‘ THAT… SOUNDS TERRIBLY messy, which isn’t necessarily bad,       but perhaps… inconvenient? Might tickle a little? – Is that where the fun comes in? ‘

“The fun comes in with what comes after, pet.” 

“That’s… the same thing. But I’m not doing it. I’ve not even finished my first drink yet.”

“Finish your first. Then the cure for an empty glass is a little flirtation.” 

  ‘ IS IT THAT bad? Hawke is hardly my Keeper, you know.      I can decide for myself what I will and will not do. ‘

“I wouldn’t call it bad, but would you enjoy men drinking beer out of your belly button?” 

  ‘ OH. UHM… WOULD you like to show me, then? ‘

“...This sounds like something that needs the Hawke seal of approval.”

  ‘ OH, NO, THAT’S alright. I would hardly be around Hawke      if I was afraid of that, would I? I’m just not very good with arrows, is all… or daggers? ‘

“Kitten.                             ......That’s not what I mean.” 

  ‘ DO I REALLY answer that?       I’m mostly worried about any unwelcome arrowheads the name suggests. ‘

“Have I ever been known to advocate bodily harm?                                                                                  ...Apart from that one time.”

“You’re paying me to … grab a copper out of your shirt?”

“No, I’m... betting I could make you publicly adventurous. Keep up, Hawke. ”

“Not here, in the midst of the Hanged Man.”

“I bet I could change that. Three sovereigns.” 

  “I’m not – Okay, fine. Maybe I am. But I’m not about to, not here.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” 

“Well, yes, in combat. Can’t you just get it yourself?”

“Has anyone told you, you can be quite dense sometimes?”

“Uh, I – hadn’t exactly planned for such a thing to happen so….”

“Come on Hawke, you’re good at thinking on your feet.” 

 “Listen, it wasn’t my intention to get it in your shirt!”

“And now that it’s there, what do you intend to do about it?” 

  ‘ THAT STILL SOUNDS a little dangerous, Isabela… ‘

“Nonsense, have I ever lead you astray?” 

Please reblog this if you are willing to rp with someone who doesn’t format their posts?

Bethany’s eye widened a bit, both at being called nice (!) but also at hearing Isabela’s name and title. Her name suited her, beautiful and lilting. Xie’s synthesthesia turned Isabela’s name into a rush of purple on deep night, or maybe water, a shifting, climbing thing that swallowed all light except for pinpricks of light that shone all the brighter.

Xie peeked at Varric when Isabela invited them up to his room but he waved them on, telling xir to “Remember to put that blanket under the bottom of the door, Hawke.” And xie nodded, relieved that he wasn’t put out, and started to wind xie way through the crowd. Xie held xir breath as xie passed between patrons, shuddering when xie inevitably brushed against people or, at one point, was shoved nearly off xir feet am when a drunkard stumbled, but xir recovered quickly and wheeled away, feet dancing across the floorboards, and made xir way up the stairs.

Xie visibly relaxed once they were in the familiar confines of Varric’s room. With the door closed, the noise of the common room was reduced to a muffled murmuring ebb and flow of sound that xie could put out of xir mind. Xie spin around in a little half circle, hugging xir arms to xirself. “Better,” xie said, to Isabela, xirself, or directed to the empty air, xie could not say. “So much better.” Xie looked back at Isabela. “Thank you, for. Coming up with me. I don’t want to be a bother, and you’re so-” Words crowded on the edge of xir tongue, beginning and ending with nice. “You, ” xir said somewhat breathlessly. “It. Means a lot. Isabela. Captain.” Xie ducked xir head, hand coming up to hide a shy smile, but one that was genuine, for all of that, and growing. “You do. Not everyone would have come up with me, and.” Xie let out a little puff of air on a soundless laugh that held little humor and more than a bit of remembered pain. “And it was. Nice. And appreciated. Very much.”

rivainidancer

Bethany needn’t have confirmed that the upper reaches of the Hanged Man were better for xir, it was visible in the way her body seemed less tense, in the way that the very air around her seemed to release like a knot of silk coming unraveled with the touch of a gentle, knowing fingertip. Isabela didn’t need to inspect xir to know what calmness such a simple comfort brought, it was there in xir voice. A single, defined brow arched with the small hesitation -- you’re so -- Isabela in her time had heard many versions of that particular phrase, and very few were flattering. Not that she cared -- but this ne companion seemed above such things. 

And the response did earn a chuckle, and Isabela’s loose motions had her drop into a chair. The cushion atop it was plush, something she was thankful for though curious about -- from what she knew of dwarves their... everything was stone. 

Kind was not a strong enough word for Bethany, and Isabela rested her bare elbow on the stone arm of the chair, gloved fist coming to curl under her cheek as she reclined. Boots crossed, belying nothing of the worry that tugged at her mind even now -- she had been on the lookout for strong companions, trustworthy types that she could ask assistance from. Bethany had the trust part down but -- was xie too kind? You didn’t survive in Kirkwall if you were kind. But this one had -- 

“How do you come to end up in Kirkwall? You don’t look like you live in Darktown, which means you’re probably doing alright for yourself.”