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the inquisitor | dragon age: inquisition

[propheretic]

lockers;

[Well, one thing is clear: he's out of his depth. Managing the pods and the showers was trial enough, but he's at a complete loss as he stands in front of his locker. It has almost nothing in it: the jumpsuit, a curious device of unknown function, and -- the simple, perfunctory outfit he wore while managing things in Skyhold. No robes; no staff, obviously, though it wasn't technically required.

He rummages in the locker for a few moments, hoping to find an amulet or a ring or something--maybe a potion? But no. He's got nothing.

He exhales in mild irritation, takes his 'official' uniform rather than the provided jumpsuit, and grabs the slim, strange device also. Seems important.

Dasha squints for a few more moments into the darkness of the locker, as if trying to will more useful items to appear.

Green light flickers around his left palm, as though reacting to his concentration -- or possibly something else entirely.

He mutters.]

I'd say, at least you're here, but I doubt that's a good thing.

halls;

[Now fully clothed, but no more enlightened, Dasha walks cautiously through the mostly silent labyrinth of the ship. He knows that he is not the Fade; he has too much experience with that place to think otherwise. No, he's been drawn somewhere new, somewhere unknown. The structure of this place is unlike anything he's seen before--stark and streamlined and distinctly mechanical.

A spit of flame forms in his palm, just enough to light the way as he walks on, in search of someone to speak to, or at least somewhere to sit and think.]

wildcard;

[Wherever/whatever else!]

Re: the inquisitor | dragon age: inquisition

[harillen]

[It's the flickering green light that draws Solas's attention. He's been lingering in one corner of the locker room, disturbed and confused by everything happening. But then he sees he light.

He can't be excited. There is no love lost between him and the Inquisitor. But at least the Inquisitor is familiar.

Stepping from the shadows, he comes slowly around a row of lockers.]

Inquisi-- [He stops, completely taken off guard. The elf standing before the lockers speaks, and the voice is wrong. All wrong.

This elf, this man is not the Inquisitor.]

Halls

[fade_away]

Inquisitor?

[Cole has that way of just being someplace, whether or not you were looking for him. Possibly specifically when you thought he was certainly not there, movement just outside of your peripheral vision solidifying into the scarecrow-like young man.

He looks to the Inquisitor's left hand, then back up at his face. Then at his hand again. Then at his face. He wrings his hands together slightly.]

You are taller. And more male.

[undyingbeliefs]

[It's obviously the flame that catches Evangeline's attention, the light bouncing from the walls oddly and unlike the other fixtures on the ship. It might be a distraction, but if it goes too far then she'll simply turn around.

When she catches up to find a person she remains wary, but at least it isn't just some illusion or other. She's still a templar and these are still possible concerns.]

Lost?

lockers!

[troops]

[Every jump seems to bring someone new from Thedas- not that Cullen is exactly complaining. It gives him reason to look for any familiar faces after getting his things in order, and the more allies they can get from their world on this space ship, the better.

Which is why, when he catches sight of the green glow against the man's palm, Cullen's heart skips a beat and he steps forward, shouldering past a few of the others still getting their bearings. If the Inquisitor is here, then that's- that's good, really. Cullen has tried to keep things together, prevent fights from breaking out among the others, but what they really need is a leader. If the Inquisitor is here, then that means-]

..Inquisitor?

[-well, it means that things are hopefully going to start falling into place. Maker only knows, they couldn't get much worse.]

lockers

[sparkler]

[That light - it would attract anyone's attention, particularly in the cold sterility of the locker room. Dorian was on his way to his own locker, mind on other things, when he caught sight of that flash of green out of the corner of his eye. It draws his attention instantly, the strange familiarity of it jarring.

He stops, turns, decides that investigation must be done, even if he is half naked. It's becoming unfortunately normal since he arrived here.

Dorian approaches, careful. It must be the Inquisitor, it can't be anyone else. Not with that, glowing so eerily. But - this seems strange.]

What an unexpected sight.

diana meade, the secret circle

[virtuosities]

lockers;
[ She wasn't expecting this. Tattoos, space, goo-- no, none of this were Diana's first choice (or her second or third or). She even looks miserable, seated at her locker and unzipping her suitcases. At least her things had come with her, for better or for worse. She's super precise about how she'd refolding her clothes and putting them back into her suitcase, in what's probably a vain attempt to fit the jumpsuit in there, too. ]


etc;
[ Leave a prompt! ]

[harillen]

[He's leaving the locker room when he sees her. Pausing, he watches her fold her clothes for a moment. Then, clearing his throat, he takes a step toward her.]

