Marian Hawke (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hawkeward) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_rpg2012-07-11 10:32 pm
hawkeward) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-07-11 10:32 pm
Entry tags:
◇ x; she's baaaack
[ACTION A; 1761 Beaver Street; morning]
[Hawke did not escape the carnival very easily - if you can even call falling out of the sky and breaking your neck three days in "escaping." And even though she didn't suffer through five entire days of alternate Mayfield, when she wakes up in the morning, she's as tired, thirsty, and hungry as she was before she died.
So, the first thing she does - after being enthusiastically greeted by her mabari, that is - is wander downstairs, shoo the drones away, and put on a pot of coffee. It doesn't help fight off the sleepiness, though, so she shuffles upstairs, climbs back into bed, closes her eyes...
And screams.]
[PHONE; open]
Well, that was... fun. [Yaaaaaaaawn. Boy she sure sounds tired.] I think I lost a few days after I went to visit the neighbors, however. Anyone mind telling me what happened after - what was it, our third day there? I certainly hope I didn't miss anything interesting.
Nice of them to leave me a welcome back gift, too. Finally, something interesting to re-- [Hawke cuts herself off after taking a book off the shelf and inspecting the cover.] Hard in Hightown, really? It won't put me to sleep, at least.
[As she goes to hang up the phone, you might hear her mutter to herself:] Maker, I need a drink.
[ACTION B; Olney's Tavern; evening]
[After trying nearly all day to get some sleep and failing miserably, Hawke decides to get her mind off her post-revival the best way she knows how: drinking.
She swings by the tavern in the evening, ignores any drones that may be present, and takes a seat. It's no Hanged Man, but she can't be sure if that's a good or bad thing. The smell of piss seems to be absent, at least, which is always a good sign.
Her dog is sitting on the floor beside her stool, because, well, he follows her everywhere. Cupcake seems to be behaving himself, though.]
[Hawke did not escape the carnival very easily - if you can even call falling out of the sky and breaking your neck three days in "escaping." And even though she didn't suffer through five entire days of alternate Mayfield, when she wakes up in the morning, she's as tired, thirsty, and hungry as she was before she died.
So, the first thing she does - after being enthusiastically greeted by her mabari, that is - is wander downstairs, shoo the drones away, and put on a pot of coffee. It doesn't help fight off the sleepiness, though, so she shuffles upstairs, climbs back into bed, closes her eyes...
And screams.]
[PHONE; open]
Well, that was... fun. [Yaaaaaaaawn. Boy she sure sounds tired.] I think I lost a few days after I went to visit the neighbors, however. Anyone mind telling me what happened after - what was it, our third day there? I certainly hope I didn't miss anything interesting.
Nice of them to leave me a welcome back gift, too. Finally, something interesting to re-- [Hawke cuts herself off after taking a book off the shelf and inspecting the cover.] Hard in Hightown, really? It won't put me to sleep, at least.
[As she goes to hang up the phone, you might hear her mutter to herself:] Maker, I need a drink.
[ACTION B; Olney's Tavern; evening]
[After trying nearly all day to get some sleep and failing miserably, Hawke decides to get her mind off her post-revival the best way she knows how: drinking.
She swings by the tavern in the evening, ignores any drones that may be present, and takes a seat. It's no Hanged Man, but she can't be sure if that's a good or bad thing. The smell of piss seems to be absent, at least, which is always a good sign.
Her dog is sitting on the floor beside her stool, because, well, he follows her everywhere. Cupcake seems to be behaving himself, though.]
[action!]
[Hawke blinks at him for a moment, before her choice of phrasing starts to sink in. Then she starts giggling.
Yeah, she's. Pretty drunk at this point.]
--Oh! I meant actual sleeping. [There's a pause and a thoughtful hum as she considers her options, though.] But I suppose we could do both...
[action!]
[action!]
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[action!]
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[He reaches down to curl his fingers around her chin.] ... I just don't want this to be something you'd regret. That's all. I can't bear the thought.
[action!]
[She sighs and offers him a small, reluctant smile.] Oh, very well. I can take no for an answer, believe it or not.
[action!]
... if you're sure this is what you want... then I can't say no. Not to you.
[action!]
[action!]
[action!]
[action!]
[He falls quiet, toying with her hair again. He's... not really sure what to say, now.]
[action!]
[She trails off, yawning again and shifting around to make herself comfortable. Looks like she may need to take a rain check on the fun kind of sleeping together, after all.]
[action!]
[That's all right. He'll be her pillow this time.]
[action!]
[Good mage, best pillow. ;u;] You don't mind staying for a while, do you?
[action!]
[action!]
She still tosses and turns, but she's actually getting some rest now. Anders and/or the liquor were good for something, clearly.]