The Amell Legacy: Transgressions

[Varric]

"Being angry is the best part?" Varric frowns. "I will admit that brains or education without purpose is lost on me, but it seems a strange thing, to judge rage and such over brains. Curious to hear your reasoning, if you are willing to share it."

[Marian Hawke]

She hesitates, shrugging a shoulder. "I don't think you'll understand, exactly," she warns him, but she continues anyway. "It's like... it's like, the Alydran part of me is like a dog, right? A mabari, even. Very smart, smarter than the other dogs. Loyal. Protective. But at the end of the day, it's going to do what you trained it to do. And if you train a mabari for work, put it through obedience, it's going to be obedient. It's going to want to please you. If you teach it the wrong things, it'll still dutifully follow them. And that's... fine, I guess. But the Zanon part of me is like a wolf, a dire wolf."

[Varric]

"Fierce, independant, loyal only to those they consider pack," Varric says slowly, drawing primarily from bard tales. "Sounds like anger is your... spark, your means of pushing yourself- but what're your goals, your motivation?"

[Marian Hawke]

"I want to be better," she says instantly. "Stronger. I want to be terrifying."

[Varric]

"To protect yourself? Or to protect others? To impose your will on others? To be able to do whatever you want? Just to be stronger and more powerful, for it's own sake?"

[Marian Hawke]

She glances away, ashamed. "Most of that," she admits. 

[Varric]

Varric just nods. "I think most people feel that way at least once in their lives. People that get shit on from great heights longer and more intensely." He scratches his chin thoughtfully. "Honestly? Probably a healthy reaction. Better, in my book, then swallowing it down and just taking it anyway."

[Marian Hawke]

"So you wouldn't be upset? If I did go Dark instead of Bright?"

[Varric]

"Well, there's Dark and then there's Dark. You start plotting to take over a city, create an unending storm or start beating people up for mildly disagreeing with you... then yeah, I'd be upset. You devote yourself to be better, to making a name so great and large that your mother is forced to fucking admit you exist? Let me know if I can help."

[Marian Hawke]

She nods. "Alright. Then that's settled."

[Varric]

"Good. I better go find Roland. In the mean time... try and distract yourself a bit," the dwarf says, tossing a pair of silver to her. "Then tomorrow, we can talk over gods and maybe brainstorm some ideas about goals, yeah?"

[Marian Hawke]

She nods, the silver immediately vanishing into her sleeve. "Alright. Thanks."

[Varric]

Good, no sign that her pride would cause her to reject honest help from a friend. Could work out fine. "See you in the morning then," he says as he heads off, whistling softly.

[Carver Amell]

By the time he gets back, Carver's not only managed to calm himself and change, he's also found the leash for Hunter so he can put the poor pup down. Over the course of the evening, he makes a number of discoveries: He's terrible at cards, he enjoys beer a little too much, and while he's not over-fond of whiskey just yet, he has a promising tolerance for a beginner. When the potion wears off partway through a hand, he notices, but he can't bring himself to care overly much. He pitches his voice lower as best he can and keeps playing like a champ, holding his head high as he does. 

Perhaps his tolerance isn't quite as high as he leads them to believe.

Either way, he enjoys himself. It's easily the happiest they've seen him all trip. The next morning, when he doesn't rise at his usual early hour, it's cause for concern. What if the backlash from the night's fun has sent him into a tailspin?

It falls to Beth to shake him awake, just in case. His eyes flutter open slowly, his face bearing the usual dull expression she's become accustomed to seeing on her twin's face first thing in the morning. Then, as the memories hit him, he wrinkles his nose a bit, letting out a soft groan that turns into a yawn.

"Beth?" he mumbles, sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. 

[Bethany]

"Yep. And you are annoying not hungover," she observes, wrinkling her nose. She's still in her sleepwear, though thankfully has a robe over her underwear and her hair is messy. Must have just woken up herself. "How's your head? Stomach okay? Varric arranged for tea, porridge and melon to be sent up- that's the only reason why I'm up, to be honest. You think you-"