[open + closed]

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict, Barrow, Teren, Fifi, whoever
WHAT: general catch all
WHEN: gestures vaguely
WHERE: gestures vaguely again
NOTES: hmu if you want something bespoke or honestly just throw something at me, I trust you

*~* starters in comments *~*

Comments

[thereneverwas]

"Is it?" Barrow laughs-- the Gallows, nice-- but doesn't argue. It has its charms.

"Dunno that Kirkwall would deserve it, to tell the truth. Dunno that it deserves any of this. Or us." He shrugs a shoulder, take a drink. They're here anyway.

[brennvin]

“Okay, maybe not Kirkwall as a whole. Just—”

The templars, the Circle of Magi and how it’d gone so horrifically wrong. She’d gathered enough history and gossip from drunk locals in the city bars about it, heard them singing some drinking song about a red lyrium corpse. But Astrid remembers just a moment too late who she’s talking to and so she abandons that sentence, instead frowning down at her cards again. Pivot topics, pivot, pivot—

She’d gotten one up, clawing her way back into the mix, but now it’s another hand lost, an exhale of exaggerated annoyance which isn’t really annoyance. Astrid slides her cards back across the table.

“Good thing we’re not gambling with cash.” She’d probably have lost it all by now.

[thereneverwas]

"Just?" Barrow presses, but gently-- if she shrugs him off, he'll let it go.

"Take a break, if you want," he adds with a grin, tossing his cards down, "hate to kick someone who's already down."

[brennvin]

Astrid rolls her eyes, but she does give in, setting down her cards. “Next time, we’re rolling bone-dice,” she says.

And—

“And just, y’know. The templars. Heard they were particular assholes over here Kirkwall way.”

[thereneverwas]

"Fine," he concedes, with a twinkle in his eye that suggests he will Make This Difficult-- but it fizzles away into something gentler at what she says next.

"Oh. Yeah. So I hear." He begins to collect the cards, shuffling them, "things were real bad 'round then, in lots of places. Think it all sort of came to a head."

[brennvin]

“Yeh. I know shit got bad down in the Hinterlands,” Astrid admits, “but I didn’t see much of it up in the mountains. Didn’t really reach us besides hearing about Haven. Mum kept me out of the lowlands that summer.”

This isn’t exactly what she’d meant to trip into, his prodding only accidentally dislodging it. She pauses, quickly pivots on a conversational heel: “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t like.”

[thereneverwas]

Blowing out a puff of air at the mention of Haven, Barrow nods. Haven's not Crestwood, but it's still Ferelden, still the same sort of people; they all felt it.

"S'all right," he says, lapsing back into a tentative smile, "got no love for the Order, really. Things were fucked from all directions."

maybe a wrap?

[brennvin]

“True enough,” Astrid agrees.

And even though he’s given her the stamp of approval to talk about it, she doesn’t press harder, doesn’t try to dig deeper just yet. Even with the Andrastianism all over him (who names their kid Obeisance?), she forgets sometimes that that was where he came from, and it is in fact easier to let herself forget: templars, bogeymen, someone far more likely to be chased out of Avvar mountains than given welcome. They wouldn’t have liked what they’d see up there.

So she grabs their empty mugs instead, half-rising from her seat: “Another round?”

And she’ll seize that distraction and refill their drinks, and the conversation will meander and trundle onward, and it’ll be a nice day, really.

ties bow

[thereneverwas]

"Count me in."