overjoyed_logs | [ open ] as i walk through the streets of my new city

Entry tags:

dragon age | marian hawke

[ open ] as i walk through the streets of my new city

Who: Hawkward Moment and Associates
Where: All over! Mostly Westerley
When: There's something terribly funny about typing "the last five years" here.
Summary: Previously on The Young and the Kirkwalled aka a pre-game catchall for Hawke!
Restrictions/Warnings: Some assortment of accident prone wrong (or right) doing and swearing here.

ONE | RAC

[ So, Hawke is a Level 3 RAC Agent. She very much has the ability to be higher than that and even the qualifications. She also, very clearly, does not want it. Level 3 allows her a cushy middle ground where she's not really expected of much and can be mostly left alone.

Let's not leave Hawke alone! ]

TWO | WESTERLEY

[ Hawke has a tiny studio apartment that doesn't even have a bed. She sleeps on the couch. She has the money to live better, sure, but she doesn't speak about it and doesn't like talking about it. She has a dog bed though, so at least her priorities are in order. Where is her dog right now? Kind of a mystery. The guy likes to roam.

Maybe you're her neighbor. Maybe you end up at the same bar as her a lot of the time. Maybe she did a job for you and helped find your lost cat. Hawke doesn't have a reason to be anywhere, she just always ends up there. ]

THREE | NETWORK

[ Please text Hawke. Send her memes. ]

FOUR | WILDCARD

[ Anything and everything is possible when you're a lone vagabond who doesn't know how to say no. Just, you know, don't ever ask her about Kirkwall. Here is her CR Meme link and if you want to hash out anything, hit me up via claptrap or any of the other options. ]

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[ It's been a year or two since Jack casually started hiring Hawke for warrants that he (or the Company) needed doing. Truth be told, his reasons were... Not the best. Admittedly. Like, sure, she had all of the proper credentials, and that's how he could justify the expense, but when it came to why he'd actually requested Hawke over some other Killjoy?

Well.

She was hot. It was pretty much that simple.

This wasn't exactly a new trend of his, since he had a bad habit of picking his Killjoys on looks alone, but generally speaking, that was about the last he heard of them. Most RAC assholes preferred to be, well, assholes and not exactly return the kind of friendliness that Jack approached every situation with. Honestly rude! But at the very least, Hawke was a little different. They indulged in each other jokes, she didn't ask too many questions, and on the occasions that they ran into each other outside of a "work" environment, she didn't actually leave. So by now? They were kind of friends. Or something.

Though considering why he's heading to her place today, he's not sure if that's the right word. Because more often than not? It was this. It was returning her dog, because with as well as he knew Westerley, he just happened to run into her dog more than once. He shakes his head, as he looks down at her dog, and before he knocks, he gives a comment. ]

Y'know, she does realize someone's gonna, I dunno, eat you or something if this keeps happening right? Friggin' idiot.

[ But, that commentary aside. He knocks on the door, half-banging, because he knows he'll probably be waking her lazy ass up ]

Hey, jackass, I've got your dog again! Open up.

[ you. you said send her memes. how can I not do both. ]

this is you

[ You know what Hawke's very tired of? Almost being stabbed. That's something exceptionally exhausting to her but here she is, once again, recovering from a near stab wound.

... Or, well, is it a near stab wound if it broke skin? It just sort of skimmed. She punched a guy, knife went a little topsy turvy. That whole thing. She's not quite sure. Especially when the guy stole her own knife in the first place. Is it truly a stab wound if it was your own knife? That seems terribly disloyal.

This is what's going through her mind as she walks down a hall on the cruiser, frowning down at the bandages laced around her middle. She's even pulled her shirt up for the ability to frown down at these bandages, like they've betrayed her. Like they've killed her dog. Her... dog that she currently isn't sure the location of right now but, you know.

She glances up after a moment, still ruminating on stabs and near stabs and the betrayal that is knives that stab you, especially when they're your own -- when she spots Peter! Hawke is fond of Peter, he's a good man which is a rare and refreshing thing for Hawke after the... everything that is most of her life. She finds herself brightening as she jogs forward to catch up with him, letting her hands fall loosely behind her and clasping her wrist with one hand as she walks. ]

Burke. Looking as well as ever, I see. Very pink and wrinkle free. Quite like a newborn, in fact. [ Hawke, please. ] Have you been frequenting those Leithian spas? I hear they're incredibly magical. Fairytale-like. A real happy ending with every service, you see.

[ So, great part about being a RAC Agent: you can basically hang out in Leith like, whenever, and not worry about being carried off for being a dirty Westie. You can also go basically wherever on Leith because of the prior fact.

Today, Hawke finds herself at the Bazaar with no real goal other than to meet up with Neal and uh, shop? Or something? She's not actually sure. It was his choice to meet and she's just really here for the pretty everything. People, food, things, etc.

She's not actually sure where she's meeting Neal either so she's just sort of lingering at a stall with an exceptionally large amount of bright colored flowers and wondering if she should buy herself some kind of pastry. Maybe, she thinks, if she gets the right kind of pastry, Neal will spring forth from the crowd like the pretty boy symbol of hedonism he is.

