bakerstreet | Baby, you’re perfect

Baby, you’re perfect

find the word.

+ top level with your person. prefs/canon info/etc.
+ other people will reply with the first word that comes to their character's mind to describe yours. it could be about their appearance (consider this an 'are they beautiful?' meme if you wanna), their personality, or the mystique that may or may not surround (they're...interesting). break out the thesaurus.
+ your person reacts.
+ thread.

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It runs in the bloodline. One is either born with it or without it. Talent surfaces usually at a young age, between seven and ten years. And one so young with that sort of power is a danger to himself and others, and not only because of the draw of the Fade.

[ Hawke holds out a hand, palm-down, and focuses on the ground beneath their feet. It slowly began to rumble, pebbles rattling with the force of the mage's powerful will. He closes his fist after a moment, and exhales a breath. The earth settles, once again becoming still. ]

Magic runs in both sides of my family. My father was a mage, as was my younger sister. My mother had no magical ability, nor did my younger brother, but any children he might have sired had a great possibility of becoming a mage.

So very much like Grisha then.

[ She feels and watches as he manipulates the earth, but different in the way a Durast would. She reaches out and takes his hand and opens it palm up. Her fingers trace along the lines she finds. ]

Grisha are the same way. It runs in the blood, but it skips without reasons. You can have two otkazat'sya parents who have a Grisha child.

[ His hand is just a hand: large, roughened, and overly warm (he runs hot due to the elemental magic in his blood), but he watches her fingers gently move over his skin, quietly curious. ]

Grisha and mages do indeed seem very similar. But what are...oty-kaza...whatever that word was that you just said?

[ No way in all hells was he ever going to be able to pronounce that one. ]

Otkazat'sya. [ She says the word slowly for him to catch on. ] Non-Grisha.

[ His hand is marvelously warm. She'd noticed it whenever he brushed his fingers along her cheek. She can feel and sense the beat of his heart. It's strong, constant. ]

[ He tries, more than once, but there's no way he can twist his tongue around to make those syllables. So Hawke gives up with a low laugh, shrugging his defeat. ]

"Non-Grisha" will have to do.

[ She's still stroking his hand, and his gaze flicks from his palm back to her eyes with a questioning look. ]

...are you all right?

[ It's concern; he understands how sharing a burden can be. The weight lifting for a few brief moments before settling back again. ]

[ Laughter rings out at his clumsy attempt. Ravkan is unkind to his tongue. She's heard other people struggle with it during her travels. The Shu and Fjerdans especially.

She glances up at him at his question. Nina offers a smile. They're kore genuine with him. She doesn't need to mask who she is and adopt another persona for a mission right now. ]

It's nice to find someone who understands when I'm so far away from home.

[ Thankfully he can still make her laugh. A good sign. Hawke turns his hand over to thread his fingers with hers, returning her smile. ]

It truly is. And I do, promise.

Nina. My name is Nina.

[ His hand dwarfs hers. She gives it a gentle squeeze. He's still so warm. She'd previously been along the edges of Fjerda. She's always hated the cold. Hawke's warmth is inviting. ]

A pleasure, Nina.

[ He pulls their linked hands close, turning hers to rest against his chest, right over the strong beat of his heart. ]

Rowen. Or, you can simply call me Hawke, if you wish. [ A grin. ] I more or less answer to both.

Rowen Hawke. A strong name for a strong man.

[ She pretends to even swoon though she cheekily winks up at him. She feels the steady thump as his heart just as much as she can heart it. ]

You've got a strong heartbeat too.

My father liked it.

[ Ferelden custom dictated that a father chose the name of his firstborn, and Malcolm had opted for rather a prophetic moniker for his son. The rowan tree was a sacred symbol of protection, strength, and a charm for good luck. While not sure about the latter, Hawke definitely embodied the two former, and it seemed his father had chosen well, in all. ]

Ferelden fathers have the honor of naming their eldest. Although he did have a hand in naming Carver, too. But Bethany was all Mother's doing.

What's it like being the eldest?

[ She's genuinely curious. Nina has no family of her own save for the Grisha. They are her brothers and sisters. Growing up with them had its own hardships and joys, but she's always wondered what it would've been like with a typical family. ]

[ Hawke rolls his eyes dramatically. ]

Oh, Maker, exhausting. Bethany and Carver were twins, so it was always double trouble. Father was usually off with the Wardens for something or other, so it was Mother and I holding down the farm and keeping everyone out of trouble.

