Garrett Hawke (
bloodmagics) wrote in
entrancelogs2016-03-18 02:46 am
so we might as well give up the fight
Who: Garrett Hawke & Dorian Pavus | Garrett Hawke & You
Where: Hawke's room | The beach, the kitchens, the grounds
When: March 17th
Rating: PG-ish?
Summary: It's time for something of an intervention | Hawke tries to find... healthier coping processes.
The Story:
» DORIAN PAVUS » MARCH 17TH
[To say that his reunion with Carver hadn't gone well is like the Blight is an inconvenience, it's just blatantly not true and a newborn baby would be able to tell you were lying.
After Carver had stormed off, he'd had time to cool down -- somewhat -- enough to at least clean up the mess he made and quietly leave. He wanted to drown himself in enough alcohol to kill everyone in Orlais, but after the scene they'd made in the bar, he also wanted to do it alone. And that's why he barricaded himself in his room, a few basic wards on the door - enough to keep anybody not magically inclined out - and settled himself right next to the closet in the most comfortable chair it could conjure.
It's quite literally a miracle he doesn't drink himself to death, alternating between passing out atop the mabari and replaying the entire conversation in his head until he can bring himself to get another drink. He's not proud of himself, but it was just too much. Months of suppressed feelings, of fearing that Carver didn't survive and it would be his fault, of doubting whether or not he exists and it all exploded at once.
When a knock comes at the door, it isn't Hawke who answers it. Instead, the mabari whines and scratches at the door.]
» THE DINING ROOM » MARCH 18TH
[After he'd gotten cleaned up and ate something that stayed down, he's fallen into an actual bed and slept. He'd woken up with the world's worst hangover but he'd promised Dorian he wouldn't drink anymore, and that he'd try to at least leave his room. So he makes another smart decision and heads to the dining room, mabari in tow.
Sooner or later, anybody who enters the dining room will find Hawke with seated at the table with a frankly obnoxious amount of food in front of him, the mage having gone a little overboard and gotten Wonderland to provide random dishes to broaden his horizons. Some are fine, delicious even, roasted meats, vegetables, food from all over Earth that Hawke's never experienced before.
And then there's the other pile.
Abominations that look like they belong on a Buzzfeed list are piled high on a series of plates, with Hawke gingerly trying them because he has no idea you're not supposed to put certain foodstuffs together. Occasionally he passes a piece or two to the mabari under the table, and quite possibly has a conversation with it about what they're both eating.]
» THE BEACH & GROUNDS » MARCH 18TH
[After his experiment in the dining room, Hawke retires to his room for a few hours to sleep off the incredible amount food he ate. He'd be more than happy to stay there the rest of the day and night but unfortunately, once a mabari decides it wants something, chances are you're getting dragged out of bed by your ankle.
Though, after the last few days he could really use the exercise, so once he wakes up and finds something a little less cumbersome to wear, he heads outside. Between all the alcohol and the sheer amount of food, he still feels like he went fifteen rounds with an Archdemon but hey, maybe he can sweat out the rest of the negative feelings.
His route takes him and the mabari down past the vendors before they make their way to the beach where they spend most of the afternoon. At least once, he trips over the mabari and ends up in the ocean, swearing up a storm.]
Where: Hawke's room | The beach, the kitchens, the grounds
When: March 17th
Rating: PG-ish?
Summary: It's time for something of an intervention | Hawke tries to find... healthier coping processes.
The Story:
» DORIAN PAVUS » MARCH 17TH
[To say that his reunion with Carver hadn't gone well is like the Blight is an inconvenience, it's just blatantly not true and a newborn baby would be able to tell you were lying.
After Carver had stormed off, he'd had time to cool down -- somewhat -- enough to at least clean up the mess he made and quietly leave. He wanted to drown himself in enough alcohol to kill everyone in Orlais, but after the scene they'd made in the bar, he also wanted to do it alone. And that's why he barricaded himself in his room, a few basic wards on the door - enough to keep anybody not magically inclined out - and settled himself right next to the closet in the most comfortable chair it could conjure.
It's quite literally a miracle he doesn't drink himself to death, alternating between passing out atop the mabari and replaying the entire conversation in his head until he can bring himself to get another drink. He's not proud of himself, but it was just too much. Months of suppressed feelings, of fearing that Carver didn't survive and it would be his fault, of doubting whether or not he exists and it all exploded at once.
