that isn't what hawks do

maybe it is a good thing that the girl did not know about the devils of drink.

"stay golden."

she blinks. what she’s talking about sounds like mana.

"so you’re a mage? are your powers sealed off too?" with any luck, she’ll find [i]someone[/i] in this place who would know how to get the restriction off.

"But I know I haven’t been able to fly since stepping into this town," she added. "It is very slow, having to walk everywhere. That is why I am looking for help."

To be honest, the woman’s sudden outburst surprised her. Deals in the jianghu could be tricky—she knew that much, after being the unfortunate victim in a few betray-and-backstab scenarios. A little caution and sacrifice seemed prudent.

"You will not die from the poison," Xiaolongnü reassured her. "There is not nearly enough in these needles—and besides, I have the antidote."

"And as for the reward—well, if I knew where my tomb was, you could have all the treasures inside. There’s an entire room, and I don’t need them." She tapped her lip thoughtfully. "Hmm…I don’t think I’ll ever need any gold, besides to ‘buy food’ and ‘hire services.’"

An idea popped into her head.

"Oh, I know. If I find any jewels and treasure, I’ll just give them all to you! Would that work?"

Ah, perhaps she should sacrifice something of herself too, in return?

it's all very complicated, even for hawke. she didn't like complicated.

hawke shrugs. “get my powers back and build up some more wealth until they decide to zap us back, i suppose”. kirkwall isn’t really in any danger until orsino and meredith decide to go at their spat again. in the meantime, actuality didn’t look so bad.

(how many tears have you held in?)

"oooh, are we sharing bad days?" hawke’s eyes start looking into the distance as she recounts the countless number of days that varric’s business rivals have tried to send the carta after her. and that one time she was sent into the fade to fight some really pissy demons. or the time she walked into a cave to confront some slavers and ended up fighting her way through twenty giant spiders.  

except this kid’s voice was so unkind to the eardrums. grating, really. she doesn’t think that she wants to hear any more of his complaints.

"don’t worry. as long as i’m attractive to people at the age of consent or above, i think i’m good." not that she was ever interested, but hawke was also not interested in going to jail.

it then occurs to hawke that she may not even know what some of those are if she didn’t even know what money was.

"sure. but you know what? you should hire me, since i actually like being paid. i’ve done a lot of things for gold. i’ve wiped out caves of giant spiders…saved a girl’s brother from a desire demon…helped a man cheat on his wife—" oops, that’s not very good pr, is it. “—so yeah! as long as the price is right, i’m pretty much game.” she gives the woman her best attempt at a trustworthy smile.

"I do not do very well with fire," she explained. "My cultivation requires an icy environment. And wine—my Master told me I shouldn’t drink any because it will imbalance the internal energies."

She decided not to comment on the chairs. If people wanted to sit on other people’s arms, then that was their business. She only hoped the limbs were still attached to their owners.

"It is good that you like being paid," Xiaolongnü continued. "I have heard that joy makes the work lighter."

"But I have also heard that too much joy makes one forget about work."

She plucked a single needle out of the five, and held it between the thumb and index finger of her other hand, gazing at the woman’s neck contemplatively.

"Very well. I will prick one of your pressure points with this needle. The pain from the poison should be sufficient motivation."

Her eyes brightened.

maybe it is a good thing that the girl did not know about the devils of drink.

"stay golden."

she blinks. what she's talking about sounds like mana.

"so you're a mage? are your powers sealed off too?" with any luck, she'll find [i]someone[/i] in this place who would know how to get the restriction off.

hawke rolls her eyes.

"not with that kind of attitude, you won’t."

she can only imagine how ruffled fenris would be if he had run into merril instead.

hawke shrugs. "get my powers back and build up some more wealth until they decide to zap us back, i suppose". kirkwall isn't really in any danger until orsino and meredith decide to go at their spat again. in the meantime, actuality didn't look so bad.

Reality jumping—an experience he’s all to accustomed to. Time upon time, he would be helped captive in a world unknown to him. Be it the world of the colonists’ or a realm distant from his own, certainty in his circumstances was not a luxury he would be provided—not now, not ever. That could be accredited to the Apple of Eden, Juno or honestly, his lack of luck.

