InsaneJournal

To say that Isabela had a lot of emotions after what had transpired with Lara on the yacht was an understatement. So, she was doing what she could to bury them and forget about them. Which meant meaningless sex and booze. Risa was a very enticing planet, she had to say. She’d taken advantage of those rave parties, which she hadn’t known what they were, but the word ‘party’ was in it and that was enough for her. And, of course, the adult entertainment was something she’d made use of.

In fact, Isabela had made use of the adult entertainment a bit earlier. Now, she had a couple bottles of some type of hard liquor (one bottle was empty and she was in the process of drinking the second bottle), and was sunbathing at Suraya Bay. She was stretched out, bottle in one hand, and trying to forget everything. She was happily drunk, a little smirk on her face as some scenes from earlier replayed in her mind.

Anything to keep herself from focusing on Lara.

“Well well, Rivaini, fancy meeting you here.” Varric was wearing a pair of what were called ‘swimming trunks’. They were red with some kind of flower on them. He was shirtless, his chest hair gloriously displayed. He also wore a pair of shades, and had a beautiful woman on either arm. One was green from head to toe, and the other blue.

Isabela had attained a bikini that was incredibly scandalous to wear and was clad in that for once. Opening her eyes, she looked over at Varric. “Oh Varric, your chest hair,” she purred. “I see you’ve found yourself a couple women to run their fingers through it.” She grinned, head pleasantly swimming currently. Of course, the grin was masking her inner turmoil.

There was something fundamentally wrong with Isabela and Varric saw right through it. He gave his ladies his room number and a time then took a seat next to his friend. “In a nice haze, I see.”

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be? I just got laid, and I’ve got this amazing alcohol here. No idea what it is, but it’s wonderful.” And undoubtedly rather strong, and yet one bottle was empty and she was probably halfway through the one in her hand. “What about you? Enjoying yourself on this brilliant planet? I would love to just stay here. I like this planet. I like it a lot.”

“Figured you’d love it. Too bad you can’t stay, right?” He knew Isabela would lose herself on this world, and never come up for breath. Part of him agreed with her on this idea.

“What happened to being able to hold your liquor? Tell me you’ve had more than 1 drink.”

“Definitely. I don’t want to get back on that death trap of a ship.” It wreaked havoc on her claustrophobia if she didn’t keep herself occupied enough to not think about being trapped inside something she couldn’t get out of.

“Of course I’ve had more than one drink, Varric!” Isabela defended herself. “This is my second bottle of this stuff. The first is...discarded around here somewhere. It’s of no use to me if it’s empty.” And speaking of, she took a swig from her current bottle.

“Second bottle.” Varric snatched the bottle away from her, and took a swig. It was strong stuff, which was actually pretty impressive. He gave her a sly look. “Sure you aren’t actually a dwarf, Rivaini? You can hold your ale like one.”

He waved it, as if daring her to try to snatch it back. “Any other reasons you don’t want to go back?”

“Hey! That’s mine!” She complained when Varric took the bottle away from her. “Who knows, maybe I am. Never met my father, so he could’ve been a dwarf.” Isabela sat up and attempted to swipe her bottle back. She wasn’t exactly the most coordinated currently, however, and she didn’t quite manage to grab it.

“Why should I want to leave my ideal planet? Really Varric, what kind of question is that?” Isabela sounded offended, though she really wasn’t. She was just not wanting to think too deeply about her actual answer to that question.

“You’re too tall for a dwarf, and filled out in all the wrong places,” Varric teased. “I don’t see how you’re going to enjoy it at the bottom of a bottle. I’d have thought you’d want to experience it au natural.”

“What, too much ass and tits for a dwarf?” She retorted. “I’ve done it au natural thus far. Had quite a lovely encounter earlier. Right now, I’m enjoying the experience of getting drunk on this fabulous alcohol and getting some sun.” Not that she needed to get tan considering her darker skin color.

“Not enough,” Varric quipped. He eyed her, then offered the bottle back. “Sure you don’t want to talk about it? Conquest go wrong? Get rejected by someone, as impossible as that sounds?”

She practically snatched the bottle back, taking a drink from it as she settled herself back on the chair she was reclined on. “There’s nothing to talk about.” Which was a lie. There was a lot to talk about, but Isabela refused to admit certain things, and even if she admitted them what was there to do about them?

Nothing, in her opinion. Lara deserved better. Much better. Like that Sam of hers, if she could just let herself talk to Sam about how she felt.

“Rivaini,” Varric said, in that sort of tone he might have used with Hawke when Hawke was being particularly stubborn about something, or anything. He gave her the same kind of look he would have given Hawke too. “If there was nothing to talk about, you wouldn’t be as defensive as Aveline.”

