A collaboration about an alternative universe where Solas is a literal modern day hobo with Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan.
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AU Hobo Solas (pt1)::
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NSFW pic:
A rustling, and an explosion of garbage as a man leaps from a refuse clogged alley. Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan winces as the old man grabs her hand, partly from shock and partly from the wave of body odor and whiskey fumes that assails her senses as she is dragged out of the alley towards the nearest intersection.
The man scowls fiercely at the red light, his forehead puckering and creasing in thought from his ginger brows to his gleaming hairless dome. “Quickly!” he shouts, frantically gesturing at oncoming traffic “before more come through!”. He dramatically waves her hand towards the light, and in a freak coincidence it happens to turn green at that moment.
Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan eases away slowly, discreetly trying to wipe her hand on her jeans without causing offense. The man steps into the street to collect a dog someone has run over, drapes it over his shoulder, then toddles towards a store front window to examine himself in reflection.
“you know” he says, admiring his new finery “I’m actually an elven god.”
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AU Hobo Solas (pt2):
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Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan stands before a vat of hearty cabbage soup, kindly ladling out portions to the less fortunate lined up to receive a hot meal from the soup kitchen sponsored by her university/coffee shop/reincarnated halla farm.
A familiar scent of trash and old man alerts her to the arrival of an especially less fortunate individual. He tilts his egg head at her coquettishly, nuzzling his canine scarf. He inquires politely about her position at the soup kitchen, praising her work, mentions something about side benefits.
“Side benefits?” she asks inquizzically (solas slightly approves).
“I like your buns” he whispers seductively. Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan places a bread roll on his tray and screams internally.
“Professor Solas!” exclaims a faculty member “we’ve been over this, the soup kitchen is not for staff!” and proceeds to make ineffectual shoo-ing motions with his hands. The professor, feeling threatened, rustles the many trash bags wrapped about his person to make himself appear larger, then squats into a crab walk and scuttles away.
The faculty member shakes his head scornfully “liberal arts and humanities”.
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AU Hobo Solas (pt3):
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“This is one of my spirit friends! They are people, too.” The sock puppet nods in agreement.
Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan is giving out free tea and coffee as part of a drive to raise awareness about the plight of the Dales. Suddenly, the familiar swishing of black plastic trash-bags gets louder, until she looks up and sees the familiar bald elf. He flirtatiously waves the tail of his canine scarf at her and winks. Well, he tries to wink but he can’t really manage it and ends up just blinking both eyes really rapidly.
Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan tries to ignore him and starts to talk to her co-worker. Solas waddles up to the counter, trash bags making an ominous “swish swish” sound.
He stands in front of Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan and licks his lips, “You know, my friend has been summoned against its will.” He starts to gyrate suggestively. “Maybe you could help break its bindings,” at this he jerked his hips forward knocking over a tray of tea.
Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan recoils and immediately begins to pick up the paper cups before they scatter to the wind. Solas starts doing squats moving like some kind of octopus or, perhaps, cuttlefish.
“Tea, I detest the stuff,” he says bobbing up and down. “But, today, I need to squeeze the dreams from my mind grapes.” Suddenly he stops moving long enough to reach into his fanny pack and pull out a sock–an old sock with googley-eyes on the toe. He slowly, seductively, pulls the sock over his hand like an elegant glove.
“This is one of my spirit friends! They are people, too.” Solas chirps. The sock puppet nods in solemn agreement.
Gradstudent/barista/hipster/reincarnatedelvenhallaprincess!Lavellan gathers the tray and slowly, cautiously steps behind the fold-up table.
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