Pot and Kettle

Sebastian sighed. Have some faith in me, Aoife. He gave up shortly after his words, however, as she flailed about trying to come up with the word assassinate. He knew better. One couldn't reason with a drunk Hawke. Didn't matter which Hawke, either.

Soft. Perhaps he was, but regardless his immediate reaction was to crinkle his nose at her. Maybe you can help me with that while you're here. He conceded after a moment, unable to resist, especially as she laughed like that. It was too cute, but he dare not speak a word of it.

He eyed the flagon as she waved it, but didn't bother to do more than that. It had already proved a futile effort to attempt keep-away. To her commentary, Sebastian rolled his eyes. I'm certainly capable of dealing with that free from liquor. But perhaps a few too many sweets to curb the stress came into his life instead.

They'd nearly reached their destination, but Sebastian stopped short. Surprise clear across his features as he stared back at his friend. We have mages here that were continuing the Divine's work with the possessions, he started after a moment. They might be able to aide you in... less violent ways than I take you to mean. He then nodded. And yes, I could certainly use help with Antiva. They, if no one else, have grown too big for their... boots.

Sebastian laughed. Understood. He nodded, then gestured at the building they were just shy of. With luck, it should be prepared for you. No one else knows you're here and it will remain that way. You're welcome to stay as long as you like.

Stepping forward, he opened the door to a fairly lavish room. It might be a bit more than you're used to, hopefully it won't make you soft. He added, a small smirk tugging at his lips.