( OPEN ) old nerd gets drunk and shakes a cane

[aenseidhe]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Iorveth
RECIPIENT: Errybody
WHAT: Ranting about the Divines and the likely continuation of systematic oppression
WHEN: nownownow
WHERE: Kirkwall alienage?
NOTES: idefk, i'm sorry

[ why hello there good friends. the voice you hear is the same snide grumble, but there's a slur to it, words spaced with the occasional gulp from what can be correctly assumed is a tankard of something that sure isn't water. aka, iorveth is shitfaced and getting his political rant on. ]

Divines. A farcical parade in just how ploughed the oppressed would like to be: moderately sullied but stocked enough in intoxicants to endure, or gathering up their young in the night to flee to the hills from the rallied masses? [ there's a snort, that turns into a snicker, that turns into another gulp of whatever he's chugging. don't drink and go on SJW rants, kids. ]

Much as the humans of my homeworld were conniving, cowardly worms, they were at least consistent enough to cheat the various religious sects in grabs for power as they did all others. Certainly, the feverishly devout, with their shrunken, diseased minds stuffed to the brim with fervent paranoia and prejudice could, and did, frolic about strapping dwarves, elves and whatever they could slap 'heretic' onto to pikes and burning them in the city square, but if the lord of the land found the stench disagreeable, the city guard could be sent down to disperse it.

Here, we're watching them puzzle over a woman that could proclaim our entire force abomination and cripple the effort to save the idiot masses that raise her to do so. There's only one of them I'd believe wouldn't look to stuffing our mages back into towers and crushing the non-humans further into the dirt, but her mind's rumored to be half-addled. Not that she's like to win, having radical opinions like 'perhaps we shouldn't be such arrogant, imperial twats', or 'maybe we should let the elves out of their mud-pens now and again', and 'do you think the mages might like us more if we didn't kidnap them and lock them in towers?'

[ a sigh, and iorveth seems to be winding down, the creak of wood signaling him lounging back. ]

Assuming the one we're stuck with isn't so daft as to take a bat to the Inquisition's kneecaps, the best we can hope for, on the civil end, is a... [ oh, we're fading, we're fading fast. ] Is a dra... Is...

[ aaaaand he passes right the fuck out before he can say something horrible like "let's hope a dragon swoops down and devours them all right after Corypheus bites it." Any replies will be answered some hours later, when his dumb ass wakes up hung over and confused. ]

Comments

[justice_is_blond]

[He waits for several minutes, hoping for a continuation. If Iorveth had been asking if there was a dragon there'd probably be more alarm, really.]

...Iorveth? Are you all right?

[aenseidhe]

[ there is not a dragon inside his elf house. he is hoping a dragon conveniently appears and eats up all the conservative divine prospects. it'll be a couple hours later that he wakes up and listens to the message Anders left. ]

No. [ comes the half-muffled drawl, ] Someone's driven a spike through one side of my head and out the other. You?

[justice_is_blond]

For that sort of an injury, you're speaking rather coherently. I'm impressed.

[He's slightly amused, and there's a short pause.]

Do you need someone to take a look at your head? I've a powder that helps with headaches. And that was an interesting speech you were giving before... the spiking.

[seaboard]

[ DEEPLY ALARMED AT THE END OF THAT RANT. ]

Is he alright? Is anyone about that can tend to him?

[aenseidhe]

[ l o o k, he was just sleepy, ok?

a few hours later, he wakes up and actually listens to this message. ]

He's probably dead, but he had it coming. Not to worry.

[seaboard]

Sir! [ Perish the thought, but she actually does sound relieved on his behalf. ] Oh - you are awake again. That sounded most frightful.

[chainlightning]

I'll go and check on him. I know where he lives.

[ In as much as Merrill knows where everyone in the alienage lives, at least. ]

Not to worry, okay?

[seaboard]

Oh, thank you. He does seem... dreadfully upset. I am sure he would do well with good company.

[ She'd offer to send a bottle of wine to cheer him up, but that right now seemed to be the cause of his current predicament. ]

[shri]

[ It's been a while since she picked a lock, but old tricks and all that. Assuring the children from the alienage that she wasn't here to hurt him, see - was she not a rifter? The one that threw the big party for them all to have fun at? Just that the fool had gotten quite drunk, and she needed to make sure that he wasn't about to choke in his sleep when all of that drink came back up again.

Once she's inside, she finds him, passed out, slumped over in a pile with a snort of laughter. Right. She shoos the children off. No one needed to see their possible parent figure on his worse nights. ]

Come on, Handsome Arjuna, you've drunk your fill, and now there is milk and blankets for you. [It's murmured as she works, jostling him as she works, sliding his arms over her shoulders and getting her own around his waist. With a grunt, she lifts him up in one big heave of him over her shoulder. ] You great idiot. Some Rakshasa is going to eat you like this.

[aenseidhe]

[ lakshmi wrestles with him and iorveth squirms, like the lanky, slithery thing he is, seemingly content with snuggled up to his living room floor, but she eventually succeeds in getting him hoisted up (a shame no one else is around to see that hilarious picture).

it's enough jostling to bring him to something near half-consciousness, and after a mumbled string of something in elder speech that probably translates into your face is getting eaten by rakshasa, what's a rakshasa, he takes a bit more of his weight from her, at least enough he can hobble-step in whatever direction she's leading him. ]

When did you get here? Were you hiding in my house?

[ because clearly she didn't just come through the fucking door, like a normal person. ]

[shri]

[ She puts up with it admirably. So far, he hadn't thrown up on her, so that put him somewhat above Benedict and the last time she had to do this. So with him picked up, mostly able to stand up, she begins to take him the rest of the way. ]

When I heard you pass out, I was nearby on my rounds. I figured I ought to make sure you didn't choke on your own vomit.

