Hawke The Pussy Hunter pt.2

Alright, one bloodmage down, two to go. Let's head to Hightown.

Oh look, more blood mages. I guess that probably close to a dozen of them escaped the circle, but there were only 3 that Meredith thought were important enough to mention by name?

So we get to the de Launcet manor and witness this incredible sequence of subtle, nonverbal communication:

...yeah, I don't know why I screenshotted this either.

"Lovely" is such a relative term with this game's art team.

Case in point: this woman's torso.

I'm sure you're a great judge of his character after not seeing him for like 20 years, too.

Hm, yes, who wouldn't trust a templar, they've been so reasonable up to this point

Cool dudes always brag about how much money their mom gave them.

What a wacky farce this is, reminiscent of the great works of Noel Coward!

"That's right bartender, another round for the house! Drink up everyone, my mom's paying!"

Okay, but fair warning: the only reason might be because Valerie kills him first.

He just said he wasn't one.

I'll do it... for a price.

Hahaha, women, right? Always fainting and menstruating and gigglesqueeing! Such a handful!

Valerie is taken aback as she suddenly realizes she still hasn't paid the bar tab after her last binge.

Oh come on, Isabela hasn't been in there in years.

Women, am I right? 

 

"FUN" FACTS WITH DAVID GAIDER: The Comte de Launcet was who Valerie's mom was supposed to marry before she ran off with Malcolm Hawke.

Alright, our relentless interrogation has yielded fruit, so let's head over to the Hanged Man.

Valerie enters, relieved to see that she'll be spared the effort of searching the bar thanks to the glowing letters spelling out "Emile de Launcet" floating in midair. What? Yes, she has been drinking, not that it's any of your business.

I really hope this scenario plays out exactly the same way with a male Hawke.

You could at least look him in the eye when you're belittling him.

 

What. The. Fuck.

Neither can anyone else in this party, I don't know why you're judging Emile for it.

Same, except for myself.

Erm, this game does realize that I've spent the past 40 hours killing templars, right?

I kind of figured that out when you didn't summon a trash mob of skeletons and shades as soon as you saw Hawke.

I can't imagine that a man with a pedostache and a bald spot atop a bowl cut might have problems understanding the concept of "suave".

Stand around doing nothing while valerie does the work?

"Hey baby. Like the 'stache? No? Well, what if I told you I slit my wrist and summoned a demon to help me trim it this morning?"

"I kissed a girl," Valerie interjects, "and I liked it."

Yeah, we know all about what you got up to at the circle.

Dude, how could you not want to make out with those misshapen masses of cartilage and gristle? They're so hot!

I'm torn as to what would be a worse experience: dying drunk or playing this game sober.

I didn't know they had a subscription to Penthouse Forum at the Kirkwall Chantry.

And Anders knows. He's the expert on the subject.

Oh my god, is this another quest where I have to help a socially retarded moron get laid?

 

Clearly you weren't spending enough time at the Circle hanging out with Ser Alrik.

Valerie's tone of disgusted resignation is the same thing the writing staff would have heard from any remotely sane project lead when they showed him the script.

Truly this is a romance for the ages.

After downing around 5 pints to kill the shame of what her life has been reduced to, Valerie sees Emile stagger out of the rooms.

I'm glad someone's having fun here, because I'm sure as shit not.