[closed]

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict, Colin, & Edgard
WHAT: a Vint, a Fereldan, and an Orlesian walk into a bar
WHEN: allegedly the night after the dream but Truly Whenever
WHERE: at least starting with Lowtown
NOTES: I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, singin waaaaayoh

Benedict is dressed in his finest (which isn't that fine, these days). Edgard has had his hair forcibly combed. Colin... is here.
It's time to get Fucked Up.

Or, more likely, it's time to have a few drinks and talk about their shared dream, but there are no particular rules for boys' night out. Benedict, who rarely gets to come to the mainland, leads the way off the ferry with a spring in his step and a smirk on his face.

"Shall we slum it?" he asks cheerfully, "or climb all those stairs?"

Comments

[muckspout]

Edgard laughs into his mug, puts the drink down and holds both his hands up in surrender.

"Alright, alright! What is your comfort zone then if you are constantly leaving it?"

[keenly]

Colin snorts into his cup hard enough that his wine splashes a bit.

[altusimperius]

Taking a break from looking disgusted with Edgard, Benedict looks disgusted, and dramatically wounded, by Colin instead.

"Oh, I see," he mutters haughtily, swirling his wine around, pinky up.

"That's fine, laugh all you want."

[muckspout]

"But you didn't answer my que-"

Edgard starts to protest when a particularly loud and drunk man collides into Benedict. Edgard sees as if in slow motion the wine glass already being precariously held by Benedict, tip dumping the wine all over him, and crash on the table.

[keenly]

A soft gasp, eyebrows lifting, though from the look of him one might not realize how very much Colin is trying not to think about the smell of red wine splashed everywhere. He just looks surprised and put out. And he is both. He just also really didn't want to wind up splashed with red wine.

"Excuse you!" he says loudly so the man can hear him.

[altusimperius]

Benedict's gasp is rather more horrified, the sound of someone who's just been stabbed right in the heart-- which, of course, he has not been, but the way he's all stained with red, that might be hard to tell initially.

"No," he yelps, his voice the quality of a kicked dog's, as he looks down at his lovely new-ish tunic, now quite possibly ruined.

[muckspout]

Edgard quickly grabs a cloth left on a table for cleaning and leans forward to hand it to Benedict. As he does so, he sees the hard look in Colin's eyes at the jostler in question.

"Everything alright here?" He asks tentatively.

[keenly]

The stench of wine, the whiff of vomit, the crowded room, and Colin is suddenly in a dangerous spot. If he doesn't actively work at feeling what he currently feels, he's going to go numb, and what comes after the numbness is never good. One fist clenches at his side. His other hand darts out to grab the shoulder of the man walking away to make him turn back.

Of course, this is a seedy Lowtown pub, and that means that when the man turns around, it's to swing a punch.

Colin, thanks to a significant amount of time spent in the Forces division, sees it coming in time to drop low, letting the fist whistle through the air over his head. When he stands, it's to send a quick jab toward the man's face to break his nose. He hits a cheekbone instead. Doesn't matter.

[altusimperius]

Benedict is, at first, too absorbed in the tragedy of his wine-stained tunic to pay much mind to anything else. But he recognizes the motions of violence out of the corner of his eye, and looks up just in time to catch Colin-- COLIN-- punching a guy.

He gasps, deeply impressed, but only has a moment to process it before the aggressor, now spurred by the engagement, lunges at Colin to grab for his shirt and drag him off the stool.
One of his friends, the sort of burly and ale-stinking man who always linger around these places looking for a scrap, takes it as a cue to start in on Edgard with a punch to his gut.

"Shit," Benedict whispers, in a tiny voice.

[muckspout]

Edgard doubles over for a second from the punch to the stomach. It surprises him. But, he recovers quickly. Breathing heavy, he launches himself in between Colin and the jostler, making himself wide. He angles his back so he's standing over Benedict, the next likely target, protecting him. He shoves both the jostler and Colin away from each other. He uses a deep commanding voice that echoes against the walls.

"Easy!" He yells. This isn't the first fight he's broken up. He knows he's about to get hit again.

[keenly]

The jostler yanks Colin off the stool and throws him against the wall. Colin is stunned long enough for the man to land a hit that splits his lip. By the time he rallies to retaliate, Edgard is standing in the way. And he wants to keep fighting.

"It's not his fault he's a prick," he grumbles to Edgard.

"Doglord bitch," growls the jostler, leading Colin to try to shove past Edgard and continue the fight.

[altusimperius]

This is all getting quite out of hand. Benedict has raised his hands up toward his face, knowing he's useless in a fistfight, but that doesn't prevent the second man from slugging Edgard right in the jaw and making for the skinny Vint.

At this point, it's all impulse. A sudden Mind Blast rocks the brawl, sending each participant sprawling to the floor, and Benedict hops quickly to his feet with a higher-pitched-than-usual "LET'S GO."

Grabbing both Edgard and Colin by an arm, he tries to heave them to their feet before the others can find theirs.

[muckspout]

Edgard is still reeling from the punch to the jaw. It knocked the wind out of him. Involuntarily, he shoves Benedict away before realizing it's Benedict.

"Sorry." He glances around at everyone on the floor. "Did you-?" He doesn't finish the question and curses in Orlesian.