When a knock comes at the door, it isn't Hawke who answers it. Instead, the mabari whines and scratches at the door.]
» THE DINING ROOM » MARCH 18TH
[After he'd gotten cleaned up and ate something that stayed down, he's fallen into an actual bed and slept. He'd woken up with the world's worst hangover but he'd promised Dorian he wouldn't drink anymore, and that he'd try to at least leave his room. So he makes another smart decision and heads to the dining room, mabari in tow.
Sooner or later, anybody who enters the dining room will find Hawke with seated at the table with a frankly obnoxious amount of food in front of him, the mage having gone a little overboard and gotten Wonderland to provide random dishes to broaden his horizons. Some are fine, delicious even, roasted meats, vegetables, food from all over Earth that Hawke's never experienced before.
And then there's the other pile.
Abominations that look like they belong on a Buzzfeed list are piled high on a series of plates, with Hawke gingerly trying them because he has no idea you're not supposed to put certain foodstuffs together. Occasionally he passes a piece or two to the mabari under the table, and quite possibly has a conversation with it about what they're both eating.]
» THE BEACH & GROUNDS » MARCH 18TH
[After his experiment in the dining room, Hawke retires to his room for a few hours to sleep off the incredible amount food he ate. He'd be more than happy to stay there the rest of the day and night but unfortunately, once a mabari decides it wants something, chances are you're getting dragged out of bed by your ankle.
Though, after the last few days he could really use the exercise, so once he wakes up and finds something a little less cumbersome to wear, he heads outside. Between all the alcohol and the sheer amount of food, he still feels like he went fifteen rounds with an Archdemon but hey, maybe he can sweat out the rest of the negative feelings.
His route takes him and the mabari down past the vendors before they make their way to the beach where they spend most of the afternoon. At least once, he trips over the mabari and ends up in the ocean, swearing up a storm.]

no subject
Hawke. You know full well I'll let myself in if I have to, but I think it best you unlock the door yourself-- provided you can still walk.
[He can only imagine how much alcohol the other mage must have consumed by now. It's how he would have chosen to cope, as well.]
no subject
Dorian's voice cuts through him like a knife, too loud and too sudden.]
Go -- Go away, Dorian. [He groans at the sound of his own voice, cracked from disuse and alcohol consumption.] M'fine, really.
no subject
Oh, you most certainly are not.
[Any insistence that Dorian leave is just further proof that he's right where he needs to be, as far as he's concerned.]
I'm all for drowning your sorrows, but don't you think this is a bit much? Your insides must be screaming at you to stop by now.
no subject
[It's muttered to himself, likely not loud enough for Dorian to hear between the door and the distance but he's outraged by the very thought.]
Tell you -- Tell you what, Dorian. [There's a pause as he takes another drink.] When people -- people constantly tell you you don't exist to your face that you don't exist, you can judge whether or not this is a bit much.
no subject
While I confess I can only imagine how difficult your situation is, you realize there are better options than this when it comes to sorting it out?
[Here he is, Dorian Pavus, encouraging a coping mechanism other than alcoholism. Truly, this is the end of days.]
While I confess you are the first here to have run into this particular quandary-- you are not the only one who has had their existence denied. Really, we should choose another word entirely. Clearly, you do exist.
[Alternate realities are a headache, he knows.]
no subject
At least the dog is happy to see Dorian, nosing at his hand before licking it affectionately.]
Months, Dorian. I spent months fearing that I'd made the wrong decision, that Carver wouldn't survive whatever the Wardens did to help, that another of my siblings would die and it would be my fault. Again. [He takes another drink, challenge glinting in his eye as he keeps eye contact with the other mage.] Can you imagine what it feels like to then have your brother show up, and not only does he have no idea who you are, but every attempt you make to prove who you are ends up making him angrier?
no subject
I can imagine. It may not be accurate, as I have no basis for comparison, but do believe me when I say I am not belittling your predicament by any means.
[But he can't be allowed to stay here and drink himself into a stupor. He can't.]
Give him time. We all needed time upon our arrival. Some more than others.
no subject
Time. [He repeats the word, his distaste for it more than obvious.] Well, that'll be easy, since he made it clear he doesn't want to see me ever again.