I grew up quickly, it seems, but it was still a lot of fun, all told.

[ His flair for dramatics nearly matches her own. He's so animated and genuine. She enjoys him very much. ]

Twins! Are they the sort to have their own language? Speak without speaking at all?

[ Give him an audience and he'll perform for hours. ]

They did, actually. [ He has to grin at that. ] I learned some of it over the years, too. Bethany was the more amiable of the two, so she taught me how to speak it. Carver, the brat, was always the surly one, always finding ways to get into trouble and dragging the rest of us along with him. Bethany just because, and me to find a way to get us out.

[ And he still misses both of them, desperately. ]

Do you get to see them often?

[ He paints such a vivid picture of his family. They sound so close and their bond is full of love and affection despite how they may drive each other crazy. It reminds her of how she feels about Ivan and Fedyor. Ivan is always the grumpy of the pair with low patience for her mischief, but his better half is always game to get into trouble with her. ]

[ Even though he knew that question would come eventually, he's still not entirely prepared for it. Memories hit him like a kick in the gut, and Hawke's expression falls, sadness darkening the bright shine of blue eyes and the gleam of his smile.

He can't answer right away, but shakes his head slowly. ]

...I...I wish I could, honestly. Bethany was...killed...many years ago, when my family was forced to flee Ferelden to Kirkwall. And Carver... [ A sigh. ] We'd never been really close, but...well, circumstances after didn't seem to help.

[ The mage huffs another sigh, squares his shoulders, and answers further. ]

He was gravely injured during one of the Deep Roads expeditions we undertook while in Kirkwall, and to save his life, a friend and I interceded with the Grey Wardens to help him. They demanded he join their order as payment, and Carver agreed. He's with them still, and from what news I manage to get, hale and hearty, although just as stubborn as ever. [ A tiny smile accompanies the last. ]

[ Nina feels the change in his heartbeat. She immediately feels terrible for asking. He squares his shoulders, but she leans in and wraps her arms around him to hold him close. She tries to pour her comfort into him. ]

I'm sorry for those that you've lost. It never gets easier. People say time heals all wounds, but truly, time simply helps you learn to endure it.

[ The concern is appreciated; Hawke returns the embrace. ]

No, it really doesn't.

[ But he doesn't mind the asking; it's not in any way her fault. And manages to chuckle, if a little roughly. ]

I've been enduring for quite a while.

I know that feeling well.

[ Her voice comes slightly muffled where her cheek is pressed against him. She's suffered losses. She's lost friends on the frontlines and in the Fold. ]

You're in good company.

Wish I wasn't.

[ Said gently, his chin resting atop her head. But he's a good comforter; he's done it more than often for his inner circle. Hawke strokes Nina's hair gently, offering quiet support and strength if she needs it. ]

...but I suppose losing people is part of life, though the philosophy doesn't make their absence any easier to bear.

[ He doesn't let go when he inquires: ]

Have you also lost family?

Yes.

[ Her parents. Her fellow Grisha. Friends she's made in her travels. Being Grisha means constantly losing someone she cares about. For some, it's hardened their hearts, but that's never been Nina. She feels strongly in everything though she doesn't always show it. She hides it behind her ribald jokes and cheeky mischief. ]

Too many.

[ They're more alike than they realize. Hawke deals with his own grief by focusing on the problems of others; it's a moderate bulwark to keep his own sorrow at arm's length. ]

I'm sorry, Nina. I truly am.

Don't be.

[ She appreciates his understanding and comfort most of all. The gentle stroking of his fingers through her hair nearly makes her want to melt. She pulls back to smile wryly up at him. ]

Two peas in a pod, you and I.

[ His chuckle rumbles in his chest, warm against her cheek. Hawke gently lowers his head to nuzzle a soft kiss at her temple, understanding and sympathy offered in every quiet caress. He's always had a big heart, even when it pained him more than it should, but he'll never regret being the stalwart for anyone who's ever needed him. ]

Seems so, doesn't it?

[ He rests his cheek against her head, just holding her close. ]

But you're safe here, Nina. For as long as you wish to remain,

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callmedeath - 2024-03-11 13:46 (UTC) - Expand

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