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.

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[arcreact]

k.

[ There's no follow up to that for a while, but Hawke's being the kind of avoidant and obnoxious that means there's probably something wrong with her (not to be confused with the kind that's just her normal personality - he knows the difference.) He wraps up what he'd been working on in the lab and takes a stab at her location - it's about ten minutes later that he just waltzes into her bedroom doorway. ]

I've never heard this much silence coming from this room.

[ Surreal. Spooky. ]

[otiosity]

[Hawke knew he would find her eventually. She knew that she was only delaying the inevitable with her meandering and purposeful illogical points. And right now she can't decide if that's a good thing or not. Maybe it's both good at bad.

She glances over at him from her position on the bed. She doesn't look like she's ill but she looks unwell. Since Varric left, it often felt as though her body moved on it's own while her mind was trapped in some strange well inside her head. And when they became as one again, she seemed to have no strength left and could do nothing but collapse in her bed, one of his books gripped tightly against her stomach.]

I've been practicing blowing my nose quieter. I'm glad you noticed.

[arcreact]

Thank you for your much delayed courtesy.

[ With a sneaking suspicion that some of his concerns may in fact be well-founded, he moves closer and makes a vague gesture at... all of her, sprawled across the bed. ]

Collapse your giraffe form a little, I'm sitting down.

[otiosity]

[Hawke sighs deeply and rolls over so that he can plop down beside her.

Part of her is glad he's here while the other part wishes he would leave. She feels wounded and vulnerable and there's something terrifying about someone else seeing that.]

[arcreact]

[ Tony plops down like he owns the place and gives her a long, assessing look. Something about this situation is giving him deja vu that he chooses to ignore.

Eventually, ]

I mean, I could ask some prying questions, or you could just tell me what's bothering you. I can probably think of some vulnerable confession in exchange.

[ Maybe. Ehhhh... maybe. ]

[otiosity]

Hmmm let's see.

I spent a few day wet and cold and miserable. And all the subsequent mold is giving me a headache. Back home, Kirkwall is a mess and I'm expected to do something about it to fix it. Oh, and Varric's gone.

[Despite her attempt to hide in a list of comical complaints, her voice chokes at the last one. She gave herself away. Or maybe part of her secretly wanted to. She doesn't acknowledge her falter and just grips the book more tightly in her hands, her eyes on the ceiling.]

[arcreact]

[ Most of those things he could have guessed already (wet, miserable, and with a headache most prominently). But- ]

Oh.

[ Varric's gone. What?? ]

Well shit.

[otiosity]

[She didn't know what she expected Tony to say to the revelation but... it wasn't that.

"Well shit". Those were Varric's words. She could hear his voice in her mind saying that phrase, echoing and reverberating around in her head until it almost felt like she was in pain.

Hawke makes a strangled noise, somewhere between a cry of pain when stubbing your toe and someone choking on their own runny nose. Then it turns into a laugh. A slightly disjointed, disconnected laugh since there's nothing really funny at all.]

Yeah.

Sums it up.

[arcreact]

[ Yeah. Yeah, it really does, doesn't it?

What would he do if it were Pepper? Or Hawke, or Nate? He still doesn't know. He's accepted it as a possibility, maybe even an inevitability... and yet he's never stopped to dwell too long on what the quiet moments after would be like. When it's just you and your thoughts.

That's the stage Hawke is currently at, it seems. ]

Now I can't even give you a hard time about being melodramatic.

[ Thanks for ruining everything Hawke!!!! ]

[otiosity]

I'm not even good at sad melodrama. I don't cry, my nose just runs and I look like a human waterfall.

[She sniffs and rubs at her nose. Sometimes she wishes she could cry instead of feeling slightly disconnected from it all. Maybe it would some how relieve her from what she's feeling. Like cutting open a festering wound. And yet she never was able to do it. Not even when her mother died.

Hawke sighs deeply and looks over at him, finally. Her blue eyes aren't red like her nose but they're exhausted and dull.]

I never thought he'd... Well, you know.