Would you like assistance?

shane walsh | the walking dead

[lambasting]

[ lockers ]

[ Waking up in some thing full of shit, butt naked and disoriented, wasn't Shane's idea of fun. He'd been through so much already, been taken straight from Hell in North Georgia to Somarium (where he had been moderately happy), and now this? It's shit, yeah, but he'll manage. He managed when the world went to hell and he'll manage now.

He makes it to the showers, cleans the shit off, and finds his locker - his clothes, boots, his Glock, and his Mossberg. ]

I guess this ain't too bad.

hmm let's see which icons i have. also i'm rusty as fuq so deal w/it

[nailknots]

Could be a hell of a lot worse. [ the casual agreement comes from off to his eight-o'-clock, where andrea's wrapped in a towel and following the number on her arm to the locker it matches. looks like she's just a couple down from shane - she glances to the number and then the locker to confirm, then swipes her forearm experimentally over the lock like she's seen a half-dozen others do with their own lockers. it pops open, and as she collects her clothes she turns her eyes on shane again. ]

Think this makes us astronauts? [ it's dry, because 'astronaut' is basically the farthest from anything either of them ever thought they'd be back in georgia. ]

[cabbagepatching]

[Travis is more used to it this time, and it's extra sweet because Wes has to deal with their dog, Hudson, this time. So Travis showers quickly and slips on his clothes. He's just shrugging on his leather jacket when he overhears the other man a few lockers away.

He isn't bad-looking, and flirting comes second nature to Travis, so the first thing that pops out of his mouth is:] Ain't bad at all with the right company.

[He gives him a quick look-over, nothing too overt, before returning his attention to his locker.]

solas :: dragon age inquisition

[harillen]

[ gardens ]

[In his ragged robes, Solas leaves the locker rooms and heads immediately for the gardens. He feels no need to acquaint himself with his rooms; he has no intention of spending any time there. Nor has he any intention of doing much more than acclimating to this place in the most rudimentary of ways.

A ship. Like no ship he's ever seen.

He pays only fleeting attention to the twisting paths he takes to the gardens, following the directions given to him by a passing crew member in one of those uncomfortable looking jumpsuits. His clothes might be worn and stained, but they are comfortable. Familiar. He will not change out of them, not yet.

When he reaches the gardens, he doesn't go very far inside. Instead, he sits near the entrance, removing the wraps around his feet, and sinks his toes into the grass.]

One must find familiarity where one can, I suppose. [He regards a nearby tree with a small measure of curiosity.] A shame I will likely be unable to dream here.

[undyingbeliefs]

[Admittedly, Evangeline doesn't know the entire ship as well as she'd like. The gardens for one, aren't so known to her, she simply just hasn't had a reason to go.

She attempts to venture there when there are likely to be less people, when most might be sleeping although how the days and hours work are still something she's uncertain of. But from the lack of people wandering the halls she can make a good enough guess.

Despite her efforts there is still someone present. She hears them at first, wondering if there is more than one person, but when she investigates she finds it's just the one. Well, that's mildly concerning. Rather than sneak awkwardly away (or as sneaky as someone in full-plate templar armor can manage) she decides to approach.]

I apologize, am I intruding?

yesssssssss

[fade_away]

[Cole is already in the gardens. The green is familiar. He likes it there, the way it hums with life and warmth, breathes like lungs for the Tranquility. People come here to feel better, so Cole likes to lurk here as well. It's easier to help and vanish here.

He is listening, always listening, humming with the low song that he used to think was the ship itself before he met Death. It's a comforting ancient song too big to understand but none the less present.

He doesn't see Solas, but he feels him, hears him, the familiar notes of song, the way the he moves through the harmonies. Cole pauses, listening further, because - because he wants to see his friend so badly he thinks maybe he might be hearing things, maybe this is someone else who sounds like him. His feet find the paths on their own, picking through the twisting walkways towards -

Yes, it's him. First Rhys and Evangeline, now Solas, this place might be unfamiliar and strange but all the people he loves are arriving and he couldn't be happier.]

Solas!

[troops]

[Sebastian tends to visit the gardens often, and Cullen is aware that some of the others view them as a place of respite. He enjoys them for what they are- the greenery is reassuring, reminds him a little of home, but it's not really a place that he can spend a lot of time in. Still, if he wants to go looking for anyone from Thedas, his best bets tend to be either the gardens or the bar.

