Work-in-Progress....Wthursday?
Here I am, rock you like a hurricane! It'ssssss Wthursday here, and instead of the Scorpions, I bring you...an actual storm? So kind of close? [shugs] Anyway, enjoy some of the DA2 gang doing what the gang does best--stayin' aliiiiiiiiivvvveeeeee, as I type away at chapter 7 of my Handers madness.
Tagging: @softeasun @hircines-hunter @blossom-adventures @babydinosaur930 @mylosingdogs @mareenavee and @archangelsunited, no pressure, of course.
Throughout Violet’s life, there had been many times when she questioned herself. Thought about where she was going, what the purpose of it all was, if she was doing what was right. Try harder, be better, this was the constant mantra repeated under her breath, thrumming under her skin. If not her, then who? Who would it fall to then to pick up the pieces, set everything aright? And still, somehow, it was always upon her shoulders that guilt settled like a heavy mantle, blame weighing her down like an anchor until she drowned in it.
An especially apt metaphor as any if Kirkwall is to be concerned, water everywhere, and nowhere to escape from it.
Looking up at the sky, Violet cannot help but feel the irony of it as rain falls around her in sheets, grey on grey, stone walls saturated and slick as rivers run down the sides, spilling into the streets in great puddles. Water everywhere to wash things clean. Under ordinary circumstances, it would be bothersome, traipsing through the mud, dirt, and grime of Kirkwall, but all she can feel is lightened despite the fact her cloak has long since soaked through.
For the first time since she was a girl, she knows she has done something right, and there is no one to tell her otherwise.
As she casts a look behind her, she grins as Varric and Aveline reluctantly follow her through the late autumn shower down into the Docks.
“I’m glad one of us is happy about nearly drowning out here.” Varric pulls his hood down over his head further with a scowl. “And you owe me a new pair of boots.”
“The next round at the Hanged Man would be nice”
She chuckles as they descend the stairs. “Aye, aye captain.”
“The only captain I see is this one.” He snorts, pointing a thumb back towards the guard captain.
“I’m glad some of us haven’t forgotten.” Aveline retorts.
“How could we?” Varric kicks some of the water from his boots as he slips into a small alcove. “Your very presence reminds us of it with the clanking of all that armor, and speaking of reminders, Hawke,” he turns to her, “can you tell us what in Andraste’s tits we are doing out here?”
