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[whathawksdo]

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[whathawksdo]

[ Let's be real here, Hawke isn't even sure what "vegetarian options" means. Chances are no one from Ferelden would. ]

But why?

[ Anyway, regardless of what vegetarian may or may not mean (she's guessing something with vegetables, but what even), when she does finally speak again it's... that. It doesn't really specify what she's asking about. Why? Why what? Why anything. Why is he here? Why is he bringing food over? What's the catch here?

She's since closed the door and wandered back into the living room, of course, where she's tentatively keeping her balance with the help of a hand on the back of the couch. ]

[sassguard]

[ There are a lot of potential whys she could mean, but Shepard opts for the easy answer first: ]

Because no one deserves to deal with a crappy day on an empty stomach.

[ And then, more seriously: ]

And I wanted to apologize. I lost track of you after the swear-in. [ He pauses. ] How much of it do you remember?

[ To sweeten the question, he offers her a box of orange chicken and a fork, having evaluated that she probably isn't in a mood for chopsticks. ]

[whathawksdo]

[ Peace offering accepted, but only after she takes a few seconds to frown at the offered box. Does she have any idea what it is? Nope. Is she going to eat it anyway? You had better believe it. Once she has the orange chicken and the fork, she'll step around the couch and flop down to sit on it with a sigh. ]

More than what I've drunk so far has been able to make me forget. [ Hey, he can see the amount of bottles for himself. No point in denying it. ] I killed someone. It was only Dorian, but...

[ And technically he doesn't die. Still, she does feel awful about it. ]

Somehow that wasn't even the worse part of the night. Though, you hardly have anything to apologize for. All I did was make my way back here once I could stand again.

[ That all said, she's going to eat this mystery whatever. It smells good enough to take the chance. ]

[sassguard]

[ Shepard takes a seat on the other end of the couch, elbows propped on his knees, though he doesn't move to take any food himself -- he just looks around casually, assessing the space that Hawke has made for herself. Though he supposes he's not seeing it at its best. He does, however, turn his head when she mentions killing someone, brow raised. ]

Just so we're clear, is this the same Dorian that Kaidan's supposed to be babysitting? [ Kaidan hasn't spoken too favorably about the man, though Shepard hasn't met him himself (little does he know...). He doesn't think Hawke would be the type to be flippant about any death but her own, at any rate, unless it was a quick fix.

Vaguely, he wishes he'd had the foresight to bring Mako. That would make this conversation a lot easier ... but she'd also get into the food, so maybe it's better that she isn't here. ]

[whathawksdo]

[ Really. That would have just ended in Hawke making Mako do tricks for unhealthy Chinese food.

To be fair, the house itself won't give him much of an idea. Dorian #1, the one from her world, is responsible for all the parts that aren't currently a mess. The mess, of course, is at least limited to the coffee table between the couch and the television, so she's at least polite about her misery. As for the couch, piles of blankets and, let's be real here, Hawke hasn't exactly changed out of her pajamas.

Maybe she'll be embarrassed over it later, maybe not.

Now, the mention of Dorian being babysat by Kaidan, that has her coughing and almost snorting orange chicken back up. ]

He's what? [ Just... just let her clear her throat. When she can finally laugh without a choking hazard, oh, you'd better believe she laughs. ] Kaidan? And Dorian? Dorian Gray? Oh Maker, that is amazing. That's...

[ Right, killing. Shepard was asking about killing Gray. She struggles to stop laughing for another moment, trying to act a little more sober. Failing to. Snickering into the box of takeout again. Okay, okay, she can do this. ]

...heheh... yes, that one. That Dorian. He's immortal, so the killing didn't take. I think I already apologized. [ There's a pause and she actually does try to focus for a few seconds, trying to recall that conversation. Then, a nod. ] Yes. Yes I did. I owe him cake.

[sassguard]

[ Was that not supposed to be public knowledge? Ah, well. It seems to have cheered her up considerably, even if it's at Dorian and Kaidan's expense, and it's enough to get a smile out of Shepard himself. Then again, she's pretty drunk, so anything could be amusing at this point.. ]

Yeah, Kaidan was his probation officer up til' ... just a little while ago. They got along about as well as you'd expect. [ Of course, that's only speaking from secondhand knowledge, but Kaidan's judgemental tone was out in full force talking about the man, so Shepard can fill in the blanks. ]

Guess he doesn't have to worry about much, if a cake is all it takes. [ Says the guy bringing food himself. Though his expression sobers after a minute, looking away. Uncomfortable question incoming -- ]

Who was Carver?

[whathawksdo]

You know, that's funny because up until just a little while ago-- [ Hawke's still laughing it up over here. ] Wait, wait, no. I shouldn't tell you. [ She really shouldn't. She also shouldn't gesture wildly with her fork as she makes certain points. ] But he has such bad taste in costumes. Also, haaates being set on fire.

[ For someone who's planning to bring the man a cake... Okay, maybe she'll stop. Particularly because of what Shepard brings the room back down with. If he was looking for a way to kill that smile, he's found it. Hawke's good mood tapers off and she stabs the fork back into the box. ]

Is. [ She looks down, focusing on poking around what's left of the chicken. ] Who is Carver. He's not quite dead yet.

[sassguard]

[ Ah. With the drop in her mood, Shepard almost thinks that's the end of the conversation, but she continues speaking -- and he wonders how much of that lucidity is owed to the alcohol.

