Hazelnuts and plaid

[Marian Hawke]

"Three months ago."

[Varric]

"Three months?" Helene says sharply, heading coming up. "You mixed it three months ago?"

[Marian Hawke]

"Yes? Why?"

[Varric]

"What kind of juice?" A half-beat of silence. "And what sort of vessel?"

[Marian Hawke]

"Cranberry juice." Merrill's favorite. "Glass. But I stored it in the dark, so it wouldn't degrade."

[Varric]

"Juice is acidic," Helene says simply. "Cranberry decidedly so. If the poison was still potent after nearly sixty days in those condition, that narrows down the possibilities significantly. Thank you." Ne clears nir throat, nodding slightly. "Have you met anyone new, roughly around the time you started having these ideations or acquired the poison, who you are still in contact with? Or whom you spent a great deal of time with at that time?"

[Marian Hawke]

"No, I don't think so. Not out of the ordinary. I started school, obviously, but that wasn't around the time I started having ideations and the poison was acquired on a long weekend away."

[Varric]

"So no-one stands out? Has anyone encouraged or romanticized death or self-harm to you? Directly or indirectly?"

[Marian Hawke]

"What? No, of course not."

[Varric]

"Not even via dramatic or poetic means? Poems about death or the like?"

[Marian Hawke]

"We're not big on poetry in my group. No."

[Varric]

"Understood." Helene hums softly, then nods. "How you experienced any lost time? Or remembered an event significantly different than others you trust that were present?"

[Marian Hawke]

"The only time I'm missing is when I'm drunk. I am a bit of a lightweight."

[Varric]

"And the opposite? Times when you recalled or thought you had done something but had not actually done so?"

[Marian Hawke]

"No."

"How often do you get blackout drunk?" asks Isabela. 

"Uh... I don't keep track?"

"Guess."

"Three, four times a week?"