[ While this entire cupcake battle was going on, Hawke had tried to hide out in Odin, doing his part. He was pretty sure that they turned out somewhat okay - but he wasn't a cook. He usually ordered anything that required mixing. This was something Orana might know about, but he was pretty clueless.

He also wanted someone to test them, and he wasn't sure he wanted to feed it to his companions. If it was bad, he'd never hear the end of it. If it was good he wouldn't hear the end of it. Which is why he was hoping for just "not deadly". ]

And you're not going to go out telling everyone how awful these are, right?

["Not deadly" is something they can both hope for. Hawke had also been hiding in Thor, attempting to make some more or less acceptable cupcakes that wouldn't be completely fatal to anyone who ate them. Funny tasting, maybe. Coma inducing, perhaps. But not deadly.

Still, there was no way she is going to let anyone she knows taste these. Ever. In all eternity.]

As long as you don't tell anyone how mine might just taste distinctly horrible, I can agree to that.

Right. [ He looks down at his tray of cupcakes... Some have icing, but most are... shameful. Hawke gives the tray a look of disdain. ] How should we do this? At the same time?

If we both do it at the same time, we can tell which ones are inedible once one of us starts choking. [...eyeing the cupcakes again, though. Maker help them, why are most of these cupcakes slightly deformed and funky looking?] --that, or we could both choke and die. It could go either way.

I guess I'd rather die at my own side. [ Chuckling, he reaches over and takes one of hers, offering his tray at the same time. ]

[Well...she's reaching over and grabbing one of his. This is either going to be completely horrible or passable, there is no other option.] Very well. Should I count up to three in order to increase the sense of dramatic timing?

Deal. [ He braces himself. He had grabbed the most edible looking one... ] If I die, give my... our friends my regards.

And if we both die, then our ghosts can haunt them forever while they ask themselves: 'why did we let them eat those cupcakes?' [Bringing it up close to her mouth now. Even the most edible looking ones don't look that... appetizing.] One, two, three...

[ With a wince, Hawke takes a bite on 'three', squeezing his eyes shut and hoping he doesn't suddenly seize.

It's... something, alright. He manages to stutter out the only thing that can come to mind. ] --Uh.

[She's... just going to take a second here after swallowing to try and identify the flavor in her mouth properly, and to wait for some adverse reaction before eloquently blurting out:] Ah.

I'm, uh. Well. It's very... [ He stops. HE CAN'T TALK ANYMORE. THE TASTE IS JUST... It's very consuming, and he's attempting not to vomit. ]

Very... [She stops talking as well, bringing her hand up to her mouth and--] Urp.

[AND THERE GOES THE FEED before the horror of these cupcakes can resurface.]

( ooc: joint post! blue is bearded!hawke while purple is unbearded!Hawke. posting order is a hassle so don't worry about that either, also pretend this happened earlier during the cupcake war. )

[ the screen flashes on mid-motion, while someone—fenris—is making an angry gesture, quick and sharp. it’s that which probably switched the bracelet on—that and the fact that he isn’t very used to the technology yet. ]

...of all people, that I had to be stuck here with you.

[ the camera shifts as his fingers twitch to show that he’s addressing anders—who notices the device’s activity before its owner and adjusts his posture accordingly, in order to be seen better. ]

You know, Fenris, that reminds me—general questions seem to turn up some interesting responses in this place, don’t they? Why don’t I give one of my own a go. Dear citizens: Is there anyone that you would not, under any circumstances whatsoever, wish to find yourself kidnapped with? Someone whose very presence is an offense to all you hold dear? [ oh, is that sneer on his face too apparent? what a shame. ] Just curious! No reason in particular.

[ fenris yanks his wrist back, neatly ruining the frame of the shot. performance has never been his strong suit, despite his penchant for theatrical speech. ]

Perhaps when Hawke finds us a way out of here, you can remain behind. Kidnapped all alone, just as you prefer.

[ and the curtain falls. ]

This place is a bit gloomy... and somehow too clean. So clean that I can't pick up on anything. It's creepy.

[ Defeated by the fact he can't pick up his friends' scent, he sighs. It doesn't help that he also roamed around all of Eventide to look for them, so he's pretty down in the dumps.

If one were to listen closely, they would be able to hear the sloppy shuffling and then--ACHOOO! ... An obvious loud sneeze. Some sniffling follows after and this sound of dragging feet across the snow. ]

How do people live with just clothes? [ Man, he misses his fur. At least his fluffy coat would make this feel more like a breeze than an ice age. ]

It's freezing. [ This end goes silent with teeth chattering before--meowwww. Then a huge thud. ]

[The video feed flickers to life, and there is a man with dark hair gazing at the "screen" for all to see.  There is something decidedly serpentine about the incline of his head, the way his lips are almost curled into a snarl, exposing a flash of white teeth before he speaks.

The man's voice itself is low, surprisingly so, for such a face;  almost as if there is the perpetual rumbling, the sound of gravel, at the back of the throat.]

Zok bein. Even my own tongue does not come to me as it should, as naturally as I breathe.  Instead my mind is filled with the muddled words of this foreign language, and my body weak.