The fisherman had seemed amiable enough—something he could appreciate despite his succinct and lacking in expression his own responses are.

However, upon reaching civilization, he is met with hostility—hostility that isn’t exactly foreign to him.

He hates being ordered around, commanded without any sort of context. Regardless, he would accept it—for the sake of whatever marginalized peoples resided in this city. He ventures through the slums, hood hanging over his visage. A teenage boy struggles from afar—confronted by a man, much larger, much stockier than himself. Grasping the man by the wrist, Connor would loom over him, wordless.

His intentions are evident.

However, he finds that they have company. Stoically, his gaze meets that of the strangers, and he would firmly state a single word:

it occurs to her that if the locals complained about the lone ferelden in their midst, there's not much that she can back up her presence in the way of power or affluence. or even allies. hawke started from the bottom. now she's lower than the bottom.

that ought to change, and fast.

a commotion gathers a few paces ahead of her, so of course her first instinct is to play with fire. maybe fan it a little, if she needs to.

oooh, are they going to fight? marian walks right in as if she hadn't spent most of her life as a squishy mage in the ugliest robes in all of ferelden. she observes for awhile before pointing out:

hawke listens and realizes that the woman is dead serious about not knowing about the wonders of money.

"gold can buy many foods."

(explain how)

Of course, that was all in the past now, but if she could find her way back there with Guo’er, she’d do it in a heartbeat. She then listened patiently as the woman proceeded to launch into an explanation of how gold worked in the real world.

it then occurs to hawke that she may not even know what some of those are if she didn't even know what money was.

"sure. but you know what? you should hire me, since i actually like being paid. i've done a lot of things for gold. i've wiped out caves of giant spiders...saved a girl's brother from a desire demon...helped a man cheat on his wife--" oops, that's not very good pr, is it. "--so yeah! as long as the price is right, i'm pretty much game." she gives the woman her best attempt at a trustworthy smile.

Xiaolongnü hadn’t seen many towns before, but the people of this one seemed particularly strange. They came in all sorts of shapes and sizes—and even colors. 

She rather thought they must have been suffering from some sort of disease, because hair color like that had to be unnatural, especially when it stuck up at such odd angles. An imbalance in the internal energies, perhaps? That would explain why some of them wore such uncomfortable, stiff-looking clothing. They’d need the extra armor to protect their insides if they were in such a sorry state.

Then there were a few who went to the other extreme, and seemed to have ran out of the house that day without putting on all of their clothes. 

A fair amount of them, she noted, had colored sashes like herself. She wasn’t sure what to do with hers—the person who had given her one suggested she tie it on her arm, but that was ridiculous. She couldn’t possibly fight properly with it there.

For now she held the fabric in her hands, twisting and tying it in knots. It was of good make—sturdy and well-cut despite its frivolous color. The fisherman had said something about being ‘conscripted’ or not, hadn’t he?

Conscription and war. And now, something about capturing ‘traitors’ as well. Aside from its people and its rulers, it seemed that society had changed little since her twelve years of isolation.

she plops down next to the woman, mostly because there was nobody else nearby to talk to. how bad could she possibly be?

"…my tomb," Xiaolongnü replied. "There were never so many people. Nor all this commotion over material goods. It was much more…quiet." 

She tilted her head, listening to the rabble of the crowd, focusing on excited murmurs over promises of treasure, dungeons, and rewards for capture, and frowned slightly.

"I just don’t understand what they’re all excited about." Xiaolongnü admitted. "It’s not like you can eat gold. Or jewels."

hawke listens and realizes that the woman is dead serious about not knowing about the wonders of money.

"gold can buy many foods."

(explain how)

(“you let bethany die!”)

really, she could have been asking him the same thing last week. running about with a maleficarum - hawke could never tell if he was there to protect her or stab her in the back if she falls. maybe this is what a circle mage feels like, sans all the delicious cheese.

His brow furrows at her admission. He hadn’t asked after her family, now had he? The imparting of such personal information left him at a loss for words. She sure was an open book, flaunting the inked pages of her lifestory. It must have had to do with her claim to Champion-hood. 

