altusimperius (
altusimperius) wrote in
faderift2021-03-02 10:31 am
[closed]
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
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?"

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"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?"
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"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.
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"...well, we managed," he says awkwardly, forging on.
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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.
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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."
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"That barbarian."
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Edgard glances at the shirt.
"The color might add something to it. A stain of victory."
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"You defended me." It was kinda hot.
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"Should I go?" He asks crooking his thumb over his shoulder.
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"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."
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"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."