[Hawke calls into the video as if he'd been calling for Anders for a time already and is only now being heard. That's not the case, but it's how harried he feels.]
[Anders, on the other hand, isn't in any rush at all, it seems. He answers the hurried call with a raised eyebrow and, based on his surroundings, he's clearly still sitting at his desk.]
[Probably two minutes after Adalwolfe's call, the next person to ask Anders about the Iskaulit does not do him the courtesy of simply calling him. Oh, no, instead, Jon barges right into the medical wing, looking more than a little worried. He knows his siblings weren't on the ship, but now that the possibility's been brought up, he needs to see for himself the damage that's been wrought. And he can't exactly help, he's not a healer or a maester or anything.
But, as it follows, he knows somebody who could.]
We need to go to the Iskaulit. [...that's real forceful.]
[Anders still has his hair down, loose around his face and neck and Jon's sudden appearance and demand has him running a hand through it in aggravation.]
For Maker's sake. Did Hawke put you up to this?
[No, probably not. Not with the way he sounded there at the end. Great, just great, someone else asking things from Anders he didn't want to hear.]
The idea had been niggling at the back of Hawke's mind for some time now. How it seems everyone else in the fleet has received a beloved pet from this miraculous tree in the middle of the forest. After meeting Kiter, after seeing Daenerys' dragon egg, after seeing Ser-Pounce-a-Lot in he's full feline personage instead of by description, Hawke is eager to make an attempt himself at a companion.
Truth be told he's missed his mabari fiercely since he left Drools with Carver in Kirkwall. He'd done it because he didn't want to leave Carver alone, because they could protect each other, and because feeding himself, Anders, and a 9 stone Mabari would have been a logistical nightmare if there wasn't enough small game around. Or large game. Or any. Plus as smart as Drools was, he couldn't sneak into Circle Towers to help them take that final plunge. No, he'd told himself, Kirkwall was still the best place for him.
But with the fleet apparently able to take people out of their times and plop them right back in when they're returned... well, why not? It wouldn't leave Carver alone, technically, and he could stock up on meat here and freeze it for feeding the dog over time. Why shouldn't he be able to have Ser Drools, if all his worries have solutions?
Excited by the prospect, Hawke hardly thinks very much at all about bounding up the bridges and stairs to Anders' treehouse to ask the mage for help. Or, rather, he thinks entirely too much about it. He likes Kirk well enough, likes Marian, likes Tyrion, but to share an actual memory with them, personal memories of family, in order to achieve his gift... he's not sure he's ready for that with any of them. Kirk should remain uncomplicated, Marian is uncomplicated enough, and Tyrion is so shrewd that Hawke imagines he'll figure something out about him that he doesn't want the other man to know.
But Anders... as complicated as things are with their separated times, Hawke doesn't mind this kind of intimacy with Anders. He's already done it, already will have done it. He's an open book to the other mage, he's finding. Even now, when Anders doesn't know what is to come, he doesn't mind sharing all of it.
All but one thing. He's effectively ripped that page out of the book and swallowed it.
But that's not at all on his mind now. What is, is a big pink tongue, a big wet nose, and a caning muscle so full of exuberance that instead of wagging his tail, he wags his entire body. Maker but he wants his dog so badly.
"Anders! Are you in?" He knocks even as he calls out, hoping the blond isn't off in some other part of town.
The voice comes from behind Hawke. Anders had seen Adalwolfe's mad dash up the stairs to Anders' landing and it had certainly gotten his interest. What could possibly cause that? Except maybe impending danger, he supposed.
His shoulder was adorned with his kitten and his arms held an empty bag and a homemade blanket, a recent gift of thanks for his healing potions. Really, these people here were far nicer to him for being a healer than he'd ever seen before. It reminded him of Hawke's story.
But that was neither here nor there at the moment. "How about I set my stuff inside and then you can show me where the fire is?"
[So much had come at Riona after she'd woken up. A lot needed to be said, though that had been delayed thanks to Leliana's little artistic endeavor on Riona's face (Maker she was going to get the bard for that one).
But the absolute first thing she needed to do, after washing off her face and ensuring Kiter was all right, was talk to Anders. Maker's breath, all her talks with him... she saw them in a different light now. Balls but she was so sorry that she hadn't met him yet. It must have hurt him, and that was why she needed to talk to him now.