[He sighs, toying with the bottle and refusing to look at Dorian now.]
You don't understand, Dorian. You have someone that you know, without a doubt, knows you. Isabela and Cullen recognise me, but that might just mean they know a Garrett, not me. They know the Champion of Kirkwall but that's not me, it might never be.
[Dorian gets what he wants, finally, when Garrett suddenly throws the bottle in his hand at the wall.]
My own brother looking at me with such... Such hate was the last straw, Dorian. Just leave me in peace.
no subject
In this state? I think not.
[Leaving Garrett alone seemed like it would be a very poor choice, in fact, even if it was what the man in question wanted. Dorian stubbornly folds his arms across his chest, grimacing. Whatever he has to say isn't likely to be well-received, he realizes, but that's never stopped him before.]
You've been shut in here for days, drinking yourself half to death over something that you can do nothing about. I won't deny how deeply it effects you, or the weight you carry as a result, but this, friend, is not the answer. This helps nothing.
no subject
What am I to do then, Dorian?
[He finds he can't avoid listening, however. As much as he doesn't want to admit it, some part of him knows Dorian is right.]
Should I put on a brave face, act like nothing has happened and that I'm not -- That I'm not lingering on the edge of madness because this place has decided to make me its plaything?
no subject
Their troubles were varied, each of them a different shape, but nonetheless real. No one person's trouble was any greater than another's, even if it often felt that way. Dorian had long been burdened with firsthand knowledge of the imminent destruction of Thedas, something he alone carried, though Brennan had done his part to share the weight as best he could-- it was a burden that never left his mind, not for a moment, and yet here in Wonderland, he could do nothing about it.
This place was enough to drive anyone mad.
"All I suggest is that you be patient. No one's arrival in Wonderland was easy, but we have all adapted. Your brother will do the same; give him time to come to terms with this place and how it works, what it does to people from our world. He won't stay away. Even if he's angry, you must know that."
no subject
Rather unsteadily, Hawke climbs to his feet, needing to lean on the table for a moment.
"A few months ago, whoever gave out those gifts gave me Bethany's neckscarf. To be cruel, I guess," as he talks, he stumbles towards the closet for another drink. "I carried it with me every day, as a reminder of what I lost and what I left behind. So when Carver refused to believe me, I thought," he interrupts himself to open the closet, grabbing whatever appears. "I thought he should have it, because they were twins. And if he didn't know me, he would at least have something of hers he wouldn't have before."
The closet door closes and Hawke's head hits it with a thump.
"How do you think that went?"
I don't know why my brain decided to make that last tag prose and change format MISTAKES WERE MADE
[It's an honest question, rather than an accusation. Perhaps it's because he's a largely objective observer in this particular situation-- but Hawke is hardly the only one who has had loved ones appear and not remember them, even if he's the only one where the person in question in related by blood.]
Were you in his position, would you believe someone claiming to be a brother you don't remember? Brennan has been through the same with our own companions. The gesture was a thoughtful one, I'll grant you that, but consider that he might not yet be in a place to appreciate it. We all needed time to adjust. Some more than others. Given the sounds of the world he comes from, and what passed for family there, he may be on the 'more' side of things.
[He sighs.]
I am not telling you to forget what weighs on you, but sitting in the dark with only your hound and the bottle for company is not the way to make this better. It can only make things worse.
no subject
With the freedom granted by their prison, he's forgotten himself. Wonderland has gotten into his head and left everything a mess. He's seen its machinations at work before, but they had been overt, events that warp memories and leave people broken versions of themselves. Nothing like this.
Fingers still curled around the neck of the bottle in his hand, he lets out a sigh.]
I'm open to suggestions.
[It isn't that he's ignoring everything else Dorian has said. Rather, if they keep talking about it, there's every chance he'll continue to act defensive, but he needed to hear this from someone who isn't overly involved, he thinks.]
no subject
[A tried and true coping mechanism, one he himself has often made use of when things weren't going quite his way-- which, back in Tevinter, seemed to be frequently after a certain point.]
There's an excellent training facility available here, as well as a magic study. Spending a little time in either of them might do you some good, help to release some of this.
no subject
Do I look the type to spend type in a magic study? [Hawke gives a tired laughing, running a hand down his face. It's a valid point though, considering everything he knows he learned from Malcolm or through trial and error.] Maybe I should start somewhere a little smaller, at least until I get all of... this, [He gestures at the mess in the room, which is mostly bottles, but.] out of my system.