It's the former that he steps into today, taking a deep breath of the fresh air before starting to wander a little, finding a path through that he hadn't yet taken. He hasn't gone for particularly long before he catches sight of Solas out of the corner of his eye and makes his way toward him. Ordinarily, Cullen might not have much to say to the elven apostate, but when there are so few of those from Thedas on this ship, any familiar face he sees is a welcome one.]

Solas.

[He says the man's name gently as he steps onto the grass, leaving wet footprints under his boots.]

I didn't know you had arrived.

[sparkler]

[Dorian spends a reasonable amount of time in the gardens, when he's not in the library or the bar. It's pleasant to pretend for a few moments that he's not stuck on this ship, that he can walk around and breathe real air and look up at the sky.

It doesn't last, but it's nice for a moment or two.

He's on his way out when he spots a familiar figure by the entrance. His eyebrows rise in brief astonishment, but he shouldn't be too surprised, now should be? It seems that nearly anything can happen here.]

Yours is a face I didn't expect to see here, Solas.

david nolan/prince charming | once upon a time

[weareboth]

blue goo;
[ david nolan has had better mornings. or, rather, better post-curse rousings. though, honestly, it's still kind of hard to beat amnesiac coma patient wandering the forest in the middle of the night, but, whatever. falling out of some kind of weird sleep pod, after having a tube none-too-gently extracted from his throat, and collapsing to the floor to cough up a whole lot of something blue and viscose is one to be remarked on. it does taking him a few minutes to get past the whole... that. however, eventually, david's eyes do find his surroundings. ]

This... is not a forest. [ few hacks and a couple coughs later, david's turning to sit on the floor, rather than hang out doubled over and near collapsed while he throws up gross, blue liquid. ] This is a... really invasive Mac store.

[ shut up, david, you barely know what a Mac is. which, actually, is sort of fitting for the situation. in his time, prince charming has seen a lot of weirdness, from the bizarre to the utterly unreal. this? this is new. and definitely pressing for the new record on strangeness. a beat later, someone completely bare-assed goes pacing nonchalantly past him, and wry confusion morphs to bewilderment. it's a nudist Mac store. which, is about when david notices it's particularly drafty, and takes a moment to actually check his own attire, or lack thereof. ]

...And I had more clothes than this.

[ the closest portable thing david finds - towel, bit of machinery, futuristic decor - is going to be snatched up and used as a flimsy attempt to preserve his dignity, thank you very much. or, at least, give him some ounce of decency while he aggresively avoids looking at anyone else around him. this is the very definition of awkward. ]


lockers;

[ community space showers. that's an experience. by now, he's gotten a bit more information on where he is and why he had a tube in his throat. while things aren't as traumatizingly strange anymore, there's still a lot of things unanswered, but he at least has enough to work from to start the search for his family. after he gets some pants, at least.

he finds his locker with a bit of searching, and sets to picking through it, giving the jumpsuit a wary eye before setting it aside in favor of the more familiar clothes folded up nearby. aside from that, there's several other familiar things waiting. his sword, a phone that doesn't turn on, a wallet, his sheriff's badge, gun and holster. the only thing that's really sticking out oddly... ]

Of course. [ is a slice of Granny's pecan pie, sitting innocently on the top shelf of the locker, with a fork. david is shooting this pie the flattest of looks, as he tugs it out. ] Just what I needed.

[ well, at least he won't be hungry. ]


halls;

[ after acquiring his belongings and... pie... david's making it out into the ship, beginning his search. the last he saw his daughter and grandson, they were traveling over the town line into a new life, without the rest of them, or so much as memories of the parents that adored them. it's a stabbing ache in his chest to remember the sight, but he has to remind himself that emma's going on to a happy life, with henry. without them, but she still has family. she has a future. it was her best chance.

his wife, however, was at his side. as were his friends, the majority of his kingdom. now, nowhere to be found. that's the first order of his business. once he finds mary margaret, the rest is details, just as it's always been.

so, apologies, if you're being approached by a man in modern clothes, toting a medieval looking sword, and carrying a plate of absolutely delicious looking pecan pie, stepping out in front of you with a genuinely warm smile. ]

Hey-- Hi, sorry to bug you. Could I trouble you for a little help? The whole space colony scene's a little new to me.