As she turns on her communicator, she struggles to think of how to start, of what to say to them. Really, it should be something witty or sarcastic at the very least. But her head's still muddled from sleeping for a few days, and she's too distracted by her guilt to think very clearly. So all she manages when the feed starts is:]
[Nothing, yet. He doesn't know what The Big Sleep might mean. He answers airily, clearly simply chilling out on his bed on the planet, Pounce curled up on his chest.]
Ah, my daring Warden-Commander! Awake from your beauty sleep? You scared a few of us, comas aren't healthy last I checked.
What do you remember? How charming I am? How handsome?
It's barely morning. Wolfe only knows because of the little ticking numbers on his communicator. There's no sunlight creeping through threadbare curtains of their little cottage, there's no sound of birds or breeze or farmers taking their cows out for the morning pasture.
Yet somehow, it feels so very close to all that anyway, scrunched into a too-small bed with his love, the one person for which his arms had been aching for months. It feels longer. Years. Ages. He'd left their little house and gone to Skyhold, then Crestwood, then Adamant, the Fade, then just gone from Thedas entirely. Some people spend their entire lives in one place. Sometimes, he wishes he was one of them, so long as that place is beside Anders.
He'd woken up with his nose buried against the back of his love's neck, curled around him in a protective huddle, as if worried something or other will tear them apart again. He is worried about that, worried his luck won't hold. Worried he'll wake up and still be in the damned clinic, waiting for Anders to wake while he just gets thinner and thinner...
But no. Anders is here. Even after admitting what he'd thought in the Fade, that he'd given up hope, Anders is still here with him, thinks of him no less, and a warm feeling spreads through his chest. How could he have ever doubted?
It's just a brush of lips at first, careful not to disturb even the collar of Anders' shirt. He'd shed his own before sleep, apparently impervious to the coldness of the room, but Anders has always gotten colder more quickly. It's because he's so thin, Hawke thinks. No fat to keep him insulated. But that too Hawke loves about Anders, his narrow hips, his lean body, the long calloused fingers that would almost be elegant if not for his knobbly knuckles. Hawke loves those adorable knuckles. Loves to kiss them, taste the vague touch of lyrium and soap and the everpresence of just a hint of copper. He loves to feel them too, against him, inside him.
Hawke kisses the back of Anders' neck again, still gently but perhaps with just a touch more urgency as he wraps his arms more securely around his love, seeking those very fingers to thread through his own.
For the first time in a long time, he slept through the whole night without stirring. He slept soundly, safely in his love's arms again. He'd even found sleep easier the night before with that security blanket around him and Hawke's warm breath against him. Even the smaller size of the bed couldn't bother him.
The first kiss draws a small muffled sound and a slight stir, but it's the second one and those fingers curling in his that has Anders' eyes cracking open.
His mind still feels a little fuzzy, but even though he's not a hundred percent sure where he is at first, it doesn't matter. He knows these arms and this presence. The scent of Hawke, cool and crisp like a winter morning but also a little naturey in his base scent, something earthy and utterly pleasant and so incredibly Hawke, Anders would recognize it in an instant.
"Good morning, love."
His memories, recent and distant, come back to him as he squeezes Hawke's fingers and then disentangles himself so he can slowly turn in his lover's embrace and press nearer to him. Gently, long fingers trace and stroke the delicate skin of Adalwolfe's neck and a loving smile spreads on Anders' face.
"Think you could put one of those kisses where it belongs?"
[Early evening on the Three Twins and with nothing else to do until hours later, Hawke is spending his time with his very favorite apostate, though not doing what you'd expect. Instead of more fun strenuous activity, they're instead knocking staves together in the cargo bay. No magic, just moves.
Getting back into shape after being out of commission is always difficult. His body still remembers what to do and how to do it but getting it to actually move the way he wants it to without any stiffness takes more effort than he likes. It's not nearly as bad as after fighting the Arishok, nor even Meredith, but it's just as frustrating. Anders being the one he's facing off against makes it a little easier, though. At least he doesn't get so winded that he can't talk while they move, running through patterns instead of fighting in earnest.
If he can just figure out how to say it.
Wolfe licks his lips, deciding this is a good moment, just after he swings into Anders' block with little strength, glad his shoulder doesn't twinge.]
So I keep meaning to tell you, I spoke with someone interesting before the whole prison and fight thing.
