"Will you just shut your fucking cakehole, Carver!"

"I don't know what they want me to fucking do, Marian. I can't get tanking practice if I don't run dungeons, and if I never run dungeons I can't tank."

Hawke pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her mouse in frustration. This was the third dungeon where some 'epic' healer dropped group because their group was going 'too slow'. Carver was trying out his protection spec so they could finally run dungeons on their own without having to sit forever in queue waiting on the rare friendly-neighborhood tank.

She opened her eyes and stared at the screen.

You received loot. [Grime-Encrusted Scale]

[JuniorHawke]: Well you're just a fucking elitist, how the fuck am I going to learn?

Your share of the loot is 32 silver, 12 copper.

[Uberpriest69]: Too slow. Fail. Peace out nooblets.

Uberpriest69 has left the party.

[DragonHawke] facepalms

You are now in queue.

[RayofSunlite]: I'm sorry, maybe I should be better geared to help him run -_-

[DragonHawke]: Ugh, I'm really sorry Varric, I should just flip to resto..

[HangedVarric]: It's fine kid, I'm just here for my points, and Bianca's entertained.

HangedVarric handles Bianca's trigger

JuniorHawke gags

"Tell Beth I'm getting her a headset this weekend, it's going to be much easier if she can talk."

Hawke sighed and leaned back, listening to Carver relay the message to his sister and gripe about the hunter and his unhealthy fascination of his gun. Her mother bugged her to do something with her siblings regularly; and since she wouldn't let them hang out with her on campus, online gaming was the answer. Every Tuesday and Thursday, after her evening Theatre elective classes, she glued her ass to the chair and slapped on her headset. Beth was usually on doing some gathering quests or hanging out on a roleplay server when she logged in. Carver was never on time. Hawke would text him something borderline emasculating and within two minutes he was on vent, bitching in her ear.

"Beth says she's gonna bio and grab another drink, we should still be in queue."

That was exactly how this night started as well. Hawke reached under her desk to raid her mini-fridge for a beer. Sadly, all the good booze was gone, leaving the shitty Bud Light lime that her cousin left behind the last time he visited. She angled the bottle on the edge of the desk and smacked it hard with her hand to pop the cap off and took a long swig.

At least she had Varric to run around with. The whole reason she was playing this game in the first place was dragons, of course; the second was that she and her mother had a slight falling-out over winter break and starting this game let her hole up in her dorm and shut out the world. After hitting max level on the third day, she stumbled into the dungeon queue, and this quirky survival hunter was telling jokes and stories all through the run. After the last boss pull, the tank dropped the group, leaving the group scrambling. Hawke pulled every spell in her shaman spell book, throwing crowd control and healing spells despite not being in a healing spec. When they successfully downed the boss, Varric whispered her about running with him again. After several runs it turned out that he lived in Kirkwall, and soon they were inseperable on the server. Varric was just that guy, everyone knew him.

[BlondJustice] joined the party

[BlondJustice]: Hang on, I need to change specs really quick. I never get a dps queue.

[JuniorHawke]: Oh thank the Maker, we might go slow.. trying to pick up tank gear.

[BlondJustice]: Ha! That's fine, that means I get to smite heal.

RayofSunlite cheers!

[HangedVarric]: As long as we're alive at the end, Blondie, you do you.

Ten minutes later the dungeon was finished, and the Discipline priest ended up greasing the run with an overabundance of shields and extra damage. They exchanged jabs with Varric on the most creative ways to end the main boss while Carver cursed when he continuously lost aggro.

[BlondJustice] whispers: So are you trying to be heals or dps?

To:[BlondJustice]: healing for raiding,I guess? I'm just now gearing up and I'm not really sure I want to do

[BlondJustice] whispers: Well, if you're around later, I could give you some healing tips?

Hawke grinned as she excitedly typed to the disc healer. He started to send her whispers during fights and stayed with the group for another three dungeons.

"Marian. Are you paying attention? We're waiting on you for the queue." Carver barked over the headset.

"Sorry, the priest keeps talking to me. He's going to give me healing pointers after we're done tonight. I think he's from Kirkwall too!"

"Well, flirt on your own time dammit, I still have schoolwork to finish."

"Maybe you should do it instead consuming all that porn that I have to wipe off the computer every time I come home."

While the new string of expletives streamed through her headset, Hawke drained the remainder of the horrendous beer and checked the time. Fuck.

To:[BlondJustice]: Hey, gonna have to take a rain check on that healing lesson. Lost track of time and have to be up early for class.

[BlondJustice] whispers: oh that's fine, i'm on every night after my shift..you said you went to Kirkwall State right?

To:[BlondJustice]: Yeah, one more year.. this 6am bullshit will soon be over and I'll be free.

[BlondJustice] whispers: well, if you ever want to grab coffee sometime…?

Hawke blushed and bit her lip. Holy shit, someone is hitting on me over the internet . She quickly dropped her number into the whisper, exchanged names, and set a coffee date for the next afternoon. This deserved a celebratory beer, even if it was terrible. She replicated her bottlecap popping routine and threw it down the hatch.

"So, I think Anders is going to join our weekly dungeon group!" She unplugged her headset, shaking out of her pajama pants, and swiftly pulling off her bra through the armhole of her shirt.

Carver's voice grumbled through the speakers. "...Perfect. Beth says good night."

She leaned over to hit her push-to-talk key to give a quick "Love you too, baby brother" before flopping onto her dorm bed face-first into her pillow and passing out.