[He's silent for a moment, wetting his lips before he speaks again.]
Speaking from experience?
no subject
[Seriously, Hawke, crack a book once in awhile. He lets out a quiet huff, a tired smile pulling at one side of his mouth.]
Perhaps. I know, it must be difficult to imagine someone as dashing as I am ever having to contend with something so mundane as misfortune.
no subject
[The tone of voice he uses makes it pretty clear he's a moment away from waggling his eyebrows. Clearly, he's feeling better, even if Dorian is still poking at something raw.]
Are you telling me the Maker himself didn't grant you his divine protection? I'm shocked, simply shocked.
no subject
I might have offered if I thought you were willing to learn.
[However, innuendo aside, Dorian himself is about as stubborn as they come-- no doubt any kind of actual lessons involving the pair of them would be an exercise in frustration and catastrophe.]
Well, you know how it is. Even the Maker isn't terribly fond of Tevinter, it would seem.
no subject
Maybe once I get back to myself, I'll officially ask you to teach me, then.
[He doesn't know when -- or if -- Wonderland is ever going to send him home, so trying to learn more of their shared craft here is really his only option.]
Ah - What would the Maker know? [He scoffs.] One day I'll have to get you to tell me about Tevinter.
Dining room
Laughing, he wanders over in that direction with a bemused smile, greeting the mabari with a scratch behind the ears as he comes to a stop beside the table and surveys the strange selection. ]
What's all this? Have I forgotten a particular feast-day we're supposed to be celebrating?
no subject
No, no. Dorian wasn't too happy with me for... Certain things, so he made me promise I'd eat something and since we don't have to pay for anything....
[He gestures at the entire pile and then kicks out a seat for Brennan.]
no subject
[ And is he going to have to deal with it later?
Brennan comes to take the offered seat, sinking down into it beside the mage and eyeing the spread with a dubious look. ]
Maker, I don't even recognize half of this. Are you sure all this is food?
no subject
[He groans, because it was so far from the situation Brennan's picturing.]
And yes, I think it all is. This isn't bad.
[He pushes the sushi platter towards Brennan.]
I think it's fish? Nothing like we have in Thedas, though.
no subject
[ Brennan can understand the feeling. ]
Let me guess. Your first encounter with some of our new arrivals didn't go so smoothly?
[ The sushi gets a puzzled look from him as he leans forward in his chair and pokes at the different rolls and stacks with a fingertip in puzzled bewilderment. ] That doesn't look like any fish I've ever seen. Is this... is this seaweed? I don't think that's supposed to be edible, Hawke.
no subject
Don't tell me you're scared of a little seaweed. Besides, it's pretty good.
[He grabs another piece, but this time he brings it up to Brennan's face instead.
Eat it.]
no subject
His grimace only deepens as he chews on it. ]
Oh my god, that is terrible. What is wrong with your tongue?
no subject
[Neener neener neener.]
Try these, then.
[He shoves a plate of chicken nuggets towards Brennan.]
no subject
I never asked for my horizons to include seaweed, thank you. I had more than enough of that while wading my way along the Storm Coast.
[ Still, he plucks up a chicken nugget and pops it in his mouth with a thoughtful look. ]
Oh, there. That was much better. Maybe there's hope for your tongue after all.
no subject
[But that is besides the point! He is way more cultured than you, Inquisitor Trevelyan.]
Says the person who likes the... greyish lump thing.
Grounds
And stops when he gets close enough to tell the difference.]
You're not- [It's then he notices the person accompanying the hound. It takes a moment to place where he's seen the face before but when he does his smile returns, if a little less broad than before.]
You're that other Ferelden I met when I got here- [He pauses, digging back to recall the man's name.] Garrett, right?
[Garrett... Hawke. From Ferelden. Huh.]
no subject
That's me. Alistair, right?
[He watches the mabari carefully, ready to intervene should the animal decide he doesn't like Alistair.]
How's Wonderland been treating you?
[He's genuinely interested, keeping up with Alistair had fallen through the cracks after certain events, but now he has a chance and he intends to make up for it.