[His body remembers the moves, on nights when he couldn't sleep and couldn't find sanctuary in Hawke's arms for his absence, he'd worn himself down with their old patterns and training. But his arms had forgotten the feeling of someone actually putting up an impact on the other side and Anders was willing to bet they were going to be sore later. It would be a good sore.]
[It's a not so special day. Wolfe is flopped on the floor, wedged in a corner so he can prop his crossed legs up against the opposite wall and brace his back against the bunk as he clicks away on his communicator, trying out a few of the other games Crowley has on the network idly. Anders has the bed; the only reason he's alone on it is because this is one of the rare times that Pounce has deigned to offer his magnanimous presence to Hawke and is currently curled up in the Champion's lap purring and occasionally kneading his thigh. Anders has expressed to him before that this is a form of affection, but Wolfe could do without the claws stabbing his tender flesh every so often without warning.
Even so, there's a companionable silence, both men going about their own business but comforted by the very presence of the other. Still, these silences creep in on Adalwolfe, especially when the games no longer seem so engaging and he starts to wonder about things that really don't need wondered about.
At length, he brings down the communicator and looks over at Anders, worrying at his lower lip a bit.]
[Anders, for his part, was taking the opportunity of having the bed to himself to sprawl down the middle of it. A book he'd borrowed from Hermione in his hand and Drools curled up against his thigh, snuffling in his sleep, Anders had barely been paying attention when Hawke spoke up.
A brief pause and the book was slowly lowered to Anders' side as he looked over at Hawke with an expression of pure confusion.]
[It's late afternoon when Adalwolfe saunters into the Three Twins' medlab and interposes himself in the middle of whatever Anders is doing. It's not generally in Hawke's mien to saunter but here he is, practically bursting with energy and giving Anders bedroom eyes as he twirls the other mage around and pulls him close in order to kiss him squarely on the mouth.]
[An amorous Hawke certainly wasn't what he was expecting all of a sudden, it wasn't even time for him to be back, was it? Maybe the powers were acting strangely again and he had to come home.
But it was hard to think with Wolfe's lips on his like that. And that look in his eyes. And the way he seemed to just own the room with his presence. Hawke was suddenly intoxicating. A pleased little sound fled into the other mage's mouth and Anders smiled.]
Oh? What's the occasion? Not that I'm complaining, mind you.
Anders! [She's got a burning need to share what she's learned about Justice.] Well, before I get into it, are you talking to Justice? I swear, I'm not asking just to nag, there's a reason for this. [Though she wants an update, too.]
[Aang remembers this man from the Games. He healed the woman with pointed ears from District 10--Tabris--when she was struck by lightning during the arena where they were all punished for their power.
Aang knows that this one knows how to heal and has been at it for a long time, and it's gotten to the point where he's started thinking that maybe he should try to get better at being a medical officer. Regardless of how or why he's here, it looks like he might be here for the long haul.
So when he pops his head into the Tourist's medical bay, he waves a little as an introduction, though he's still too wary to actually come close to the healer.]
[Justice is in pain and he doesn't know how to make it stop. Pain is a dangerous thing. He doesn't know what to do with it, how he should respond, if he should respond at all beyond forgetting...
So guess where he goes when he doesn't know what to do?
Justice is holding Loyalty, who's determinedly purring as she rubs her head against his chin, as he barges right into Anders' clinic without preamble, looking the absolute picture of misery.]
[Justice barging in isn't much of a surprise these days, but the first thing he sees is Loyalty, who Justice doesn't tend to just carry around without reason, and his first thought is maybe something to do with the cat- until he sees his friend's face.
The mage moves quickly away from the counter he'd been working at and moves to put a hand on Justice's arm, motioning for them to sit on one of the beds with his free hand.]
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apurrstate) wrote2016-05-03 09:35 pm
Video
Anders!
[Hawke calls into the video as if he'd been calling for Anders for a time already and is only now being heard. That's not the case, but it's how harried he feels.]
Anders, there are people hurt on the Iskaulit.
Video
I saw. Terrible.
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[action]
But, as it follows, he knows somebody who could.]
We need to go to the Iskaulit. [...that's real forceful.]
[action]
For Maker's sake. Did Hawke put you up to this?
[No, probably not. Not with the way he sounded there at the end. Great, just great, someone else asking things from Anders he didn't want to hear.]
Why?
