trusthell | And it's the stars, the stars that lie to you.

And it's the stars, the stars that lie to you.

[This week, Varric opted to take a page from Vanille’s book. Gathering everyone together after the roller-coaster that the first trial had been proved to be somewhat cathartic for himself. He hoped that it would prove to do the same for the others.]

[He wasn’t alone, of course, having found himself blessed with the most ragtag team of chefs and party-planners. He might have had words for and thoughts on Elda and Kimbley, Mikazuki was welcome company, and he wasn’t about to turn away potential allies, even in a fight as simple as cooking dinner.]

[Once everyone’s set to a task, baking a cake, brewing tea, or stirring stew (the only task Varric could think to assign Elda to), Varric excused himself to his room. His first task was writing up cards, each personally titled and signed by Varric.]

Food in the Library. 5 p.m. Don’t spend the night alone.

[Each note was slid under a door and accompanied by a single rap on the wood.]

[With his tasks completed, Varric returned to the kitchen to put out any potential fires and, with luck, set the food out. A table in the library would be adorned with plenty of tea, cake, pancakes courtesy of Viktor, and stew thanks mostly to Varric (sorry, Elda).]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ So cooking is weird. And Elda decided that she doesn't like it at all but she might try it just because she's a little bit bored, or at least...

... Bored wasn't the right word.

She decided to help them set up this "party" mostly because she figured that those youngsters who did it last time weren't going to this time. They all seemed upset, and she knew that the weight of the trial was something which had been suffocating all of them. She's included in that, of course, but the old woman was long, long since used to hardship. Alani wasn't a friend, wasn't even a member of the same species. Neither was Christo. And because of that, she could handle this, so much so that she even bothered to try and help cook. Hell, she might've even tried to make her own cookies! (they're awful, don't try them).

Either way, in the library with a chair pulled up to seat herself, the old woman will try to make herself the life of this. She's brought all of her generic items she got from the vending machine for people to play with and seems to be using duct tape and a sharpie to try and make... playing cards? ... Is that even worth it?

...

Either way, she's there and has all that going on as well as a cup filled with BLOOD that she got from the infirmary. She might yet ask Kimbley or Hanyuu or Guzma or someone to let her bite them, but she's content to have this overly sharp taste in her mouth for tonight. ]

[Silver takes note of all of her, well, stuff.

...And then he silently leaves the room, emerging sometime later with his gaming machine.]

We can take turns.

[ . . . Uuuuh ]

What's that thing?

[...This is the part where he says "nothing" and haggles for her presumably useless piece of plastic.

...

Or he would, if he were in the mood. Instead, he points to her game.]

Let me see that.

Sure?

[ She hands him the disc-cartridge-whatever... ]

[Excellent.

He sits down next to Elda and pops the cartridge into his system, then turns it on; turns out that it's some old fashioned shoot the swarms game featuring your big ass god hand at the top of the screen.

He's content to play it in silence; this is the most exciting thing he's had the chance to do in a while, and hell if he isn't going to enjoy the break from... You know, thinking about tense stuff.]

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