Also the mabari definitely likes Alistair.]
no subject
That's me. You remembered!
[Looking up at the question he shrugs and waves a hand airily about.]
Oh you know, pretty much the way it treats everyone I guess. I don't know what to do with myself half the time but there's plenty of good company. And weird stuff to keep you on your toes.
[And other perks - like there always being plenty to eat and not camping out all the time - that more than made up for how little there was to occupy them some days.]
How about you?
no subject
Momentarily.]
Of course.
[He grins down at Alistair, nodding at his answer.] Makes sense. It's a lot to get used to, isn't it? Everything's so... strange compared to Thedas. [A beat.] Smells better, though.
[Mulling over his own answer for a moment, he looks up at the sky, focusing on that instead.]
Still adjusting, I guess. I've been here a while now, but there's always something new. Events, new arrivals...
no subject
And as soon as you think you're getting used to it something else changes. [Be it the mansion itself or something you think about yourself.]
Speaking of new arrivals.... [He trails off, wondering if he should ask or not. It's got to be difficult to deal with this sort of thing and he doesn't want to rub it in the other man's face. But he's curious and they do all have to deal with the same problem to some extent. And it's easier to know so he can avoid confusion later.] I met one the other day. Another Warden. With the family name Hawke.... Do you know if he's you? A different you?
[A future, different Hawke like the different Couslands and Inquisitors and seemingly everything else in Thedas. It's the most obvious answer, given what he knows of their different homes.]
no subject
It has to run out of things eventually, right? [But they both the answer to that.
When Alistair asks his question, Hawke looks away.]
No -- Ah, [He lifts a hand to scratch the back of his head.] He's my brother. Younger, but he's from the future so... Older younger brother? Maker, I hate this place.
no subject
[But yeah, no. He's not counting on it. Just as he's not counting on himself to ever not make conversations awkward, knowingly or otherwise.]
That must get even more confusing than us all being from different times. [Although an older-younger brother is still less weird than meeting another version of you so that's something. Hopefully. He does know better than to say as much though, instead offering-] He seems like a good man. I've only spoken to him a couple of times but he does. The Wardens are lucky to have him.
[And having family here to support him must be comforting. Although Alistair is curious now where the sister that he might get to know in the future fits into the family and how they meet.]
Sorry this is so late. I'm the worst. Beach.
So she's sitting in the sand, watching the waves hit the shore when she spots Hawke and his dog along the surf. She lets out a laugh when he trips over the dog and lands in the water. She waits until he surfaces, dripping wet before calling out to him. ]
Did you fancy a swim?
no worries ♥
You know me -- Always jumping in the water, fully clothed.
[He calls back to her as he makes his way to shore. Making his way to Isabela, he flops down next to her, throwing an arm around her shoulders and getting her nice and wet.]
Re: no worries ♥
You really didn't have to share that, thanks. I was perfectly content to watch you swim while I stayed dry.
[She reached up and poked him in the chest playfully.] So what brings you out here? Can't be your over fondness for falling on your ass in the ocean.
no subject
[He just laughs at her glare, refusing to let go.
Until she asks and he groans, low in his throat, and looks away.]
I needed the exercise after... The last couple of days.
no subject
The last few days? [She nudged him slightly, which was probably the most supportive move she actually knew how to make.]
no subject
Carver has no idea who I am.
[He figures that should be enough. No need to go into... everything he did.]
no subject
Seems fitting, since i had no idea who Carver was.
[ Beating around the bush is just a waste of time. ]
no subject
That must've been a fun conversation for you.
[A beat.]
Do you know Bethany, then?
no subject
[She frowns. Because he hadn't known she didn't know Carver, which means their worlds aren't exactly the same like she had previously hoped.]
Yes. I know Bethany. If you're asking me this...the version of me that you knew doesn't know her then?
no subject
[He shakes his head.]
I want to be glad there's a version of Thedas out there where she survived, but if it means losing Carver instead... [He trails off.] What did you think of him?
no subject
You can still be glad for it. Knowing there is a world she gets to live, and in your world your brother does.[ It's little comfort, but she's never really been very good at comfort. Not even when he lost his mother. ]
He's...[well, she had only spoken to him once.] he was a little angry, but glad to see me. From what I hear his version of you is a woman and...well I'm pretty sure they all thought I was dead.