milliways_bar | (no subject)

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When you hear enough rumors that sound like a missing friend wandering in the wilds of Ferelden -- well.

Ysalwen finds it difficult not to act, or at least to think about acting. Which is why she's unrolled a map of Ferelden on the table and is placing colored stones on it. Red for passing mentions in taverns, blue for information passed by vouched-for informants, and purple for actual sightings.

The purple is clustered most tightly in the Korcari Wilds, which --

Well.

Isn't that interesting.

"What in Andraste's name are you doing, Morrigan?"

Because it's not like there's anything left alive in the Wilds, not after the Blight.

Liranan whines.

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"And what does rulership mean for the Fae? I've come to learn it doesn't necessarily mean the same thing everywhere."

Her mouth twists at one corner.

"It's not the only concept not to map well across worlds, but. Anyway."

Edited 2016-01-23 22:04 (UTC)

"It means that nobles keep the borders safe, protect those who within their borders and train young Fae by taking them in as fosters like me. That helps to grow cooperation among the many kingdoms."

"But the borders are still heavily-defended and difficult to cross."

Huh.

"Are you sure those young Fae -- like you -- aren't hostages?"

What?

"No, the borders aren't heavily defended, they're just watched and some are easier to cross than others. It depends on who's ruling, some rulers are more open than others. I know that I'm not. I'm in a blind fosterage, only the Duke knows who my parents are because who they are shouldn't matter. I'm learning."

"I'd say if they have to be kept a secret, they probably do matter. But that's just me."

Alistair's parentage was a secret, too. Because bastard sons of kings are dangerous.

Or so it's said.

"Yes, I know, its not the best way, but its working for now,"

And he's been getting a good education.

"Well, as long as it's working now."

She flashes a quick smile at him.

"Are the polar bear pants part of the disguise?"

He shakes his head and smiles, "No, I just really like these pants, they're warm and comfortable."

"Would they help you get across borders?"

You know. Just in case she ever ends up on his version of Earth.

"Not at all, for that I'd need to be in court dress or have a note. I could help you travel though if you ever want to see San Francisco."

"Well, I wouldn't say no."

Edited 2016-01-23 22:39 (UTC)

"Its a nice city. I'd have to actually get dressed first, but I could take you out to one of the good cafes and show you the Bay."

Ysalwen grins, quick and bright.

"Does that mean I should put on something more appropriate to your world, as well? And Liranan?"

Quentin doesn't seem to go in for mage robes, so --

Edited 2016-01-23 22:42 (UTC)

"Yes, Bar could help you with that and I need to go home and find a door that doesn't lead into the house. It would be simpler to not explain to Toby and May right now,"

Later he'll explain but for now, this will just be a short visit.

"I'm terrible at disguises, so that's -- probably the best plan."

She can pull her hair back over her ears, though, to hide the points!

"I can craft an illusion for you, that's usually what I do when I go out to change my hair and ears. But I'll be right back,"

He heads for the door and when he goes out, its through to a house, when he comes back in jeans, a different t-shirt, this one has the logo of a local coffee house on it and his hair a little wet from the shower, its with the sounds of a park, "Okay, I've got the door in a better place."

Ysalwen studies his clothes, gnawing on her bottom lip for a moment.

Then --

"I'll be right back."

Bar is a kind and obliging soul, so after Ysalwen has gone to the bathroom and returned --

She's wearing jeans, a silver-grey T-shirt with a blue hoodie -- said blue hoodie has the double-griffon symbol of the Commander of the Grey on it -- and sensible black boots.

Liranan has a black leather collar without spikes, and a leach. He and Ysalwen both seem dubious about the leash.

"Just in case something goes wrong with your illusions."

Better to be prepared, right?

"I'm going to have to leave my staff behind, aren't I?"

"I could make it look like something more likely like a walking stick," Quentin focuses, singing a few lyrics of a song before there's the smell of his heather and steel magic.

His hair goes from bronze to a dusty blond, his ears look human, Ysalwen's hair turns to a very light blonde and her ears are blunted while her staff appears to be a fancy walking stick, "How does that feel?"

The real question is whether or not she keeps her stark black facial tattoo!

"If -- if you wouldn't mind? Just in case we get into trouble."

It's not that Quentin's magic makes her sneeze, but it -- it's odd. The smell, that is. Sharp.

He adjusts the spell and her tattoo becomes still something but not as dramatic, its San Francisco, she'll be able to get away with a lot, "There, I think that should work."

"Thank you."

Her grin is still blinding, even through all the illusion.

"Shall we?"

(OOC: I'm going to be slow for some evening stuff.)

"Yes, right through here," Then he opens the door to San Francisco.

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