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Truth be told he's missed his mabari fiercely since he left Drools with Carver in Kirkwall. He'd done it because he didn't want to leave Carver alone, because they could protect each other, and because feeding himself, Anders, and a 9 stone Mabari would have been a logistical nightmare if there wasn't enough small game around. Or large game. Or any. Plus as smart as Drools was, he couldn't sneak into Circle Towers to help them take that final plunge. No, he'd told himself, Kirkwall was still the best place for him.
But with the fleet apparently able to take people out of their times and plop them right back in when they're returned... well, why not? It wouldn't leave Carver alone, technically, and he could stock up on meat here and freeze it for feeding the dog over time. Why shouldn't he be able to have Ser Drools, if all his worries have solutions?
Excited by the prospect, Hawke hardly thinks very much at all about bounding up the bridges and stairs to Anders' treehouse to ask the mage for help. Or, rather, he thinks entirely too much about it. He likes Kirk well enough, likes Marian, likes Tyrion, but to share an actual memory with them, personal memories of family, in order to achieve his gift... he's not sure he's ready for that with any of them. Kirk should remain uncomplicated, Marian is uncomplicated enough, and Tyrion is so shrewd that Hawke imagines he'll figure something out about him that he doesn't want the other man to know.
But Anders... as complicated as things are with their separated times, Hawke doesn't mind this kind of intimacy with Anders. He's already done it, already will have done it. He's an open book to the other mage, he's finding. Even now, when Anders doesn't know what is to come, he doesn't mind sharing all of it.
All but one thing. He's effectively ripped that page out of the book and swallowed it.
But that's not at all on his mind now. What is, is a big pink tongue, a big wet nose, and a caning muscle so full of exuberance that instead of wagging his tail, he wags his entire body. Maker but he wants his dog so badly.
"Anders! Are you in?" He knocks even as he calls out, hoping the blond isn't off in some other part of town.
Action
The voice comes from behind Hawke. Anders had seen Adalwolfe's mad dash up the stairs to Anders' landing and it had certainly gotten his interest. What could possibly cause that? Except maybe impending danger, he supposed.
His shoulder was adorned with his kitten and his arms held an empty bag and a homemade blanket, a recent gift of thanks for his healing potions. Really, these people here were far nicer to him for being a healer than he'd ever seen before. It reminded him of Hawke's story.
But that was neither here nor there at the moment. "How about I set my stuff inside and then you can show me where the fire is?"
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wrap?
video
But the absolute first thing she needed to do, after washing off her face and ensuring Kiter was all right, was talk to Anders. Maker's breath, all her talks with him... she saw them in a different light now. Balls but she was so sorry that she hadn't met him yet. It must have hurt him, and that was why she needed to talk to him now.
As she turns on her communicator, she struggles to think of how to start, of what to say to them. Really, it should be something witty or sarcastic at the very least. But her head's still muddled from sleeping for a few days, and she's too distracted by her guilt to think very clearly. So all she manages when the feed starts is:]
Anders, I remember now.
video
Ah, my daring Warden-Commander! Awake from your beauty sleep? You scared a few of us, comas aren't healthy last I checked.
What do you remember? How charming I am? How handsome?
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action; backdated to the day after Anders wakes up
Yet somehow, it feels so very close to all that anyway, scrunched into a too-small bed with his love, the one person for which his arms had been aching for months. It feels longer. Years. Ages. He'd left their little house and gone to Skyhold, then Crestwood, then Adamant, the Fade, then just gone from Thedas entirely. Some people spend their entire lives in one place. Sometimes, he wishes he was one of them, so long as that place is beside Anders.
He'd woken up with his nose buried against the back of his love's neck, curled around him in a protective huddle, as if worried something or other will tear them apart again. He is worried about that, worried his luck won't hold. Worried he'll wake up and still be in the damned clinic, waiting for Anders to wake while he just gets thinner and thinner...
But no. Anders is here. Even after admitting what he'd thought in the Fade, that he'd given up hope, Anders is still here with him, thinks of him no less, and a warm feeling spreads through his chest. How could he have ever doubted?
