[This time, he’ll be at the afterparty. He’ll be a little, having gone to the workshop and thrown together two effigies, each one covered in spare sheets to loosely resemble clothes. It’s shoddy workmanship, but it’ll make a few people happy, he figures.]
[He’s also had the time to get to his post-trial ritual, which he posts up on Gold’s profile in the foyer, as usual. Knowing as little as he did about the kid, it had been a struggle but… He hoped it might suffice.]
The kid sat at the bar, grinning and acting all together like his shit didn’t stink. A drink was in his hand and a bottle nearby, while three women nearby offered him matronly glowers. At his feet, his Pokemon sat, chewing idly at marshmallow food while he drank and smirked and enjoyed his time.
And then the door to the bar swung open. The kid turned, gaze expectant, and leapt from his chair. He’d been waiting, they’d all been waiting. Things were safe, their world had been saved thanks to their efforts, and now all that was left for him to find his friend.]
And here he was.
Gold threw himself at the man, knocking him to the floor. He reached out, snatching a hat from a tousled bunch of red hair and shoving it back onto his own head.
“Took you long enough.”
[With the story written, Varric headed to the gathering. He’d recite what he’d written at some point, and set up the effigies for Guzma or whoever to have a grand old time with, but for the most part he was quiet, off in the corner. So far he’d condemned billions to die and sentenced a child to death. He was terrified of what the next week would bring.]
[At one point though, he would rise, approaching Elda with a fresh new piece of paper. He’d sit down across from her, and hold it out.]
I couldn’t think of anything for Kimbley. You knew him better so… I figured you might be able to help. [He offered her a weak smile.] Your stories were… they were something.
no subject
[He’s also had the time to get to his post-trial ritual, which he posts up on Gold’s profile in the foyer, as usual. Knowing as little as he did about the kid, it had been a struggle but… He hoped it might suffice.]
The kid sat at the bar, grinning and acting all together like his shit didn’t stink. A drink was in his hand and a bottle nearby, while three women nearby offered him matronly glowers. At his feet, his Pokemon sat, chewing idly at marshmallow food while he drank and smirked and enjoyed his time.
And then the door to the bar swung open. The kid turned, gaze expectant, and leapt from his chair. He’d been waiting, they’d all been waiting. Things were safe, their world had been saved thanks to their efforts, and now all that was left for him to find his friend.]
And here he was.
Gold threw himself at the man, knocking him to the floor. He reached out, snatching a hat from a tousled bunch of red hair and shoving it back onto his own head.
“Took you long enough.”
[With the story written, Varric headed to the gathering. He’d recite what he’d written at some point, and set up the effigies for Guzma or whoever to have a grand old time with, but for the most part he was quiet, off in the corner. So far he’d condemned billions to die and sentenced a child to death. He was terrified of what the next week would bring.]
[At one point though, he would rise, approaching Elda with a fresh new piece of paper. He’d sit down across from her, and hold it out.]
I couldn’t think of anything for Kimbley. You knew him better so… I figured you might be able to help. [He offered her a weak smile.] Your stories were… they were something.