IC Contact

[otiosity]

You've reached Hawke! Leave a message on this thing that I don't even remotely understand and I'll fumble my way to figure out how to answer your most important request.

Probably.

Comments

[purramedic]

[The exasperated breath he releases and the very clear plea to the Maker on his face are truthfully more in response to Hawke's obstinacy than the unpleasant everything-else about this incident. He can cry about his precious boots later.]

Now will you go get treated?

[otiosity]

Is there anything left to treat?

[She moves to touch her face, remembers the vomit, and then goes to wipe it off on some poor unsuspecting rock and then her pants. She glances over at him and softens, just a little.]

You don't have to be worried about me. Despite stomach upsets, I'm a big girl who's managed to take care of herself these past six months. You'll start going grey if you do.

[purramedic]

[His arms cross tightly over his chest as he quirks a brow at her.]

As if I need your help. I have an obligation to be perpetually worried for someone whose brightest moneymaking idea is treasure hunting in the bloody Deep Roads. [He swears, if she brings up that it was actually very lucrative --]

We both know I won't stop nagging until you go.

[otiosity]

Well actually-

[Oh wait. Maybe that's not the best path do go down. She sighs and rolls her eyes.]

Oh, alright. Though I'm going to sulk and complain the entire time.