OPEN RP

Nov. 18th, 2017 12:37 am
taleofthe: (Default)
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text | prose | action | AU | choose your own adventure

Date: 2017-11-19 02:35 pm (UTC)
acounterpoint: ({ 002)
From: [personal profile] acounterpoint
"Maker's breath."

The entire page is ruined and Aveline doesn't have the energy or patience ― if she's honest, it's the patience part that's destroying her at the moment ― to write up an entirely new one. Writing letters to people isn't her style; it's Varric's. At this point, she would love nothing more than to be able to give this job to him. But it's for the Guard Captain and that means her.

Aveline huffs out an angry breath, balling up the paper with little regard for how much ink she's going to get on her armor or how much scrubbing she'll have to do later to get it out. At least not until she's pitched the offending ball into a corner and realized there is a smudge on her gauntlet. Fortunately, a distraction in the shape of trouble walks in at that moment and Aveline gratefully turns her attention to Hawke.

"I need to scrub this patch of ink off, but after that I'm going on patrol. Could use a hand, if you've got one to spare."

In other words, Aveline would love company and a distraction. Help a girl out, Hawke.

Date: 2017-12-24 01:16 am (UTC)
acounterpoint: ({ 002)
From: [personal profile] acounterpoint
Hawke has always been one who will have Aveline's back when it matters and someone whose back Aveline will have in turn. Part of that is telling the other when they think they're being stupid. At this point, Hawke should think Aveline is sicker than a dog if she stops telling Hawke exactly what she thinks. Aveline doesn't exactly have much of a filter over her mouth.

Pushing herself gratefully to her feet, she leads the way outside where she can grab a bucket of water and start scrubbing her armor. Even if it is in the barracks.

"I always swore I would never be the letter-writer that Varric is, but suddenly someone's dropped this request from the Viscount in my lap telling me I have to be 'polite.'"

Aveline shoots Hawke a look that clearly says how much she dislikes having to smooth her words. She expects some sort of crack about that to make her feel better.

Date: 2018-01-16 12:21 am (UTC)
acounterpoint: ({ 015)
From: [personal profile] acounterpoint
Aveline huffs out a disbelieving snort at that as she starts to work on her armor. At least it’s just a small spot on her gauntlet and not a huge blemish on her breastplate or something. Small mercies. Maker’s breath.

“You refuse to indulge in politeness because Kirkwall’s brand of polite is the same as the Orlesians’,” Aveline points out, scrubbing with all of her strength, as though the spot is responsible for all of her current troubles. “Mostly because Kirkwall has a bunch of Orlesians.”

Some of them can be tolerable; Aveline will give them that. Most are terrible and they give her a headache on the daily.

“And also because you can’t keep your jokes to yourself.” Or her bad puns or her sass or anything else. Which is partly why Aveline sticks around her. Hawke does make a good counterpoint for Aveline’s gruffness. But even beyond that, they’ve made an inseparable friendship and Aveline won’t easily let that go.

Another laugh follows Hawke’s suggestion and Aveline feels a good deal of her tension wash out of her. Leave it to Hawke to help her ginger-haired friend relax, even while working.

“How about we go punch some sense into them instead?” she suggests wryly, despite knowing that won’t happen at all. It would be nice if they could.

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