Either way, if she's willing to talk, he's willing to listen, and he turns his head towards her slightly, brows pulling together. ]

Sorry. You just looked like... [ A mess, frankly, but that's not what he wants to say here. ] ...like you'd seen a ghost.

[ Though that doesn't answer his first question, really. ]

[whathawksdo]

It wasn't just who it was, it was... [ She isn't sure how to explain it. There's so much background, so much that would be out of context outside of Thedas. Darkspawn, the Blight, the Wardens, the Deep Roads, ghouls, all of it. ] How he could be. Someday.

[ But that doesn't explain who Carver is, so she may as well get that part done with. That, at least, has common terms attached. ]

Carver is my brother.

[sassguard]

[ Oh. Oh. Shepard's expression shifts, subtly. He'd understood, from the desperation in her voice, that it had been personal. He just hadn't realized how personal it was until now. ]

Someday? [ He lets the question hang, but quietly. ] You made it sound like you were ... trying to save him from something.

[ But from the look on her face, the solution hadn't been much better than the problem. ]

[whathawksdo]

I thought I had, but I know better now.

[ Whether Carver's made his own peace with that or not, well, that wouldn't exactly rid Hawke of the lingering guilt even if he has. ]

He became very ill on an expedition. One I let him come along on. There's no cure, not really. [ She sighs and leans back against the couch, sliding down into a slouch. ] I used to think the Grey Wardens had one, but it's not that. Not really. They just... just survive it longer because of, well, whatever it is they do. I don't actually know that part.

[sassguard]

[ The rambling narrative doesn't really make sense, making references to things Shepard doesn't know of, but he can get what's important from context -- and he can guess how it plays into Hawke's fears. ]

You think he blames you for what happened?

[whathawksdo]

Sometimes he seems alright with being stuck with the Wardens, but... it was never his decision. I took that choice away from him. Who wouldn't resent that?

[sassguard]

You don't think he wouldn't do anything to save you, if your positions had been reversed?

I don't know a lot about your world, but from where I'm standing, he has more options alive than dead.

[whathawksdo]

Not as many options as you may think. Still, he would have saved the world a lot of trouble if our positions had been reversed...

[ Although what that entails, who knows. Only she does and she doesn't try to explain it further. ]

But no. We don't always get along, but I can't imagine him letting me die if he could help it, either.

[sassguard]

Was he younger than you? [ The pitch of Hawke's voice and her expression remind him a little of Miranda in this moment -- worrying after someone they cared for, but couldn't do much about. What she means about the world being better off is something he's curious about, but not something he feels the need to pry into, for now. ]

Is there a reason he can't leave the Wardens? You make it sound like some kind of cult.

[whathawksdo]

Yes. By a few years. And it's more an order, but cult isn't too far off. [ With how damn mysterious they are. ] No one could really stop him from leaving, I suppose, but you rarely see a Warden who's left. Anders was--

[ No, she doesn't want to talk about Anders. Hawke cuts off abruptly, scowling down adamantly at the carton, but then it evens back out into something just... exhausted. Admittedly, she already looked tired before, but now there's something irrefutably sad about it. ]

It doesn't matter. Carver decided to stay. He finally found somewhere that I couldn't overshadow him.

[sassguard]

[ That, at least, is enough to make Shepard's brows quirk a bit. Everyone's got a story to them, and it seems like Hawke, at least, is no exception to having family issues. Still, it wouldn't be the first time. ]

Why would he feel overshadowed?

[ The question's motivated by genuine curiosity, at least. Shepard doesn't have experience with siblings to speak of, but he's met enough to have a vague understanding of how strange families can be. ]

[whathawksdo]

Because I lead the way, made all the decisions. [ She offers Shepard a shrug, a weak one, half-hearted. ] When people did business with the Hawkes, it was more Hawke and her little brother, not Marian and Carver Hawke...

[sassguard]

Being the leader isn't all it's cracked up to be. [ He pauses to consider that, leaning against the couch back and smiling suddenly, wry. ]

You don't exactly strike me as a businesswoman, though. Not unless it involves setting things on fire, anyway.

[whathawksdo]

Does all business involve sitting behind a desk and writing on papers? [ Hawke can't help but sound a little offended, albeit not seriously. If she can sink any farther down where she sits, she does, though comfortably. ] Half of it was setting things on fire, to be honest, and I did outsource an awful lot of it to Varric for awhile...

[ Another person she misses so very much, so there's yet another miserable sigh. ]

What was there... smuggling, mercenary work, treasure hunting. Killed an awful lot of giant spiders. It was odd jobs, but it was still business.

[sassguard]

[ Shepard laughs, softly. He doesn't have a fondness for mercenaries, but he understands that Hawke comes from a different time -- a different place. Although there's an idea: Hawke with a spaceship at her disposal? Who knows what kind of trouble she'd get into... ]

Sounds a lot like working for the Alliance, though at least I had the benefit of getting a retirement plan. [ He gets comfortable too, lacing his fingers together over his stomach. ]

Was it always like that, for you? Even growing up?

[whathawksdo]

[ Ohhh, a Hawke with a spaceship would have given the Normandy a run for its money, assuming it was not, in fact, the Normandy that she absconded with in the first place. ]

Always? No. Of course not. My parents wanted nothing to do with adventures like that, so all we ever did was find nice, quiet farming villages and settle down on the outskirts. Never got too friendly with the neighbors, but it wasn't the worst of lives.