thisavrou

Tell me friends. Are there those of you who find it difficult to forgive another? I am curious. For personal reasons -- there is no judgment here.

sketchycharacter

['sup everyone. It's your friendly historianerd here today, speaking into his TAB from...somewhere kinda high, judging by the background.]

I've been doing some exploring in Region Five lately, and I think I figured something out—everyone who came from the Moira, we're not the first humans to get here. [He laughs.] Well, obviously—there are other people who look like us. But it's not some sci-fi TV show thing where they're just aliens who happened to look the same. Check it out.

[He angles the TAB camera around, and it becomes clear that high is high—not skyscraper-level, but Nate has scaled some centrally-located building with a good view of various streets.]

Over there—Victorian houses right next to Edwardian ones, like the block is showing the passage of time. Couple streets over [the camera swings around] and you've got the late Italian. That's just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to architecture.

And on some of the nicer streets and in parks there's Colombian statuary from mid-1700s, some Greek stuff—I did some sketches if anyone wants to see. [No one does. Probably.] it's the real thing, too, the actual style and not some fake imitation bullshit.

It's not that surprising, right? Ingresses existed before we ever showed up on the Moira, so they probably grabbed people from Earth before we ended up here, too. The point is, this planet isn't just a crossroads of culture, it's a crossroads of history, too. If people brought their architecture and their art, they brought all kinds of other knowledge too, things that might not have made it into the historical record, at least not in detail. We should take advantage of that. I've already seen one library that's as big as the Moira's, if not bigger—I'm gonna go exploring there once I get down from here.

[So this is basically an overly excited PSA for the local Kauto library, apparently.]

flynnitomite

Now that we're getting all cozy and settled in here, it has occurred to me that I'm without some of my kit from back home, and I'm starting to feel a little naked without it.

I'm thinking of doing a little DIY to rectify that, so if anyone would be a dear and is willing to part with:

- windshield wipers
- hose clamps
- old brassieres (underwire only)
- a propane torch
- pliers
- a grinder

I'd be grateful and maybe even inclined to owe you a favour.

EDIT:

A GUN WOULD BE NICE TOO :)))

tearsinajar

I feel like, with everything that's going on, I've lost track of time.

I mean, we've been on a ship for so long, we've gone on a few planet trips, and then there was that whole— [ Elena waves a hand, dismissive. Only because that's a difficult one to process. ] —year thing. Or at least I think it was a year.

Not only that but we've gone and swapped out captains, most of us have survived a ship crash landing or two, and Lord knows what else.

But in all of that— and yes, there's a point to this— how are you supposed to celebrate a birthday when you've barely had any time to sit down and process everything? When you sit down and keep asking yourself, "What day is it?" or "What month are we at?" or better yet— "How old am I again?"

[ Like the song What's my age again? ]

I really doubt this place has a bar with decent male strippers.

[ A tiny pause. She makes a face. Oh god. ]

...what if they're alien male strippers? What am I supposed to do with that?

tearsinajar

It occurred to me the other day that I haven't had a chance to write anything, and that's, to me, a little depressing. There's been so much here that's happened, not just to myself and the friends I've made, but to everyone else. To you.

My day job, back home, for those of you who don't know me, it deals with investigative journalism. I write to uncover the truth, to shed light on scenarios that are otherwise dark and bleak.

Since I got here, everything has been nothing but a whirlwind of events. Each month there's been something new; whether it's stopping off at various planets, or it's daily occurrences on the ship. [ RIP Moira. ] There hasn't been time for me to sit down and write it all out.

[ Elena pauses and her eyes drift downward, off to the left. For those who knew about the incident with the Descendants, how she'd walked away from that moment on the ship with her left arm broken and bleeding out where it'd bitten her...she no longer wears a splint and padded cast. There's no visible sling. It's almost as though none of that had ever happened.

An injury as deep as that, bones needed time to mend. They needed a full two months. It's been less than that.

It shows that she's trying to think of how to word what she wants to say next, without giving anything away. ]

I'm interested in writing about abilities. [ Here she looks up, looks directly into the TAB camera. ] I'm interested in learning about them.

If you're comfortable with discussing this, that's great. I'm available for one-on-one meetings, if you would prefer, or you can reach me privately through the messaging system.

Also, if you're interested in learning more about the stories I've done, I won't mind sharing. Ask me anything you'd like.

[ Except you, Flynn. ]

neverheardofhim

[Varric had lost track of the days he'd been on this backwater planet. New time systems and science involving orbits and science the likes of which he'd never had the time for made him feel a bit... temporally lost. He'd spent most of his time fiddling with his new devices, wandering about and grousing about how he was effectively useless, thanks to his weapon being strapped to his back.]

[But there was one thing missing.]

[He'd done enough fucking around to figure out just how the TAB worked. He'd experimented by sending a few small videos to the contacts he'd gathered up -- mostly insisting that the Hawke's eat their meals and drink whatever water they could find. The usual stuff.]

[Now it was time to get down to the important business. The feed clicked on, with Varric's face perfectly in view. He gave the device both a crooked smile and a nod of acknowledgement.]

A message to whoever's listening. You don't know me, I don't know you. That's all well and good, but I make a living off of knowing people. [Varric lifted a bottle of clear liquid into view.] So. What better way to bond than over a drink or two?

[He lifted the bottle to his lips, taking a long swig from it. When he looked back, his lips cracked into a grin.]

You can have a bottle all for yourself if you do me just one favor. Find me a quill, some ink and a decent notebook, and it's all yours.

Entries tagged with uncharted: harry flynn

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Quest 001: A Favor for a Favor