[He then scoffs – the dry, humourless kind that could pass as a hiss.]

Who encases me in this prison of flesh, rips my Voice from my throat and takes away my wings? These "gods"? Meyye. I know nothing of these so-called gods.

[Man, he's just a bundle of sunshine, isn't he?]

In defeat, I have done nothing to warrant humiliation.

[Video on.]

--ker's breath, what is--

[Video off.

Video on.

Video off.

Video on.

This goes on for a few minutes, until it finally stops and Hawke is peering down at her bracelet and then back up at the holographic screen with the most perplexed look on her face. It's pretty clear she hasn't noticed this thing can, and is, recording her, because she just keeps on making witty retorts to herself while jabbing her hand at parts of the screen.]

Figures something like this would've happened. I suppose I should be so lucky that I haven't bumped into another crazy mage so far. Or a dragon, there's always a dragon around. [Sighs.] Perhaps I should invite these gods over to tea, as well. This kind of decorating isn't as cuddly and inviting as I'd expect for honored guests.

[The video is suddenly pointed at her chest. And feet. And the floor. And the wall across her. And basically pretty much everywhere except her face for the next couple of seconds, before it is shoved up to her face where it will only be recording her nose, pretty much, as she proceeds to flick the bracelet and camera several times. I hope you enjoy the sound of tapping, until the feed is cut off, at least.]

[ The teenage boy on the screen seems calm enough. He's not panicking or angry or anything. Just thoughtful. When he speaks, his voice is clear but has a soft, quiet tone to it. ]

Talking to people got me thinking. How many people here have saved the world before? Or maybe done something not as dramatic but still very important?

[ There's a pause, as if he's expecting immediate replies. He blinks when there are none. Right, time to continue. ]

It seems like many of us are from different worlds. But some of us are from the same world, but different times. Is there is anyone from Iwatodai or Port Island, Japan? If so, speak up and let me know what the date was when you left, please.

[ He nods once, goes to shut the feed off, then seems to think better of it for a moment. ] My name is Minato Arisato. Nice to meet you all.

[ The smile the video feed catches is more relieved than particularly welcoming. Maybe soon he'd be able to get some answers. ]

[ The first instinct is always the text. ]

sup ladies and gents and anybody in between
im gonna extend a generous hand here in saying in my everloving wisdom and say
what the actual fuck
pardon my oh so keen sense of language but these things just seem to keep happening dont they
its just another case of i warned you bout the holy city of asgard bro i told you dog
and yknow how badly id like to take this flawless looking letter seriously but
"the laughter and tears of all travellers"
ok so i want whoevers reading this shit to take a step back and picture me this
"the laughter and tears of dave strider"
irony hasnt got a hold down on me this time if i really want to poke my brains out
sounds like the title of one of a boy named egberts horribly bad movies
jesus a perfect scenario for one of those all is fine moments but then bam next thing you got a zombie apocalypse on your hands
i just want to know this isnt leading up to another apocalypse period ok
imma kindly ask you that there be no more surprises

[ Dave stops typing, his mouth twitches just slightly as he realizes that that last line would most likely not come true. He decides to switch to video then. So catch a boy, about 13, sitting in a dimly light room, his head looks blonde, he's got dark shades. There's no way you can see his eyes. He sighs a bit, then gets talking. His voice comes out smoothly, and if you listen hard enough and think about it long enough, you'll feel a rhythm. ]

I guess if I have to preserve this world, if I got to; then travellers with double 'l's, they better prepare -- and that's you guys watching. Y'know things like rapping, music, feeling the beats? Damn sure hope that counts towards all this attempt at restoration. This world will grow strong if people start feeling the liberal arts. Like feeling, feeeeling. One more time, get it; that kind of thing.

Oh, and if you don't know who I am, the name's Dave... Strider. Like I said, the laughter and tears. I just want to assure you that wisdom is my forte and I was a god in my past life. And If you can't prove me wrong... you can't prove me at all.

[ He winks, but you can't tell. No smile to give you the slightest hint. And the feed cuts off. ]

((ooc: opt-out of the text!))

[ After waking, listening to everything rather calmly, reading that letter and deciding that yeah, he was kidnapped, he's realised that the parts about the communication thing just went right over his head. In fact, he's just poking at it from outside of his assigned house (Odin) and muttering to... well, himself. Yeah, that might not be a good thing, talking to oneself, but - ]


--How did they manage to get past...[ pssshhhtt noises take over the video, which is... pointed at his feet. ] ...even worse than demon pirates at the beach... [ more noises, but hey, he's got it pointed at his head. for a second. ] --How is this thing even... [ the video drops down to the ground once more and the feed ends with Hawke sighing. ]

[The feed comes on to show Castiel, out somewhere in the drab grey-toned city. For those of you that met him before, he's no longer bloody, and just looks vaguely like a burn victim with various bandages across his face, neck, and hands. Also the clothes he's wearing are way too big, and he's stolen Sam Winchester's coat, which is just as oversized. It's cold outside, okay.

He doesn't seem bothered by any of this, though, straight to business.]

How many of you have spoken to the gods here? Those of you that have, what did they say?