Isabela rolled her eyes. “Please, if I was as defensive as Aveline, I’d be using that big shield of hers to bat you away. As you can see, I’m perfectly content to just lie here.” That was a very unintended pun on Isabela’s part, which hit her funny bone and she started laughing about it. She was definitely drunk.

“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here arguing semantics with me.” Varric took a seat, leaning back and steepling his fingers. “All right. I guess I’ll just hang around here, order a few drinks. Make you stare at my rich tracts of chest hair.”

“Now that’s more like it! Everyone should admire your chest hair, it is quite glorious.” Isabela was going to avoid the topic of Lara as much as possible. In fact, she preferred to avoid it altogether. She took another drink from her bottle and settled on her chair again. “I’m thinking of hitting up one of those rave parties again tonight. Do you want to join me or are you going to be busy with your lovely women?”

“I could always invite them along,” Varric mused. “Anyone you want to invite? Like that Croft girl you’ve been trying to get into the pants of. Might just need that little last push.”

“She doesn’t do parties, so no. I’ll just pick someone up there.” Lara didn’t really do people either, and, well, she was trying to forget all about that. Of course, when one was drunk, it was next to impossible to hide things. Isabela looked a bit sad before she down the rest of the bottle.

Varric studied her for a moment, before asking her far too casually. “How did the boat thing go?”

“It went fine. Not the kind of boat I’m used to, but it was good to be on the water again. I just wanted to sail off into that horizon and never look back.” Now Isabela was sad over not being on a ship. Apparently she was emotional today. “Bollocks, I miss sailing. I don’t belong on dry land. Or on a spaceship.”

“Don’t cry, Rivaini, you’ll get my chest hair all wet.” Still, that didn’t stop him from getting up and sitting next to her. “They’re trying to find a way back. It might be nice to see Hawke again.”

If ever there was a human he could fall for, it would have been her. But she’d only really had eyes for disaster mages and fist-elf and occasionally pirate women. Not that he’d ever let on. Ever. In a million years.

“At least you’re in good standing with Hawke. I’m pretty certain she wants to kick my ass for the whole Qunari thing.” Isabela sighed heavily. “I just ruin everything. So maybe just finding a way to stay on this planet would be for the best. No friendships to screw up if I just stay here and fuck and party for the rest of my life.”

“Nah. She welcomes you back with open arms. Okay, maybe a little fireball. But mostly open arms.” Varric patted her back. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. Never have. Don’t think you ever will. But how can you know what you’ll accomplish if you just drown your sorrows.”

“I don’t deserve it. And really, I like drowning my sorrows. It’s more fun this way.” Speaking of which, she needed another drink. “I need another bottle.” Isabela preferred being drunk right now. It was far better than being sober and dealing with this crap.

“I’ll get you another bottle, but you have to do something for me first,” Varric said. Because he was secretly a very evil dwarf.

“If it has anything even remotely to do with Lara, the answer is no,” Isabela retorted. She wasn’t going to do anything in that regard if she could help it. And if that was the case, then she’d just get up and go take a nap before going to the rave party.

“I wasn’t going to mention her name, but since you did…” Varric shifted the way he was sitting. “Why did you bring her up?”

She sighed heavily. “Just nevermind. It’s not important.” Except it probably was, but Isabela was going to downplay the shit out of it so she could get back to enjoying herself as quickly as possible.

“If it wasn’t important, saying her name would have been easier. Rivaini, I’m a writer. You’ve got all the hallmarks of a character hung up on someone else and trying to hide it in booze and booty.”

Isabela sighed heavily again. “I’m not a character is your stories, Varric. So don’t analyze me like one.” She refused to spit it out, or even to give voice to what she felt. It’d only make things worse and more painful than they needed to be.

She was being stubborn, and Varric could tell he was rapidly approaching a point where he’d be pushing too hard. So he got up, and pretended to brush himself off as he did so. “Well, you’ll know where to find me, Rivaini. When you’re a little more sober.”

Varric was correct, she was almost to the point of walking off if he pressed much harder. “Yeah, thanks Varric. Perhaps I’ll take a nap before going to the rave.” Isabela managed to get to her feet, swaying a little bit once she was upright.

He watched her for a moment, then shrugged. If that was what she wanted, who was he to tell her otherwise? “I’ll see you at the rave, Rivaini.”

“See you there, Varric,” she responded. Isabela squared her shoulders as best as she could and headed off to her room. At least if she was unconscious, she wouldn’t have to think or reflect on anything for a little while.