inquisitor's path 1: well, shit

[dawnwillcome]

Who: Jove Lavellan
Broadcast: fleetwide video
Action: the marsiva
When: right now!!


Well.

[It's half breathless, half amused, and said with something of a strained grin. Why does weird shit keep happening to her. At least this time when she's waking up there's no chains around her wrists or incredibly intimidating women shouting questions at her. Her hand aches dimly, but it's nowhere near as bad as she's used to. She must be very far from home if she can't feel any rifts nearby.]

Could someone tell me what year it is? One moment you're jumping through a magical mirror and now here I am in... whatever this is.

I'm fairly certain it's not the Fade and I don't feel particularly dead.

[And then, more quietly,]

Cassandra is going to kill me.

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[serpentis]

[Dorian is going about his day, feet kicked up on the communications console and browsing the network logs. A new message? Well, very well then. He turns on the feed to see it and...his heart sinks into his stomach at the same time it leaps into his throat. Her? Here? He missed her, terribly, but at the same time...he can only hope this is like the business with Alexius. They'll reappear right when they left, right?

So he smiles, a rare honest one, and turns on the video feed.]

Well. I suppose you're safe from Cassandra for the moment. And you get the pleasure of being greeted by me.

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[dawnwillcome]

Dorian!

[Alright, this just about makes everything better. If there's some sort of strange time magic going on again, between herself and Dorian there's no way they can't sort things out.]

I'd like to think such a casual greeting means everything is just fine, but I know you too well. Care to catch me up?

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[serpentis]

I'm afraid I can't offer much more explanation than: stars, moons, disturbing lack of personal grooming necessities, disgusting food, uncomfortable cots, and occasional murder.

[He smiles.]

I missed you. Varric is here but...he doesn't know of us, yet. Some strangeness with the timeline. What is this mirror business?

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[wolfuncaged]

[Fenris has been skulking around his ship, generally avoiding people after his little murder incident. Talk of the Fade attracts his attention, though. He doesn't recognise the elf, other than the fact she's clearly Dalish.]

This is definitely not the Fade, if only because of the unusually small amount of demons here.

[Demons he's not allowed to kill, damnit, Varric.]

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[dawnwillcome]

[All this murder isn't going to win you any friends, Fenris. Maybe you should be cool about the Dalish too just saying.]

But there are still some? That's... well, that's something, I suppose.

[It's comforting to know that there are people in this strange place that are at least a little familiar, who must have been from Thedas in some point in time before arriving here. He doesn't have typical vallaslin, so she's hesitant to get too elfy on him, but there are certainly pointy ears and markings of some sort. That they're from vaguely the same place must mean they're something close to allies, right? And he doesn't recognize her, immediately start in with all the Herald business, so that's a plus.]

Are they much of a threat, your demons?

[wolfuncaged]

Two. By my count. [Three, but no one has told him about Crowley.]

They are not my demons. They do not even come from Thedas. My dwarf friend is convinced they are not a threat, for now I will trust his judgement.

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[treasureling]

It might be a little more complicated than year.

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[dawnwillcome]

[Touching the strange implant behind her ear, she nods.]

I think you may be right. Usually the date is a good place to start, however. Time magic can be... well. Very stressful.

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[treasureling]

It's a different world. It's all different.

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[yourdistraction]

It isn't the Fade! You aren't dead!

[ MERRILL CALM DOWN IT'S JUST A DALISH ELF.

NOT LIKE THAT IS A BIG DEAL OR ANYTHING.

WAIT. ]

Aneth ara.

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[dawnwillcome]

[That enthusiasm is pretty endearing, though. And the greeting in her own tongue and the marks on this girl's face make the homesickness she's felt for months ache even more sharply. A few letters here and there from clan Lavellan was nowhere near enough.]

Andaran atish’an, sister. I'm glad to see another of the People here.