Mock her pastry choices in the interim.

Something like that. ]

[ There are a few things going against this warrant in Hawke's opinion.

1) It involved a great deal of tracking. Hawke wasn't opposed, really, but it got rather tedious after a while and she always felt antsy towards the end of it. She was close, dreadfully so, to just throwing in the towel, charging into the place and letting the pieces fall where they may. That wouldn't work because --

2) The warrant asked for a partner and it asked for a Company partner. She ended up with the surly one, Fenris, who she tended to lightly avoid because she could never tell if it was her personality or something else that set his teeth so on edge. Hawke wasn't really great when it came to people so directly antagonistic with her when she couldn't figure out a why. If she knew why, she knew how to navigate it. When she didn't, that's when she felt off-balance.

3) The warrant in general had to deal with Company issues. Someone skimming money off the top, in a sense. She's sure the target was also nefarious in intent but overall, it wasn't a crime that Hawke really cared about -- but her rent was coming up soon and she couldn't afford to be picky.

Today, they're on the edge of the man's estate where he's holed up for a while in order to avoid certain issues coming to light. The warrant stated that the target was capture or kill up to the discretion of the Company agent. Hawke had no qualms with that but it also added a certain friction where technically, Fenris was the one taking point here. That's something Hawke found aggravating too -- so maybe another 4th point there.

Hawke finds herself slumped behind a rock with Fenris, picking at a hole in her jeans and wondering when they will finally break this whole "taking watch" point of the mission and maybe indulge in a little storming of the castle. The urge to bring it up again is on the tip of her tongue but she knows, logically, that they should probably wait until they see any signs of life first.

But also, it's been hours and if anyone deserves his house being broken into, it's a greedy Company man. ]

Have you ever played "Never Have I Ever"?

I'm offended you thought I knew anything at all in my entire life.

[ honestly ]

ok that's a fair point. I think when you know things it's kinda by accident so yeah let's try again

so real question was that actually your email or did you make it to mess with me because I've been wondering for years

Are you underestimating my ability to eat ass?

[ WHY IS THIS A TAG I'VE HAD TO SEND I ONLY JUST GOT IN THE GAME ]

[ Jack immediately regrets this conversation because. He's definitely probably sweating and I'm kinkshaming him for being so easy and he's stupid ]

uh

nnnnnnno? maybe? I don't know that's like not something you really advertise. usually?

see this is exactly why I was wondering if you were messing with me hawke

[ Look, Jack of all people should know you should let sleeping birds lie. When the door opens, he is totally correct because she was asleep, but now she's pulling open the door to her apartment, still half dead but also extremely underdressed. A t-shirt and underwear. That's it. Thanks, Jack. Hawke also has no shame so check out that collection of scars, buddy. This is probably not the first time this has happened either.

She runs a hand through her hair as she stares blankly at Jack before her eyes drop to her dog and she brightens, crouching down immediately to give Garrett a good scratch. He woofs in response and she seems pleased. ]

Oh, Garrett, my love. Were you exploring again? You keep bringing me back bad men and eventually I'm going to take this as a hint.

[ Woof :B

But Hawke eventually stands up and beckons the both of them inside, giving a yawn as she turns to go. ]

Jack, come get some coffee before I change my mind, will you?

[ You don't try to shame Hawke, Jack!! She'll just come back way too hard and it'll be embarrassing for everyone. Everyone that isn't Hawke, that is. ]

So I shouldn't be advertising my exceptional skill at booty eating? I wasn't quite aware. I thought, perhaps, if I used it as my work email it would be the first thing one might think of when they thought of me and my skill set. A foot in the door, as they say.

The back door, that is.

okay well maybe you're the ass eating champion BUT I'm just throwing this out here but I can guess why you didn't get the job. because I mean it's not like you provided an alternate so I totally sent it. weirdly there was no comment. kinda disappointing? god people outside of westerley have such GIANT sticks up their asses I swear

anyways this is exactly why I don't hire you for like. infiltration jobs. btw

Well, that's awfully disappointing. I can't help but feel a piece of me shatter at the realization.

Also, why not? I speak Leithian, you know.

[ No, it's just whatever they're speaking but with a snooty accent. Like Hawke's attempts to speak Orlesian. ]

[ Fenris is not known for his patience, but he's capable of following a plan. Though his orders left this mealy-mouthed bureaucrat's fate in Fenris's own unkind hands, he knew the matter had to be addressed in a certain way. A full-on assault would not look good; moreover, it might frighten the other paunchy cowards in this man's embezzling ring. No. His end had to look less than official, and for once, Fenris is all too glad to obey.

Hawke's presence was a bit of a monkey wrench, though. He hadn't expected her as his partner on this task, but it wasn't like he had any say in it, either. As with so many things in his life (which is to say, basically everything), the Company made the decision for him.

