Anders! (ex_knickerwe541) wrote in welcomethreads, @ 2013-08-16 12:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | anders, hawke / the champion |
Who: Anders and Hawke (Also open due to the Fail!Filter)
What: Hawke says they need to talk, so, they talk.
Where: The park
When: Friday Afternoon
Rating: PG-13, talk of death and very bad things.
Status: In progress
Why couldn't we all just get drunk and leave me to deal with this? Anders had genuinely enjoyed the prior night, or as much as one could enjoy being yanked through a magical portal. He'd enjoyed seeing Isabela and The Hanged Man, even if they had served as a sounding board for all the things that had, quite literally, brought him to his knees when he had arrived without Justice. The rum had probably helped, but she hadn't seemed overly interested in needling him either. It had been a nice buffer from his thoughts. His many, many, thoughts. Of the many thoughts inside Anders head, selfishly, that one was the loudest. He was keenly aware there were others, all screaming and shouting at him for what he had done, with each one trying desperately to be louder than the one that came before. They were just too loud though and Anders still couldn't even begin to sort them all out. Every time he tried he felt dizzy and sick, and every part of his body seemed to suddenly weigh a thousand times more. ...and the impending conversation he knew he was about to have, surely wasn't that making it any better. Part of Anders argued, as he hung his head while leaning against the trunk of a tree, that this was a good thing. He didn't deserve the pleasant night he'd had drinking rum with Isabela. He didn't deserve to have pleasant things waiting for him just because he'd been sucked through a magic portal. What Anders genuinely felt like he deserved was, ironically, not too dissimilar from the very thing he'd been fighting to put an end to once and for all. Which is precisely what he knew Hawke would be coming here to talk to him about. The problem was, however, that Anders knew he couldn't even begin to find the words. The events of the last ten years, since he'd bonded with Justice and fled the Keep under the cover of charred robes, were little more than a hazy blur. Anders could remember the thoughts and feelings. He could remember his actions, and his understanding of them to be the right thing to do. He could remember the feeling of Justice, bound and tied to everything that Anders was...and that was the problem. Justice was gone now. Whatever had happened when he'd come through the portal, which Anders still hadn't managed to work out, had left him with the raw and nagging hole that he could feel festering throughout the whole of himself. How was he supposed to, really, explain anything when one of the major parts of himself was, quite literally, not there anymore? Anders also knew, in light of his previous dishonesty, which he'd felt at the time to be the only right thing to do weren't going to help his case at all. No. This 'chat' was likely about to be anything but pleasant. |