[ She keeps his arm over her shoulder, as they hobble towards his bed. ]

[elegiaque]

—Iorveth?

[aenseidhe]

[ some hours later: ]

...Gwenaëlle.

[ a w k ... ]

[chainlightning]

[ He's not wrong. It's a shame that he's drunk - maybe more people would listen, then.

Still, the slight 'thump' from when Iorveth passes out is enough for Merrill to leave her own house in the alienage and go to check on him. The lock is- inconvenient, but a clever application of magic when no one is looking has her getting it open, mostly by convincing the nearby plants to pop it open for her. It might actually be broken; she's no idea. For the moment, it isn't what's important, anyway.

She's no mage healer but she's seen drunken first aid before. A pillow, or something close to one, is bundled together; she lifts Iorveth's head and sets it on the mound so that he's somewhat elevated, in case he decides to throw up all over. Water is fetched and boiled, over his fire or a fire Merrill starts for him. Whatever passes for curtains are drawn, and if there are none, Merrill uses what's on hand; blankets, jackets, even furs brought over from her own house. An empty bucket is placed near his head, and after a moment of thought, a second with rags and soap and more water is brought over. One of the rags is soaked in cool water and gently draped over Iorveth's head, and Merrill settles in to wait - to keep vigil, to make sure Iorveth is able to sleep some of it off and also to make sure he doesn't come to harm in his sleep. She hums softly, leaning back into her spot.

When Iorveth wakes, Merrill will be there - either still keeping an eye on him and humming softly, maybe carving a piece of wood with a knife, or fast asleep herself. ]

[aenseidhe]

[ it has been entire human lifespans since iorveth woke up to someone singing him a lullaby.

on the brightside, and to his credit, he managed not to puke during his sleep, so there's no need for the buckets. it isn't homeboy's first rodeo, and this isn't the level of "all my friends are dead and my entire race is doomed" kind of getting shitfaced. more like the 'i was bored and annoyed and drinking too damn much just seemed like a good idea at the time' type of blackout. sure, everything sucks, but we aren't about to get weepy about it.

unless we stay on the train of thought to the last time he heard a woman singing a lullaby in something that sounds elven, but the piercing ache in his head conveniently stabs right in, derailing anything that might've been soft and sentimental. instead, there is a rough groan, and iorveth's hand slapping over the cool cloth on his forehead, dragging it down over his eyes. ]

Not that it isn't appreciated, Merrill, but surely you have better things to do than watch some drunk snore.

[exsecutus]

The best we can hope for is what.

[Nothing like someone expecting you to finish your drunken thoughts, right.]

[aenseidhe]

[ hahahaaaa, drunken thoughts he'd been voicing some hours before he actually gets around to answering this message, so no, he won't be recalling it. ]

The gods to grant us a brew with a kinder morning after. [ ugh, end him. ] What was the question?

[writteninblood]

[This is not a chuckle. A chuckle can have some dignity to it, even gravitas. A properly delivered chuckle can, in the proper context, convey a range of states, from grim all the way to fondness. What Sorrel is doing is neither dignified nor grim; giggling rarely is.]

Iorveth. Iorveth. You're drunk. Go to bed.

[He's so delighted.]

When you're awake enough. I've— [Oh he should not say this where it can be heard, and he won't, but still he laughs.] Invite me over, when you feel like you're done being something scraped off the road, tomorrow, yeah?

[aenseidhe]

[ aw, sorrel. he will always welcome your giggling, and in light of beleth being recently departed, it's even more refreshing. glad you're still around, buddy. ]

Been and done. It's not helped much.

[ this message will be coming several hours after sorrel's initial one. ]

I'll need at least half a day before I return to a vaguely believable elven state. You'll be the first to be informed.

[exequy]

I'm sure the idiot masses only haven't yet realized you are here to explain all of their problems to them.

[ That's his religion you're ranting about, bro. ]

[aenseidhe]

Only the idiot masses forcing those uninterested in their religion to abide by the etiquette and prejudices of it.

[ shh, booboo, you're not an idiot mass. you're not a twat (in the ways that matter) and you've never sneered at him for having pointy ears. only for, like, every other reason and no reason at all, which is preferable. besides: ]

The problem I'd meant was Corypheus. The rest of that was personal complaint toward general... [ imagine some vague handwaving going on here ] humanity.

[ so... also you. he's not making this better. ]

[circleprodigy]

[A sigh of sympathy.]

Welcome to our headache.

[She pauses, realizing he's likely passed out.]

If you need a hangover cure when you awaken, let me know. It will taste awful, but I've had people swear it works.

[aenseidhe]

[ some hours later: ]

Regretfully, this headache isn't new. Nonhumans had it no easier in my world, and while mages could walk free, it wasn't without the occasional witch burning.

[ as for the cure: ]

There's already a mage on the way with something I'm sure won't taste any better, but I appreciate the offer.

[filthydipper]

[There are other issues but first--]

What's the difference between strapping and stout? Everyone calls us stout here.

[Iorveth's probably seen Yngvi, he could charitably be described as stringy at best. He needs ducks in a row first.]

[aenseidhe]

[ some hours later, once he's woken: ]

...I called dwarves strapping?

[ what the fuck, why tho?? what he doesn't remember is that the 'strapping' part was referring to dwarves being strapped to a pike and burned, you know, like zealous humans like to do where he's from. maybe he was a little more gay last night than he remembers. ]