"You're right. We should go. Leave it, Colin." The last phrase is said in a sharp warning tone. Edgard is all too aware that Colin's out for blood.

[keenly]

Like a candle being snuffed out, Colin's fight instinct switches to flight the second the spirit magic clatters him against the wall again. His position meant he's already on his feet and ready to follow the other two out, hands shaking even though he wouldn't say he feels afraid so much as momentarily sensible. It'll probably switch to panic once they're in a safe place. He's quick enough that he's the first out the door and into the cool evening.

Once on the street, tunnel vision kicks in, and he begins to play with the beads on the bracelet Benedict made for him. His hand alternates between that and rubbing the weave, using the texture to ground himself. The silence that has imposed itself on him doesn't break even to tell the other two to follow him. He just points himself in the direction of his Hightown apartment and walks. Or storms, perhaps.

[altusimperius]

Benedict hadn't had any plan of where to go, so Colin's decisiveness is a relief. He quickly pivots to follow him, glancing at Edgard to make sure he's doing the same, and jogs after his friend with a growing smile.

"Colin!" he gasps, "I didn't know you had it in you!"

[muckspout]

"I did." Edgard grumbles under his breath, smiling a little nervously at Colin. He turns to Benedict.

"But you! What was that? You took everyone out." He whispers a little reverent, a little worried, and laughing a little. The idea of Benedict winning a bar fight is ludicrous.

[keenly]

Colin's smile is nothing but teeth at Edgard's first comment. He's starting to dissociate a bit, though he might be able to pull back before coming through the other side into a panic attack. Focusing on calming down is taking too much of his focus for him to comment at the moment.

[altusimperius]

"I just..." Benedict slows his step, takes a moment to fully acknowledge what he just did. It... wasn't good. But, hopefully, it won't reflect poorly on them. Or Riftwatch.

Just a bunch of drunks, right?

"...well, they would've had us," he reasons as he jogs forward to catch up with Colin, only now thinking harder about the ramifications of flagrant magic use in a barfight.

[muckspout]

Benedict has misunderstood.

"No," He whispers reverently. "That was incredible. I mean, you definitely probably shouldn't have done it, but," Edgard moves his hands makes a noise with his mouth and mimes everyone falling to the floor.

"But wait," Edgard says suddenly comprehending the rest of what Benedict's saying. "What do you mean they had us? We were doing alright. Right, Colin?"

He turns to Colin, noticing his odd expression. "Colin?"

[keenly]

It takes a few seconds after the second iteration of his name for Colin to realize anything's happening. He gives Edgard a blank look and tries to determine whether he's being asked to respond to something, or just being called to attention for some reason.

"Uhhh..." 50/50 chance he says the right thing if he was asked a question, so he goes with the thing that would be correct if Edgard's just trying to get his attention. "...Yes?"

His eyes go to Benedict, taking in how he looks worried, and he gives him a wondering look.

[altusimperius]

Colin's response yields a similar pause in Benedict, who meets his eyes, furrows his brow, and then looks to Edgard, as if he can't quite comprehend which one of them is right. Were they not in danger of getting their heads caved in?

"...well, we managed," he says awkwardly, forging on.

[muckspout]

"We did!" Edgard gives a little whoop entirely changing his tune from before.

He turns back to Colin again, squinting.

"You alright? You got hit pretty hard." Erik recently said something about looking at his pupils, so he tries to look at them although he has no idea what he's looking for.

[keenly]

A frown. "What are you talking about, we managed? You were basically fighting by yourself. If Ben hadn't..."

He waves a hand as if that's going to complete the sentence for him.

"Did I?" he asks, sort of bewildered. "Don't answer that, let's get to my place first."

Being present in the conversation is reawakening the anxiety he's been trying to keep at bay. If he's going to hyperventilate, he'd rather do it in private.

"We've got to get some salt on that shirt."

[altusimperius]

"Will that get the stain out?" Bene asks, switching gears as he looks morosely down at his shirt.

"That barbarian."

[muckspout]

Edgard shakes his head. "I'm pretty sure you were doing the fighting, Colin. I just--got punched."

Edgard glances at the shirt.

"The color might add something to it. A stain of victory."

[keenly]

"Depends on how quick we get there," Colin says, looking up ahead at the steps to Hightown. "Worst comes to worst, I'll buy you a new shirt. You earned it."

[altusimperius]

"No, Colin, you've done enough." His demeanor instantly changes, a little smile cropping up on his face as his eyebrows waggle.

"You defended me." It was kinda hot.

[muckspout]

Edgard very slowly looks at Benedict and then at Colin. He blinks.

"Should I go?" He asks crooking his thumb over his shoulder.

[keenly]

"Wha...? Why would you?" Colin squints at Edgard before glancing at Bene, who is...oh. He knows that look. He's suddenly fully present in the conversation and aims an emphatic finger at Benedict.

"That was not attractive of me," he says sternly. "I did something stupid and you had to use magic to get us out of there. I should never have put you in that position. Either of you."

[altusimperius]

Maybe it's the adrenaline, maybe he just doesn't want to focus on the fact that he cast a spell in a crowded tavern and what that would mean if it got back to the wrong person, but Benedict is determined to breeze past Colin's anxieties and get this night back on the right track.

"I think going back to your place is a fine idea," he insists, looping an arm through Colin's and then through Edgard's, "and that we should never speak of this again, especially using those words."