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[dirth]

Who: Solas and everyone!
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: On board the Marsiva, should you want!
When: 20th onwards

[ This time, when Solas wakes up, he doesn't fall out of the bed. (There are small mercies.) Instead, he stands, a little unsteady on his feet, but rising to appear taller and a little stronger than the last time he was present on the fleet. His clothes, too, are different, and he looks a little more... Regal than he had been. He's certainly less on edge than his first arrival, shifting to realign the video feed so he can tilt his head, almost smiling. ]

The Marsiva, I imagine.

[ He doesn't want to ask if anyone he remembers is around - a part of him is afraid of the answer. It could be that they've gone and relived things just as he has, and if that's the case... Perhaps it would be better not to spend too long searching for them. If they wanted to speak to him they would find him; it's never stopped them in the past.

Still. ]

I should welcome myself back. [ A pause, then - ] I am Solas, for those that don't recognise me. 

[ What else can he say? He turns his head, gaze set for a moment, before he simply fights a sigh and turns the feed off. ]

Comments

[dirth]

I see. [ He raises his brow, watching her for a moment before he huffs a noise. ] Do you have a question?

[mucked]

[ she does, in fact, have a question. ]

-- Between the last time you were here, and now, did you...did you return to wherever you first came from?

[ it isn't the most important question, but it's one that needs answering. everyone tells her this is the case, but she needs to confirm it with someone who has experienced the journey. ]

[dirth]

I did.

[ He imagines he's going to get this question a lot. He and Jove spoke about it, with Cole as well, and the idea that they may or may not return to Thedas... It had been something of a weight upon their shoulders. ]

I woke up as if I had never left home at all.

[mucked]

And did you remember anything about these ships?

[dirth]

Not as though it was real. It was more as though it was a dream, and it soon faded from memory.

[mucked]

[ so, there's a chance. ]

A dream. Well -- some days this place does feel like one of those.

[dirth]

I can see that. The world I am from is nothing like this.

[mucked]

Nor mine. Not in the ways that matter, at least.

[dirth]

Are there any other ways?

[ As in; the things that matter are most important. ]

[mucked]

People are much the same: good hearted, if you give them a chance. But we've got a noted lack of space travel. And this whole television programme's a bit of a head-scratcher.

[dirth]

I'll admit, I had never heard of a 'television programme' until my first arrival here. I still find the notion rather... Odd.

[mucked]

We've got radio shows. Back home. Annoying as all else, but -- but nowhere near this scope.

[dirth]

Radios like the ones aboard the fleet, I imagine? Not identical, of course, but I come from a world where letters are the best means of exchanging words. Curiosity is getting the better of me.

[mucked]

Radios quite like the ones in the fleet -- but I confess the technology is still quite primitive back home when compared to these radios. [ ... ] Otherwise there are telegrams and, well, letters. Much like yours.

[dirth]

I believe my world has much to do to catch up with yours. [ Perhaps something that can happen once plans are set in motion. ] And then many years until it is level with the fleet itself.

[mucked]

So it becomes a shame to learn we have no concrete way of bringing some of these advancements back with us as anything more than dreams.

[dirth]

Sometimes dreams are all that we need.

[mucked]

I'm not so certain about that. [ it's all a little airy-fairy for her. ] Dreams are lovely, but they can't be everything.