OPEN ( ⚠ there ain't no motive for this crime )

[hairysituations]

WHO: Varric (hairysituations) and YOU.
WHEN: Anytime between 6/11-6/16.
WHERE: Pleasure District, The Mistress's Girdle.
WHAT: Varric's bartending at a semi-seedy bar, which means: general CR building, networking, drinking, gossiping, flirting, setting drinks on fire, bonding, witty banter, getting drunk, whatever your little heart desires.
RATING/WARNING: Language, will update for anything else.

i.

[ the bar's not too bad for a place called The Mistress's Girdle. smaller in size, with patrons who aren't exactly the kind of people you'd want to be out on a dark street with at night, wooden bar, table, and chairs that smell faintly of beer and wax. he'd taken up working there as soon as he found it; it was charming in a small, hole-in-the-wall kind of way.

he's standing behind the counter (yes, provided with a special thick mat to give him an extra few inches to reach the bar without a problem), keeping busy while its slow by drying glasses and arranging bottles.

slow enough that it's easy to make conversation, so he does, whoever happens to be sitting at his bar: ]

You want me to get something for you? [ he drops a glass down onto the bar, ] Or are you just in the mood to keep me company? Boring tonight.



ii.

[ it's getting well into the evening and Varric's been practicing setting drinks on fire. they're supposed to be his specialty, and hey, he can appreciate a little razzle dazzle as long as it doesn't burn his eyebrows off. so he's behind the bar alone, keeping his hands busy by mixing drinks and using his own little tricks to light the glasses on fire.

when he gets a particularly nice one (small long stemmed glass with a ring of purple fire lighting up around the rim, turning blue at the edge of the flame thanks to chemicals) he pushes the drink to someone sitting at the bar: you. ]

Have one on the house. You look like you could use a pick-me-up.

[ he pauses before adding ] You wouldn't think I need to say this, but you'd be surprised—blow the fire out before you drink it.




iii.

[ he's nearing the end of his shift, cleaning up some of the seating area, straightening chairs and wiping off tables that have gotten a little too grimy, even for this bar's tastes. there are a few people still sitting around and drinking (this place never closes, it seems) but they're mostly quiet.

he stops by a table, ]

Oh, is this— [ and he bends down, scooping up something into his hand to offer it to whoever happens to be sitting at the table next to where he found it ] ... yours?

[ there's hesitation in his voice because it's ... a pair of panties. black lace. classy, but still: ... what? Varric lifts an eyebrow. um???? ] Should I ask?




iv.

[ Varric's off his shift but just hanging around; no harm, not when he can use a drink himself, and there are people around for some fun. he's sitting more toward the back of the bar, reclining back in one of the wooden chairs, shuffling a deck of cards idly.

when someone catches his eye he grins and gestures for them to come over with two fingers, ]

Up for a game?

[ he holds the cards up, twisting his wrist, ] Been a while since I've gotten to play anything.



v.

[ WILDCARD. respond with a prompt of your own if your character would be getting into any wonky nonsense in his general vicinity of standing at the bar making drinks. or right outside. you wanna be passed out drunk and fall into the garbage cans? you do that, my friend. it's yours for the taking. Varric will also be cutting anyone who looks like they had waaaay too much to drink off. ]

Comments

[hairysituations]

Both sound interesting. But... maybe the second more than the first.

[ ... if only because that's usually a story that's got more meat behind it. ]

[freeinghorror]

Ah, I suppose it would to a storyteller. Tragedy tends to stir more emotions then fighting against all odds.

[It was a little too personal to speak about, but he knew of other stories concerning Fallen Makai, some of them from family stories, some of which had been elaborated on by others.]

I may know of a few, though they are from my great-grandfather's time.

[hairysituations]

Mmmm... well, fighting against the odds has its own special place in my heart.

[ much less fiction when it's what you've dealt with for about ... forever, give or take. ]

—and there's nothing wrong with a classic, [ he adds, nodding his chin. ] Just as good.

[freeinghorror]

It does have a nice ring to it, though I find it a bit more ordinary. Then again, my Order does tend towards doing a lot of fighting against terrible odds on a daily basis.

[Horrors will always exist. The Makai were only a piece of paper trying to hold back the flood, and their numbers were dwindling from the stress of the work. No matter how much they accomplish, all it would take is one strong monster to make it all crash down.

For instance, a monster like him.

He took a sip of his drink, looking at it for a moment and letting the taste fill his senses while he thought about it, but then gave a mental shrug. It wasn't like a lot of people would know what he was talking about.]

My great-grandfather had been a foundling, taken in by a childless Knight and raised to pick up his arms when he finally was initiated into the Order. It wasn't usually done; at least in most cases, members of the Order adopt only within the Order but the Knight felt that he was worthy of the honor. You can imagine that it wasn't widely accepted among the more traditional members.