OOM: Paradiso.
Jun. 16th, 2011 12:24 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
first-runihura.livejournal.comOOM: Where one part of the conversation is a dangerous old soldier with a funny ethnic headdress and a rifle...
And the other part is Tarik.
And the other part is Tarik.
Jun. 16th, 2011
first-runihura.livejournal.com
(no subject)
Jun. 16th, 2011 12:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
igetthatalotThe Lowtown part of Kirkwall is a maze of shantytowns and labyrinthine corridors, all clustered around the busy man-made harbor. Despite the name, it's not particularly awful; it's just more likely to be destroyed by tidal waves than Hightown. Varric likes it there, and spends most of his time there.
Most, not all. Today his brother was too tied down with a visitor from Orzammar and Varric had to come up the hill and deal with the Merchants' Guild himself.
There is a clean-shaven dwarf with a scowl like thunderclouds storming into the Bar, slamming down his coin in exchange for something alcoholic that smells of anise, and knocking it back without even blinking. He'll be out back shortly, as he caught sight of the target range the last time he was here, and it's nice sometimes to imagine certain self-satisfied faces on the bale instead of a bullseye marking.
Given that his crossbow is nearly as long as he is tall and modded clear to the Void and back, we don't suggest you attempt to cross his line of fire until you're absolutely certain he's reloading. And even then it might not be a good idea.
Most, not all. Today his brother was too tied down with a visitor from Orzammar and Varric had to come up the hill and deal with the Merchants' Guild himself.
There is a clean-shaven dwarf with a scowl like thunderclouds storming into the Bar, slamming down his coin in exchange for something alcoholic that smells of anise, and knocking it back without even blinking. He'll be out back shortly, as he caught sight of the target range the last time he was here, and it's nice sometimes to imagine certain self-satisfied faces on the bale instead of a bullseye marking.
Given that his crossbow is nearly as long as he is tall and modded clear to the Void and back, we don't suggest you attempt to cross his line of fire until you're absolutely certain he's reloading. And even then it might not be a good idea.
(no subject)
Jun. 16th, 2011 09:16 pmpushtheboatoutThe door swings open from what looks like a typical Yorkshire boys' school, and who should swagger in but Dakin, his satchel slung over his shoulder and his after-school cigarettes already out of his pocket.
"Meet you in five," he calls over his shoulder, and that's when he notices he's not in Sheffield anymore.
Well.
This is feels like a very subjunctive moment if ever Dakin has experienced one.
"Meet you in five," he calls over his shoulder, and that's when he notices he's not in Sheffield anymore.
Well.
This is feels like a very subjunctive moment if ever Dakin has experienced one.
(no subject)
Jun. 16th, 2011 10:06 pmtwiceahero.livejournal.comBarbara doesn't play a lot of games. She's a busy woman. But every so often she'll play something as long as it's conveniently nearby. And she's good at it.
So this evening she's playing pool.
By herself at the moment, though she doesn't look like she'll object to someone coming and getting their butt kicked. Because Babs is good at pool. And not just because she's fueled by the oversized mug of coffee perched on the edge of the table.
Remember: Barbara Gordon sees all the angles.
So this evening she's playing pool.
By herself at the moment, though she doesn't look like she'll object to someone coming and getting their butt kicked. Because Babs is good at pool. And not just because she's fueled by the oversized mug of coffee perched on the edge of the table.
Remember: Barbara Gordon sees all the angles.