[[ ooc; for canon point, i'm going with season 3B, sans memories of the last year, for the sake of simplicity. also, sorry about the pie. it's sort of tradition 8| ]]

HEY BUDDY also blue goo

[capsize]

[ First bit of good news is that David doesn't have to go far to find a towel. A clean one's tossed unceremoniously at his head right as he finishes up the observation about his clothes (or lack thereof), accompanied by a familiar voice. ]

Cover up, will you? I think your daughter's had enough trauma the past few months to last her a lifetime. Or several.

[ No need to add to the list. Hook's already dressed, the only lingering trace of his ungraceful fall from the pods being a bit a dampness in his hair. The outfit's a bit off from what David last saw him in — all black, bit of leather, but it's an altogether modern take on it. He's graduated to wearing actual jeans, for one.

He stops a few paces off, expression somewhere between amused and sympathetic as he gestures to the room at large with his hook. ]

Welcome to space, mate.

Krem // Dragon Age

[charges]

[Lockers]

[Krem is eager to cover up, and thankfully it seems that his preferences have been at least remembered. There's a pair of undershorts for him, and he quickly slips into them, pulling a little face and cussing to himself, muttering in Tevene that if he has to wander around with his breasts unbound he's not going to be very pleased is the gist of it, with more obscineties laced through it.

Luckily, he sifts through the clothing and there's a stretchy undershirt. It takes him the better part of three minutes to get it on, but it's a godsend when he does- better than the shirts he sewed for himself back in Thedas.

Krem slips the rest of the clothes on, patting himself a bit and pulling a face. It wasn't armor, but...it would have to do.

And that's when he turns and spots someone.]

Ah...'ello. How long have ya been there?

[Maker's tits he really didn't want to have to go over all of this right now, not when he just got here.]

[Halls]

[And through the halls, comeone someone who carries himself completely like a soldier. He's just a little bit shorter than most of the other guys here, but that doesn't matter. He makes up for it.

He walks up behind someone, tapping them on the shoulder.]

Pardon, got any idea where one can find a drink around here?

[He could really go for one.]

lockers~

[fade_away]

[Clothing is difficult.

Admittedly Cole is getting better with practice, but he's still stuck in his tunic again. And his laces are untied. In short, he is a mess. But at least he's clean.]

... Lieutenant Cremisius Aclassi?

[He has to turn to the sound of Krem's voice.]

Is the Iron Bull with you? A boy in a box had questions about dragons...

[These are important things to ask when one's arms and head is caught in a shirt, tuft of blonde hair just barely visible through the hole for the neck.]

Eugene Sims (Good Karma) || inFAMOUS: Second Son

[sim_ulations]

(Halls)


[ There's something to be said for waking up in some weird pod with a tube down your throat, coughing up gross blue goo and realizing you're not wearing a god damn thing. That something is 'this really fucking sucks.'

Thankfully, no one was there when this happened and Eugene Sims could clean up and find clothes as he tried to figure out where the hell he was.

The very last thing the poor kid remembered was falling into the Pugit Sound, encased in concrete. Eugene isn't at all sure he survived it, because this is very much so Not Washington.

This was also not what he expected Heaven or Hell to look like, but that's not really relevant. He's not sure he believes in either save for the Heaven and Hell in Heaven's Hellfire

Would someone kindly help the shaken young man trying to find answers as he wanders the halls? ]

Eugeeeeeeene

[troops]

[Hey kid, how do you feel about meeting a dude who looks like he walked right out of a fantasy novel? ...because you're going to. Sorry.

Cullen isn't in full armor, but the breastplate, shoulders, arms, and the sword at his belt should give enough of an idea of the type of world he's used to. Spoiler alert: it's not this one. Nevertheless, he's been here long enough that he's gotten, more or less, used to his surroundings. Noticing new people is easy- just look for the wide-eyed shaken ones. It's about that time again, so Cullen heads to the halls, and no sooner does he start looking than he finds this kid.

Appearances aren't everything, but Eugene's oversized sweatshirt and glasses still gives Cullen pause- not much, but a moment's hesitation before he steps forward, inclining his head slightly.]

...are you alright?

Wednesday Addams | Addams Family Values

[poisongirl]

Lockers

[The pale girl with long pigtails stands in her towel, staring at the tattoo on her arm with a lack of expression.]

I've been branded. Have they decided that I'm a witch then?

[She slowly dresses, mulling over the implications.]

I fail to see how they could possibly know. [She hasn't even started learning hexes properly, after all.]

Hallways
[After dressing and sticking to the soothing darkness of the halls, Wednesday has taken to discovering what she wants about this place. Unfortunately, the little black cloud of sunshine is unable to get into many of the departments and she doesn't do greenery.