"I don’t have friends," he states plainly. "Which is why I find your assertions all the more suspicious." The least she could do is see things from his perspective. Anyone would be skeptical at the wild claims she insisted on making.

Her feelings on the matter aren’t exactly his responsibility either, as he knows far less. 

hawke rolls her eyes.

"not with that kind of attitude, you won't."

she can only imagine how ruffled fenris would be if he had run into merril instead.

(now that carver is her height, assualting her seemed a little too…serious. not to mention downright suicidal.)

the kick still hurt like a bitch, but at least hawke isn’t’ about to throw up her nonexistent lunch. hmmm, lunch sounds really good right about now.

"oooh, are we sharing bad days?" hawke's eyes start looking into the distance as she recounts the countless number of days that varric's business rivals have tried to send the carta after her. and that one time she was sent into the fade to fight some really pissy demons. or the time she walked into a cave to confront some slavers and ended up fighting her way through twenty giant spiders.  

except this kid's voice was so unkind to the eardrums. grating, really. she doesn't think that she wants to hear any more of his complaints.

"don't worry. as long as i'm attractive to people at the age of consent or above, i think i'm good." not that she was ever interested, but hawke was also not interested in going to jail.

Xiaolongnü hadn’t seen many towns before, but the people of this one seemed particularly strange. They came in all sorts of shapes and sizes—and even colors. 

She rather thought they must have been suffering from some sort of disease, because hair color like that had to be unnatural, especially when it stuck up at such odd angles. An imbalance in the internal energies, perhaps? That would explain why some of them wore such uncomfortable, stiff-looking clothing. They’d need the extra armor to protect their insides if they were in such a sorry state.

Then there were a few who went to the other extreme, and seemed to have ran out of the house that day without putting on all of their clothes. 

A fair amount of them, she noted, had colored sashes like herself. She wasn’t sure what to do with hers—the person who had given her one suggested she tie it on her arm, but that was ridiculous. She couldn’t possibly fight properly with it there.

For now she held the fabric in her hands, twisting and tying it in knots. It was of good make—sturdy and well-cut despite its frivolous color. The fisherman had said something about being ‘conscripted’ or not, hadn’t he?

Conscription and war. And now, something about capturing ‘traitors’ as well. Aside from its people and its rulers, it seemed that society had changed little since her twelve years of isolation.

she plops down next to the woman, mostly because there was nobody else nearby to talk to. how bad could she possibly be?

    “What’s all this crap for? I don’t wanna be here, I have to get home to the Young Master!” The Fishman frowned, looking over the new scenery and at the colorful sash adorning his slender arm. The tied ends fluttered in a passing breeze. Attempting to capsize the boat the fisherman took him here in earlier was futile, his strength seeming to have vanished in a heartbeat as soon as his eyes opened. What pride could he have in this body if his beloved and feared power was nowhere to be found?

     Whining, Dellinger stomped a foot against the stone pathway as he slumped against a building, his high heel clacking on the smooth surface. The disappointment that washed over him when the stone didn’t break hurt worse than these heels did when he was first breaking them in. Troublesome. So very troublesome. He threw his head back and groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose between two well-manicured fingers. Namely the thumb and the pointer.

     ”Kyaaaa, this sucks! When I find who did this and who made me weak, I’m gonna make them wish they were never born! Then… Then I’ll do it again so they’ll wish they were never born twice over!” Dellinger huffed, swiping a blind punch in the air and storming off down the side of the nearest canal, muttering to himself in a fury. “Stupid fisherman piece of shit taking me here and kidnapping me… Young Master’s gonna be pissed and I’m getting demoted…”

Nobles, merchants, and travelers alike scoffed or avoided Dellinger entirely, the fishman not caring for their judgement on his temper tantrum. One of the people in the crowd had the misfortune of bumping shoulders with him, Dellinger whipping around and sending a kick at their stomach. Without his fishman strength, it wouldn’t be at it’s usual ‘stone crushing’ ferocity, but he didn’t call this one the ‘high heel pistol’ for nothing.

(now that carver is her height, assualting her seemed a little too...serious. not to mention downright suicidal.)

the kick still hurt like a bitch, but at least hawke isn't' about to throw up her nonexistent lunch. hmmm, lunch sounds really good right about now.