#dramiel

Varric was doing his usual writing and humming over trying to figure out the correct words to say for his next story, as he adjusted the firewood in the fire that he often stood by in Haven. There was the sudden nagging feeling one gets, like being watched, that drew his attention to across the fire. The other dwarf, the Herald, was looking at him again, so he returned the stare.

The dwarf knew he had seen her from somewhere, he just knew it, but where? He just couldn’t place it. He played her face over and over in different times he’s ran into smugglers, and the such, well the ones that didn’t end up dead. 

“Shit.” he remembered now, it was fuzzy because it was a night of is drunken stupidity, but it was there, “Now I remember where I saw you before.” he sighed feeling rather embarrassed about the situation. How could he possibly forget that long night of Wicked Grace, and competitive sex.

Tenho andado a pensar. A tentar meter em perspectiva aqueles pensamentos que nos vão ocorrendo, mas vamos tentando que não brotem. Deixá-los entrar e dar-lhes algum matuto. Pois bem, não sendo novidade para ninguém, eu matuto muito sobre relações, e é aí que quero chegar. Quando é que é correcto querer avançar mais com um “nós”, ou até, quando é que é correcto perguntar a alguém se querem entrar num “nós”? Quando é que podemos achar que o “estamos a conhecer-nos” já não define bem o que queres tirar dali? E quando é que é correcto achar que já não estamos numa fase experimental e que, talvez, já não seja correcto deixar que terceiros entrem em jogo? Bem sei, sou deveras precipitado, e também sei que as coisas levam o seu tempo, e tempo é amigo de boas decisões. Mas cá para mim, tempo é algo que vamos largando até um dia percebermos que já largámos muito tempo, tempo esse que não se perdeu, mas também não se transformou.

I was out looking for trouble, when one of The Milk Men, a milk delivery service corporation based in a backwater low sec pocket, and whose services I had been interrupting for a while, spoke out in the public local communication channel:

Zen RaKis > all kidding aside, that is indeed a sexy moustache

He was right, and boosted by this statement of the obvious, I felt rather invincible. I jumped into their headquarter system with my cursed Jaguar (those Jaguars dies on me all the time) looking for a treat of calsium. When browsing the results of my 360 degrees scan of the central parts of the system, I almost jumped out of my pod when I got to the bottom result: An Abaddon Armageddon (see end note 3). In a system filled with fresh recruits! I narrow him down to a single belt, and sure thing: Here we have a bottleship serving the local Serpentis population milk and cookies! I warp in to get some too. I land almost right on top of him and start pounding him with projectiles and a few rockets on the side. Drev Olacar > I am screwed lol Well, I doubt it, because there is a lot of fellow Milk Men in system, and I know it is only a matter of time before they show up. His armor is however slowly withering away. Then, as I suspected, a Hurricane, a Myrmidon and a Caracal shows up on my scanner result. Oh well, I will keep on firing until they arrive: This guy deserves a lesson. And that Noble Exchange store needs to build up demand for new underwear! But they don’t show up! I keep ripping off his armor plates and no backup shows up on my overview! Hell, I even get into his structure! What is taking them so long? Is there a Serpentis Baron demanding huge amounts of milk delivered? As the following conversation shows: He was indeed in need of new underwear as he kept giving his saviours the wrong location because he was too busy trying to save his new trousers and boots from his rather unpleasant accident. I was so close to killing a battleship all by myself, so I decided to let my Jaguar be sacrificed to the Assault Ship Gods in a last effort to get the kill. With my guns overheated I exploded as the backup finally landed in the correct belt and sent my Jaguar to join my other Jaguars in Assault Ship Heaven.

Saftsuze > oh my god - that was sooo worth it Saftsuze > THIS close to soloing a battleship :p guzmancho > nice bro Zen RaKis > lol get your sexy moustache out of here :P guzmancho > i love his mustache =P guzmancho > hes a cool pirate =P Zen RaKis > it is truly a thing of beauty Saftsuze > Drev Olacar - need new underpants? Too bad the Noble Exchange aint got any yet! White Bear Maricadie > lol guzmancho > ripped =P Saftsuze > :D Zen RaKis > damn it now he is all skully, skully scares me o_O Drev Olacar > hehe I was so out of my league : ) Saftsuze > You will learn, kid. We have all been there :) Drev Olacar > you got my adrenaline up that is for sure : ) Zen RaKis > hey at least he wasn't trying to tank a pvp Rifter in a Retriever Zen RaKis > that doesn't work in case you were wondering o_O guzmancho > lol Drev Olacar > nope I leave that to you Zen : ) Saftsuze > Isnt it a beauty? The adrenaline?! I have it too :D guzmancho > :) Drev Olacar > having a post coital cigarette now : ) White Bear Maricadie > lol Saftsuze > Man, I love you Milk Men, you provide vitamins for us pirates with scurvy :) guzmancho > =P guzmancho > we also privde the guns and ammo and ships =P Saftsuze > But guys, you shouldve let me finish off that battleship. It wouldve been my pride kill of all times andDrev Olacar wouldve learned a lesson! guzmancho > that you use against us >< :D Saftsuze > The EVE economy in a nutshell :D guzmancho > he has not to give wrong belt liek 4 times =P Saftsuze > I was wondering why you guys took so long _ LOL guzmancho > hehe White Bear Maricadie > 1 more wrong belt and you would of had him