his undereyes darker than usual, his hair tussled. It's been a long night of drinking, and while he'd made sure to drink much much less than his erstwhile companion, he'd still had to take enough to pass himself.

He rubs his eyes.

"Or rather they are. Turns out he's very friendly. I saw more of those women than I've seen of any woman, ever.."

Then he pauses, taking Willem in and frowning narrowly at him.

"What happened with you?"

[wolfslayer]

Willem climbs in quietly. Or at least, he starts out climbing in quietly but then it turns into almost tripping over something and hopping a moment— but it's not too bad, the ball of his foot rolling to soften the impact. He folds himself down instinctively once all four of his limbs are actually in the room, darting a look left and right. He finds the figure of the sleeping boy easily enough.

"Bear fighting," he says, "pretty girls, pretty boys, some sort of a drinking game involving three dice, somebody's glass eye, and a wooden knife. At one point we stole a goose, but rest your righteous heart— poor thing's been returned, and we're the ones worse for wear." He smiles, his teeth white contrast against his complexion.

Then he's leaning nearer. The sweet scent of brandy is clinging to his curls. He moves to sling an arm around Aro's shoulder for a conspiratorial whisper, if Aro will let him. "You know, I'm sure he'dve forgotten about those women right away, if you'dve shown him your dragon. You know the one."

[sorcerised]

Aro turns to look at him, frowning.

"It's not like I show her to everyone. You were a special case. I -"

He stops, as the dual meaning of all of that occurs to him, and he flushes a deep scarlet. Suddenly at sea, he stumbles around for words.

"Er, I. Well, I, erm. Anyway, he's...he's well out of it by now. I've never seen anyone put away so much drink."

It had almost been instructive. But then there's Willem, smiling at him, and embarrassing him, and he's honestly wishing he'd had a few more of those drinks himself. He'd be able to navigate this better.

It's almost as an afterthought that he adds:

"Hang on, did you say a bear? I said distract him, not use him as bait!"