Are you walking close by? Because if so, she is there to pop out of the shadows.]

Hallways

[likescats]

[Just roaming the hallways. And suddenly a child.]

HELLO THERE.

katniss everdeen ( thg ) tentatively post-catching fire

[miners]

( pods )

[ of course her first reaction is to assume the capitol has captured her.

as the tube slides out of her throat and fluid drains from the grav couch, katniss is already preparing to fight. who knows what is going to be waiting for her out there? her fists are curled in taut little balls, muscles tense, and when she's deposited out of the pod she--

...well. she promptly collapses ungracefully onto the floor without warning, knees giving out immediately. she coughs out the last of the goo, hands braced against the floor as she tries to forcibly will her muscles back into gear. it's not the easiest job in the world, and she's very conscious the whole time that she could be looking at a sedative any moment now - and in fact, it's almost a little suspicious that it hasn't come yet, while she's vulnerable like this. that should be the first clue that this isn't the work of the capitol, but she isn't thinking that logically yet.

her first reaction on finding her feet is to snatch up a towel, clutching it uselessly to her front with her left hand as her right one catches hold of the closest arm to her and grips as tight as she can manage. ]

Where am I?

[ she's aiming for a menacing snarl, but the execution falls flat and it just comes out as something more like a raspy whine. ]

( lockers )

[ she hasn't actually opened her locker yet. instead she's just sitting on the bench, staring at it as though waiting for something to happen. finally her gaze drops, to her arms instead of the locker across from her. one arm bears the nanites now coded into her skin, the other a nasty, ugly cut curving across her inner elbow where a tracker had not long been removed. her expression while looking across both marks is...completely blank, and finally she exhales in a loud huff and stands instead.

when the locker pops open and her bow is the first thing to fall out, katniss actually cracks something vaguely resembling a smile. the whole situation screams Capitol to her, but if she's armed- well, that's their mistake. Everything else gets left behind as she pulls out an arrow and immediately strings it, turning sharply with the intentions of heading straight for the exit.

in a towel. with nothing but a bow and arrow to protect herself.

listen she's not exactly well known for her planning skills. ]

( wildcard )

[[ showers! hallways! u can have whatever u like ]]

claws @ the locker

[axeyou]

You have got to be fucking kidding me.

[Each word, said like its own sentence. You have got. To be fucking. Kidding me., and Johanna lets the me hang for a few beats before she slams her locker door shut. Because there, across the room, walking mostly naked except for her towel and her bow is Katniss Everdeen, the Mockingjay, the Girl on Fire.

Again.

Johanna doesn't try to keep her voice down, and she certainly doesn't try to muffle the slam of her locker. It stands as a punctuation of its own. Her hair--chopped short, but growing longer, down past her chin by now--is still stringy and unwashed with the Jump goo, but she's wearing clothes: the Tranquility uniform, torn in places, with the arms and collar ripped off.

And she's armed too, of course. One axe is in her hand, and she leans her hand against it, pommel end pressed to the center of her palm, like a lady leaning on a parasol.]

Hey! Brainless! Welcome back! Get over here, and let's catch up.

[Her teeth gleam, briefly. Not exactly a smile. More like she's baring them at Katniss.]

constance bonacieux ( the musketeers )

[slappings]

( pods )

[ she comes to land on the ground as a gasping, spluttering mess - not at all as together as she would like to be, all things considered, but then again she's not as dressed as she'd like to be either. first the pressing concern is clearing her airways, still rough and scratched from the tube she'd just woken up with, but quickly she comes to notice the lack of clothing present and she jumps up with wide eyes. ]

What is happening?

[ her arms wrap to cover herself as best as possible, and she starts looking around frantically for something to cover herself with. it just isn't right. her hands find purchase on a towel, snatched away and wrapped around her as quickly as possible.when that's all said and done, she rounds on the closest person to her and crams them up against the nearest wall, finger firmly in their face as she scowls in as menacing a way as a five foot six, bedraggled ginger can look while clutching a towel at her chest with one hand. ]

What is going on here? How did I get here? Who's responsible for this? If you think that people won't find me then you are sorely mistaken.

