Hazelnuts and plaid

[Varric]

Helene pause mid-notation. "...clarify and expand."

[Marian Hawke]

"I mean, we go out every Aquaday and most Silvadays, and there's the usual Metalladay study session and we go out after that, and I usually drink at least once with Clan during the week depending on my mood, and then there's every other Caeladay when Joni takes me out bowling, and there's Karaoke nights with Maryanne and Susie, and... you know, stuff like that."

[Varric]

"Please explain why the activities 'bowling' and 'karaoke' require you to consume near-lethal levels of alcohol."

[Marian Hawke]

"Hardly near-lethal. Like I said, I'm a lightweight. It only takes a few cocktails to put me under."

[Varric]

Helene's hands tighten into fists around nir quill and paper. "The state of blacking out is caused by the hippocampus suffering a critical failure due to a chemical reaction in the brain leading to the production of unnecessary-- and dangerous-- steroids in place of the normal neurotransmitters that allow for memory retention." Ne takes a step forward.  "The amount of alcohol needed for this process to occur is not only heavily taxing on your liver, kidneys and stomach, but also causes permanent damage to the brain as a whole. Each case of blacking out carries an increasing risk of degrading your ability to retain and retrieve memories even while sober, as well as other forms of brain damage." The quill is thrust towards Marian, Helene's voice shaking. "Finally, all of that combines into multiple methods in which you could die, ranging from liver failure to stroke to heart attack. And also by misadventure while drunk, as being inebriated to the degree needed to blackout also greatly reduces judgement, critical thinking, balance, motor control, visual acuity and emotional regulation."

[Marian Hawke]

"So you've said." She makes a 'tsk' noise that shows what little weight she gives this lecture. 

[Varric]

Helene slams a hand down on the table. "Then fucking listen!"

[Marian Hawke]

Now she jumps, remembering that this is Zevran, not Helene after all. Although it doesn't sound like him either. It sounds almost... but no, he'd never swear like that. She swallows, then swallows again, fighting with her grief for a moment's space. 

"Hawke. We just want the best for you," says Isabela softly.

Hawke says nothing, looking away, unwilling to budge. 

[Varric]

A small blue hand grabs her by the chin and yanks her head back around, succeeding more to shock than the strength of the grip. "When did you start hating our Clan?" ne demands.

[Marian Hawke]

Shocked by the touch through the bars, by the rough contact, Marian answers more honestly than she means to: "When it became a constant reminder."

[Varric]

Helene's fingers fall away from her skin and ne staggers back with an ashen blue face.

[Marian Hawke]

Hawke winces. "I don't-- I don't really hate you," she whispers, cheeks burning with shame. "It just hurts so fucking bad. When you all start pitying me, when you all baby me, act like I'm not a grown adult who can make my own choices. When we call a family meeting and he's not there. This whole clan was his idea, his baby more than mine, and I love each of you on your own, but I just can't deal with the whole clan being set against me like this."

[Varric]

"We are not against you," Helene hisses, pale white eyes wet. "Our behavior is--" Ne swallows, looking uncomfortable and bewildered. "We disagree with your choices. You are killing yourself, drink by drink, and making us all watch. Refusing to accept help or comfort." A sharp slash of nir hand indicates Isabela. "How would you feel if Isabela decided to start working out her grief about-- about whatever by bashing her head against stone until she passes out twice or thrice weekly?"

[Marian Hawke]

"I'm not making you watch! How many times have I said to stop, to leave me alone, to piss off and let me drink in peace?"

[Varric]

"Because they're better than me!"