It's not that he dislikes her. Truth be told, he's not sure what he feels, and he probably wouldn't be able to articulate it even if she asked him, point-blank. There's just something about her, something unsettling. He sometimes feels her name in the back of his throat at the oddest times; sometimes wakes with her face lingering behind his eyes. He doesn't know why, and he can't spare the energy to think about it too deeply. Better to just gloss over it.

But that's hard to do when circumstance throws them together like this.

Fenris sighs, rubbing the side of his face. Their target hasn't so much as shifted behind his curtains for the past two hours.

He speaks through gritted teeth. ]

I can't say that I have.

Edited 2017-02-11 02:14 (UTC)

I KNOW right??? like I'm 99.2% sure you're being sarcastic but I was so disappointed

ugh

also you don't speak leithian. stop telling people that

[She doesn't have to buy a pastry for Neal to spring forth from the crowd like the pretty boy symbol of hedonism he is. She is, after all, looking at flowers, and every pretty boy is drawn to flowers. It's one of the laws of the universe. That, or it just happens to be the time they agreed to meet, and Neal is never late.

But it's probably the former.

Neal walks up next to her, joining her contemplation of these flowers. After a moment he picks up one that's the exact same shade of blue as his eyes.]

What do you think?

[He grins, and holds it against his lapel. Except that he's wearing a leather jacket and there's no button hole, or even really a lapel, but he can find a way to attach it, somehow.]

[ This, like many of his encounters with Hawke, almost immediately strikes him as a mistake. She was so... casual about everything, and this may not have been the first time this has happened, but his reaction is exactly the same every time. His eyes are drawn, well, down, and he's very suddenly and easily reminded that Hawke is an attractive woman that he'd really, really like to woo. And she doesn't always wear the right amount of clothes. Christ, Hawke. He's glad for the mask, since it hides the color coming to his cheeks in particular, and as his eyes return to her face, he throws on a cheeky grin, ready to throw out some kind of terrible pick-up line.

...But his expression falls when Hawke speaks, so she's thankfully saved from this. ]

Hey—

[ Jack follows her in without hesitation, though whether it's because it was offered or because he has a Point to make isn't very clear... At least it's already fine with Hawke, though that may be in part because Jack isn't exactly a threatening presence to her. ]

I'm not bad. How am I bad?

[ also full of a stunning lack of self-awareness a lot of the time ]

I absolutely do speak Leithian. Why wouldn't I speak Leithian? Anyone can, Jack. I studied it and everything.

[ HON HON HON ]

putting on an accent does not count as speaking another language

[ It's -- well, it's childish. That's something she can acknowledge. The game, the cavalier attitude towards it all, but it's how Hawke is able to be here with Fenris and not quite lose her mind in the process. There's an itch under her skin, a need to either push forward into that house or ask Fenris the millions of questions floating through her mind.

That's part of whatever this thing with Fenris was. She feels like there's things about him she should know, as if she has a right to it -- which just feels silly, so she keeps quiet. She wants to know more though, about his days. Where does he live? Does he sleep well at night? Did he have breakfast that morning? What does he do in his spare time? She thinks she can picture him reading, maybe, but that also feels a little off to her.

Ugh, she's never been so curious about something in her life. ]

I want to say I'm surprised, but.

[ She shrugs and idly skims her fingers over the knife at her belt. The rock against her back is rough and uneven and she taps her foot in the dirt out of anticipation. ]

Would you like to? It might kill a bit of time, since we're stuck here for ages regardless.

[ It's kind of hilarious, the struggle going on with Jack right now because Hawke is completely unaware of it. No, she approaches the whole situation with the same ease she approaches everything else, and instead wanders over to her kitchenette as she sets on a pot of coffee. Tea's more her preference but you know, sometimes you have to kick your own ass awake.

Jack won't have to move in far either since the apartment is really just a tiny studio. The only real "room" in it is the bathroom but otherwise, the bed is tucked in the corner across from the kitchen and there's a couch and TV in one other area. The rest is just... rugs and a bike and other just things scattered about. There's at least a small table and two chairs that Jack can sit at for coffee, which he probably has before.

Then Jack is getting all insecure at her again and this is something she takes great amusement in because for all the power Jack's got at his fingertips, he's kind of hysterically easy to pick at. She smiles bright and easy as she pops some bread in her toaster and gives him a look. ]

Are you really asking me that? You have looked in the mirror lately, right? Or do I need to pick on your mask again. I might, it's easy pickings and I'm a little slow with my wit as I wake up.

[ She shrugs and opens up her fridge to fish out the jam. She is a little hungry, huh. Of course, Garrett, meanwhile just sort of flops across the couch. ]

An accent! You disgrace me, Jack. It's as if you have no respect for the depth of my multicultural knowledge. I'm a world traveler and sometimes, in that, one picks up new skills.

Are you jealous?

no because AS USUAL you're totally full of shit

like where have you even been outside of the quad

I'll have you know, there are plenty of places outside of the Quad full of rich, vast cultures that I have plunged for myself.

Where have YOU been outside of the Quad?

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[ open ] as i walk through the streets of my new city

two

three

peturrr burrrke

show me a neal good time

fenris aka that one gotye song

god damnit

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