[ aaaaand a deep breath. ]

( lockers )

[ she's...doing a lot better now, honestly. she's showered the copious amounts of gunk out of her hair, calmed down significantly and even made her way to the locker that people claimed she owned. frankly, all of this is so out of her depth that she doesn't really know what to think at all, but constance is determined to avoid losing it again.

her dress is in there, along with a few other items she's choosing to ignore for now, and getting into something more comfortable seems to be a good enough priority. she manages to keep herself covered as she exchanges dress for towel, but the dress is a little more lavish than she's used to, a little more suited to queen anne's court than the bonacieux backyard, and after a moment she finds herself a little caught out.

sighing, she turns to the other occupants of the room, a resigned expression on her face as she starts to speak. ]

If I might beg a moment of your time, [ she starts, all pleasantries and politeness ] I could use some assistance with these laces. This dress isn't made for dressing alone.

( wildcard )

[[ showers! hallways! u can have whatever u like ]]

tauriel ( the hobbit )

[maetha]

( showers )

[ there's something to be said for how much easier it is to look at things with a bit more clarity after a hot shower. granted it took a little longer than she'd like to figure it all out, but it wasn't exactly the most difficult thing in the world. her hair is...a problem, but also not a priority, so it's left sopping wet and hanging over her shoulders as she walks out of the cubicle. we've got ourselves a fantasy au godiva over here.

it doesn't take long to figure out that everyone else is covering themselves here, so she wraps the towel back around her before she approaches a stranger, slightly awkward and stilted at the idea of asking for assistance. ]

Where are my belongings? [ she's polite enough, even if she isn't as comfortable as she'd like, and the bedraggled look does a lot to take away from any 'grace' elves usually pose ] My clothes, my bow. And directions back to Mirkwood would be appreciated to, if you have the time.

( hallways )

[ armed and dressed, tauriel certainly seems much more in her comfort zone now than in the pods or lockers. at least she has her uniform, and her daggers. it does a lot to ease her concern on the ship, and now that she feels suitably armed her priorities shift towards exploration.

both blades at the ready in her hands, she gives them a small spin before turning the corner - an action used as much to assure her that they're still there, that she's still competent with them than to be intimidating. as she sees another figure, she frowns before loudly clearing her throat. ]

You there. [ her grip tightens on the handles, and she draws up to her full height as she walks forward. ] Tell me all you know of this...ship. Quickly.

( wildcard )

[[ come on you know the drill ]]

scout lace harding ➷ dragon age: inquisition

[scoutings]

[ pods ⪼ lockers ]

( the dwarf was sprawled out on the cold sterile floor in front of her pod for what seemed like hours as her head pounded and she waited for her sight to come back. when it finally did it only made her head hurt more, but she could live with that. anything was better than being in that stuff and drowning. or at least experiencing the sensation of drowning since she couldn't swim.

picking herself off the floor, she glanced herself over and noticed the numbers on her arm. harding tried to wipe them away, but she figured out after a while they weren't going anywhere. using the walls as support she walked towards the lockers. she didn't like all the sound she was making as she walked. it gave her away and she felt so exposed. nevermind that she was in the nude. that didn't bother her one bit. it was the fact that she didn't have the upper hand and she was so used to that. scouting things out and knowing the lay of the land made her feel safe and secure. she didn't have any of that here.

it took her longer than she wanted to get to the lockers, but by the time she was there her legs were already feeling close to a hundred percent and the throbbing and light sensitivity was all but gone.

opening up the locker that matched the number on her arm, she glanced at what was inside. some strange black outfit that she doesn't remember owning and some other strange stretchy black clothes. thankfully the underwear aren't that different than the kind that she's used to and she's rather thankful for the supportive sports bra that's given to her (since she wouldn't know how to put a modern bra on). next came the suit and she gave up putting the skin tight uniform on and tossed it to the floor. )

Andraste's ass! Who wants to wear anything that tight?

( harding picked the uniform back up and started to put it on again. this time with better luck. )

[charges]

[Krem generally keeps to himself during these things, getting into his underclothes at least until he starts worrying about Cole or anyone else. The undershorts are simple enough. He gets into the binding shirt with a bit of cursing. He can't get dry enough to make it anything less than a feat to get into the stretchy garment.

After a bit of worry that he might have to ask for help, and a bit of stretching and pulling, determined he wouldn't get stuck, damn it, he finally gets it over his head and chest, tucking his breasts away to the sides and flattening himself out.

There, that was good enough for the moment. He glances around, his ears catching something...Krem glances over to see a slightly familiar dwarf, one he can't exactly remember, but he'd seen her face before, back at camp. He takes his shirt from his locker and slips it over his head, stepping over.]

New here? The scout, right?