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[yourdistraction]

[ She mustn't smile too obviously, or she might scare away this fantasy! Trying to restrain it almost makes it a grimace, though. Hearing her own tongue, how long has it actually been? ]

Likewise! It has been so long that I honestly can't recall the last time I've heard my own tongue. My name is Merrill! I see you know Dorian. Not that I'm eavesdropping!

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[devilsinthedetails]

[For once, he's not actively trying to troll with demon form. It just hurts too much to be human, so. He's actually not going to actively troll. For once.]

You're not dead and this is not the Fade.

...whatever that is.

[He's heard of it before but nobody really explained it to him. Outside of obviously it made him impossible to be born according to Merrill?]

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[dawnwillcome]

The quick definition would be it's where you go where you dream. There is, of course, more to it than that, but...

[With a shrug, she trails off. It's not exactly important under the circumstances and it's a topic she'd be too happy to speak about for hours and how often is that appreciated? Based on his appearance she almost expects him to know what the Fade is on his own, but the grumpy elf has told her there are no demons from Thedas here. He must be one of the others.]

It must be a time travel thing, I think. I'll take that over being dead happily.

[devilsinthedetails]

And where demons reside as well, correct? I've heard something about it already, but not much.

[Not that he really seems to care. Sure, it's a fascinating difference between demons, but Cole doesn't like to think about people being possessed. It's a very touchy subject with him.]

It's one possibility. Nobody knows for sure where or how we got here, but the why is pretty clear.

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[merchantprince]

[Who... is that? Is that an elf? That looks like an elf. A Dalish elf, to be precise. He wonders if this is someone else from his future-- or perhaps his past?

Only one way to find out. He snaps on the feed, smiling, and looking for all the world like he's at home. It's not quite true, but he does have a nice supply of vodka, and he's drinking some right now.]

If this is the Fade, it looks a lot shabbier than I remember.

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[dawnwillcome]

[Dorian's already filled her in on the time differences, but it's very hard to remember when this is the Varric she knows, grinning and at ease and making jokes to diffuse difficult situations. Not to mention all that chest hair.]

With quite a few less demons tempting us all to make terribly stupid deals, too. It's almost like a vacation.

[faithfulwisdom]

Gi suilon. I would tell you the year, if only I knew the answer; it is not quite so simple as it should be.

[dawnwillcome]

Isn't that always the way? It's always the simple things that cause the most trouble.

[But she smiles at him, because things aren't so bad. She can handle all this.]

Luckily most of the time business has been straightened out.

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[blindoptimism]

No, you're not dead. [...] I'm sure someone has mentioned that already, but just in case no one has, it seems like an important thing to clarify.

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[dawnwillcome]

It is a good thing to be sure about, so I thank you. I don't think there's such a thing as being too sure you're still alive.

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[heresyandlace]

[boop! on pops another screen with another face-- this one the face of a rather absurdly pretty man with lavender eyes, and he's just smirking away.]

Another elf?

...I suppose this means that the audience has spoken.

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[dawnwillcome]

[At home, it had been quite some time since someone had singled her out for her ears. Months since the last whispered knife-ear as she passed the humans in Haven, trading stories about how unthinkable it was that an elf could possibly be the Herald of anything to do with their human religion.

Eventually their whispers turned to open decrees of their faith in her, and knife-ear turned to your Worship as she passed. It wasn't a title she liked either, but it was better than being singled out for her race. And then, of course, had come the nobility of Orlias who had treated elves as little better than slaves for ages and saw no issue with openly calling her rabbit to get her attention. That was only a few weeks ago, and the irritation hasn't faded yet.

So another elf doesn't sit particularly well. Her eyes narrow at this smirking face, but Lavellan tries to keep her temper.]

Do you have a problem with elves?

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[parricida]

My goodness, but those are some fascinating marks on your face. Might I ask what they are?

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[dawnwillcome]

[Isn't he forward. Of course, considering his similarly uncommon features it's a bit hard to be too terribly offended and the question has certainly been asked in worse ways.]

They're markings to honor the elven gods, where I come from. We call them vallaslin.