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You're Under... A Desk [Closed]


Active member
Canon Character
“He owes you an apolo…” Merrill was already finding ways to tell Aveline that it really was fine and that she didn't need an apology when the man lunged at her friend in a fit that could only be described as scarf frenzy. She didn't necessarily blame him—it was a very nice scarf—but Merrill also failed to suppress a grimace. Lunging at people in general was a bad thing, but lunging at Aveline never ended well.

It was at this point that Merrill realized that, oh, he wasn't lunging at Aveline at all. He was lunging at her. The elf found herself caught between two impulses. The lighter and kinder was to simply turn and run; confrontation never really suited her and the man was rather big. The crueler part of her knew that with a few gestures, she could easily tangle him in weeds or make his blood literally boil. Of course, that would also mean lots of Templars and sword and that wouldn't have been good at all. Merrill winced and recoiled, darting back only for Aveline to rise into view and sock the man right in his stomach. There was a sort of gasping exhale, followed by wide eyes and a tumbling sound. When Merrill opened her eyes, there was nothing except Aveline, her triumph, and the scarf-less man's doubled over form.

"Oh, I am so, so sorry," Merrill reflexively said to the man. He gave wheezing hack in response.

“I know you wanted to do this as painlessly as possible, but there was no way I was going to let him hit you. He’s added assault to his crime list now, so…”
Guards began to clamber to the scene, “.. he’ll be spending some time in the cells.”

Merrill paused, thinking something over and looking back and forth from the man to the scarf in her hand. It took perhaps a minute or more, but the elf gave a resigned sigh and bounded over to the half-conscious man. Giving a little hop to reach the man's neck, she wrapped the scarf around him before walking away. Maybe it was a cruel thing to do, maybe Aveline would tell her that he couldn't keep the scarf, but it felt the right thing to do. Whatever the reason, he cared for the scarf. Maybe it reminded him of a lost sibling, maybe it was one of the only bits of comfort he'd found in Kirwall. So Merrill left it with him and returned to Aveline.

"He's still going to jail though,"
Merrill said sadly, glancing at her fellow elf. "For all the fighting. Is there... Is there a way to make sure everyone's nice to him?"