Just A Bisexual Disaster That Loves Bioware Games

“I do have a washing machine in-unit, you know,” Neve offered.  She wasn’t in the habit of letting people use her appliances; then again, she wasn’t in the habit of inviting people up to her apartment either. But, so worried about her comfort he’d resigned himself to standing by her door awkwardly for an indeterminate length of time, Rook could probably be trusted to respect her space while his clothes got cleaned.

And, if he couldn’t, she could always freeze him solid. 

Rook’s eyebrows shot up to near his hairline.  “I mean, that would be great.  If you’re sure.  I don’t…”

She rolled her eyes.  “Unless you’re about to tell me you don’t wear underwear on a job, you’re fine.”

"Are you up here brooding?"

"Oh, he's definitely brooding. Have the wrinkles in his forehead gotten worse?"

Lucanis turned just in time to see Neve level a look at Davrin, her lips pursed in disapproval, though amusement twitched at the corners. For the warden's part, Davrin looked unmoved by the silent admonishment, though Lucanis failed to miss the subtle way Neve squeeze his bicep. Hm.

Neve caught his eye and dropped her hand. To Davrin, she said, "Why don't you see if you can find Rook? Bellara went after her ages ago."

"'Went after'?" Lucanis asked, feeling something sharp against his ribcage. He was reasonably certain it was entirely internal, less certain it was not still mortally wounding.

"Don't worry," Davrin said as he began to back out of the room, a wicked gleam in his eye. "We're pretty sure she's still on the grounds."

He was gone before Lucanis could respond.

Neve looked at him apologetically. "Poor choice of words on my part." Her mouth twisted wryly. "Not the first time, unlikely to be the last."

"Rook, she—"

"Went to run an errand. Or so she said when she flew past us."

He could feel Neve's eye on him, assessing, as she raised her hands in a calming gesture—like he was a spooked animal. He hadn't realized he—or Spite—or the pair of them both—had made several rushed steps toward the door until coffee sloshed over the rim of his cup washing over his hand, the tepid liquid staining the creamy linen of his cuff.

Swearing, he stopped and held it away from him lest he create a bigger mess than he already had. Neve swooped in, taking the cup from him and setting it on a nearby table, before handing him a handkerchief from her sleeve. He took it from her with murmured gratitude and dried his hand, twisting the delicate material anxiously between his fingers.

"Lucanis," Neve said, drawing his attention, expression understanding. "She'll be back."

The words didn't quite permeate the terror though he nodded to show he'd at least heard them. Raising the ruined handkerchief, he winced. "I'll replace it."

The detective snorted. "I know you're good for it."

“I do have a washing machine in-unit, you know,” Neve offered.  She wasn’t in the habit of letting people use her appliances; then again, she wasn’t in the habit of inviting people up to her apartment either. But, so worried about her comfort he’d resigned himself to standing by her door awkwardly for an indeterminate length of time, Rook could probably be trusted to respect her space while his clothes got cleaned.

And, if he couldn’t, she could always freeze him solid. 

Rook’s eyebrows shot up to near his hairline.  “I mean, that would be great.  If you’re sure.  I don’t…”

She rolled her eyes.  “Unless you’re about to tell me you don’t wear underwear on a job, you’re fine.”

@davrinsleftpectoral @woundedsoul12 @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @chaosherald @jenn2d2 @hedwigoprah @sorcerousadventurer @zennihilation @serialsforbellara @mushrooms-x-moss @jukkaricity @himluv @biowaredisasterbisexual @mageofquandrix @littlemissgeek8 @kogarashi-art @himluv @serensama @necromanticsoul @pixiedurango @maagisterpavus @angelsndragons @wolfmoonwildflowers @curiouswisp @picathartidae @rooks-dagger @notyourmamasdeerbat @thatgaymerguyb @handsignals @julie-spirit-finn @the-archons-moustache @dudewheresmynug @tevivinter @lycheecatee @viagosbrother @mikilavellan

2. That time they got roped into a teiago dispute

3. When bad jokes attack

4. On Selora's less-than-stellar cleaning routine

BONUS SHIT TEXTS:

Behind him, Lucanis heard the faintest clearing of a throat. He turned to see their porters looking to him for instructions. "Which room would you prefer?" he asked Emmrich, who looked at him in surprise.

"Which room? Oh, I see! We have our choice, how marvelous!"

He moved to the tall set of double doors on the right and flung them open, revealing a lavish sleeping chamber decorated in shades of blue. He gave an audible gasp of delight, which made Lucanis chuckle.

"Here, let's have a look at the other." Lucanis opened an identical set of doors that led to the chamber on the left. "This one is done in gold," he said. "But rather restrained, at least for Orlais."

Emmrich swept across the room and into the second bedchamber. Lucanis could hear him exclaiming to himself as he opened drawers and parted the curtains to look at the view. After a moment, Lucanis smiled and turned to the porter.

"Put the larger bag in that room," he said, handing the man a couple of coins. "The smaller can go in the blue."

"Oui, monsieur."

By the time Emmrich emerged from his room, a bottle of chilled wine and two glasses had been delivered and were waiting on the low table in the sitting area.

"Feeling refreshed after our arduous journey?" Lucanis said, his tone low and teasing.

"Oh, very much so! I always find it so delightful to splash a bit of water on my face and pass a comb through my hair after I've been traveling."

Lucanis laughed. "I think it took longer to get out of the Grand Cathedral than it took for our carriage to get to the hotel. It cannot be more than an hour since we left Minrathous."

"You're teasing me again," Emmrich said, taking the seat opposite Lucanis. He didn't sound annoyed by it — quite the opposite, in fact. "It was surely enough time to allow a few hairs to get out of place. Ninety minutes, at least."

"At least," Lucanis agreed with a smile. He gestured toward the bottle on the table. "This is a local white wine. It comes highly recommended. Shall we see how we like it?"

He leaned forward to pour them each a glass. "A very nice color," he said, holding it up to the light. "So pale. Almost green."

"Yes, exactly!" Emmrich enthused. "Just a blush of spring green, and such a beautiful note of citrus in the nose."

Smells like. Lemon rind. And horses.

"Not horses precisely, Spite." Emmrich did not bat an eyelash at the interjection; he seemed to enjoy Spite's comments on each new wine even more than Lucanis's. "More like fresh hay, or straw perhaps."

He pulled out the little notebook he'd been using to record all of their tasting notes and scribbled down Spite's observations. Lucanis had asked to look at it while they were still in Antiva and had been amused to see that Emmrich had special annotations for each of the three of them; Emmrich's were unadorned, his own were prefaced with a circle, and Spite's with a triangle.

"It's very good," he said after his first sip. "Light. I don't think this grape grows well further north."

"No, it's a bit of a specialty of the Heartlands region, or so I'm given to understand," Emmrich said, sighing happily at his glass. "I'm terribly excited about what the next couple of weeks will bring. There are so many little family-owned vineyards and smallholdings in the countryside north of the city. I scarcely know how we're going to fit them all in!"

"We cannot possibly visit them all, Emmrich. But we will do our best."

"Yes, I've been strategic in planning our lodgings," Emmrich said. "We'll be moving quite frequently, staying at small châteaux with good central locations. We can treat each one as a home base and strike out in multiple directions on any given day."

"You sound like you are planning an assault on the region instead of a pleasure trip."

"One does develop certain logistical skills, as an academic," Emmrich bristled.

"It was intended as a compliment," Lucanis said with a sly grin.