It's just a brush of lips at first, careful not to disturb even the collar of Anders' shirt. He'd shed his own before sleep, apparently impervious to the coldness of the room, but Anders has always gotten colder more quickly. It's because he's so thin, Hawke thinks. No fat to keep him insulated. But that too Hawke loves about Anders, his narrow hips, his lean body, the long calloused fingers that would almost be elegant if not for his knobbly knuckles. Hawke loves those adorable knuckles. Loves to kiss them, taste the vague touch of lyrium and soap and the everpresence of just a hint of copper. He loves to feel them too, against him, inside him.
Hawke kisses the back of Anders' neck again, still gently but perhaps with just a touch more urgency as he wraps his arms more securely around his love, seeking those very fingers to thread through his own.
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The first kiss draws a small muffled sound and a slight stir, but it's the second one and those fingers curling in his that has Anders' eyes cracking open.
His mind still feels a little fuzzy, but even though he's not a hundred percent sure where he is at first, it doesn't matter. He knows these arms and this presence. The scent of Hawke, cool and crisp like a winter morning but also a little naturey in his base scent, something earthy and utterly pleasant and so incredibly Hawke, Anders would recognize it in an instant.
"Good morning, love."
His memories, recent and distant, come back to him as he squeezes Hawke's fingers and then disentangles himself so he can slowly turn in his lover's embrace and press nearer to him. Gently, long fingers trace and stroke the delicate skin of Adalwolfe's neck and a loving smile spreads on Anders' face.
"Think you could put one of those kisses where it belongs?"
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After they leave the faction planets
Getting back into shape after being out of commission is always difficult. His body still remembers what to do and how to do it but getting it to actually move the way he wants it to without any stiffness takes more effort than he likes. It's not nearly as bad as after fighting the Arishok, nor even Meredith, but it's just as frustrating. Anders being the one he's facing off against makes it a little easier, though. At least he doesn't get so winded that he can't talk while they move, running through patterns instead of fighting in earnest.
If he can just figure out how to say it.
Wolfe licks his lips, deciding this is a good moment, just after he swings into Anders' block with little strength, glad his shoulder doesn't twinge.]
So I keep meaning to tell you, I spoke with someone interesting before the whole prison and fight thing.
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Yes?
[Anders's stave sweeps low for Hawke's feet.]
Who?
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[She should have contacted him sooner, but she'd been battling with herself for days over this.]
Can I talk to you somewhere private?
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Of course, Commander. We could talk in my clinic or in the greenhouse? Anywhere you'd like.
[There was a trace of worry in his eyes, but he was trying to withhold the questions on his tongue until they were face-to-face.]
video -> action
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action, whenever while floating
Even so, there's a companionable silence, both men going about their own business but comforted by the very presence of the other. Still, these silences creep in on Adalwolfe, especially when the games no longer seem so engaging and he starts to wonder about things that really don't need wondered about.
At length, he brings down the communicator and looks over at Anders, worrying at his lower lip a bit.]
Am I a bad boyfriend?
action
A brief pause and the book was slowly lowered to Anders' side as he looked over at Hawke with an expression of pure confusion.]
What? Where did that come from?
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Time for a break, Love. A long one.
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But it was hard to think with Wolfe's lips on his like that. And that look in his eyes. And the way he seemed to just own the room with his presence. Hawke was suddenly intoxicating. A pleased little sound fled into the other mage's mouth and Anders smiled.]
Oh? What's the occasion? Not that I'm complaining, mind you.
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voice.
voice.
What can I do for you?
voice.
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action I'M SO SORRY I LOST THIS TAG
action ITS OKAY!!!!
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I...am, yes? What's going on? Is something wrong?
[Did he...say something to someone?]
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Action
Aang knows that this one knows how to heal and has been at it for a long time, and it's gotten to the point where he's started thinking that maybe he should try to get better at being a medical officer. Regardless of how or why he's here, it looks like he might be here for the long haul.
So when he pops his head into the Tourist's medical bay, he waves a little as an introduction, though he's still too wary to actually come close to the healer.]
Hi. You're the medical officer here, right?
Action
I am. How can I help you?
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Action (Post-breakup)
So guess where he goes when he doesn't know what to do?
Justice is holding Loyalty, who's determinedly purring as she rubs her head against his chin, as he barges right into Anders' clinic without preamble, looking the absolute picture of misery.]
Anders, I need you explain something to me.
Action forever
The mage moves quickly away from the counter he'd been working at and moves to put a hand on Justice's arm, motioning for them to sit on one of the beds with his free hand.]
Of course. What's wrong? What's upset you?
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