Translation fail

[igetthatalot]

Varric got some requests from his publisher today. He's extremely suspicious of a few of her claims, but there's not much he can do about his supposedly awful Orlesian sales numbers just at the moment. It'll take him a while to get something written that suits their tastes. Maybe an awful romance serial? Something with a redheaded guard captain?

.... wait, it doesn't smell like the Hanged Man ...

"[Huh. Thought this place and me were on the outs,]" he says, and then pauses. "[Wait a second. When did they get this many different languages in here?]"

[OOC: Varric speaks the common tongue (or trade tongue), which sounds like English but isn't, and Orlesian, which sounds like French but isn't. He recognizes Antivan, Tevene, and Qunlat, but can't actually speak any of them.]

Comments

[firstgrade]

Oh HEY, it's someone else who isn't ten million feet tall. Great! Amethyst just popped through the door herself and has been standing around trying to choose between chips (good) and fries (good) or both (twice as good so there isn't much to debate here really), but when she spots the new guy she gives a wave. "[Eyyyy, shorty! What's up?]"

Short jokes are okay because she's short too, right? A runt?

[igetthatalot]

"[I'm gonna cut you off right there, because I haven't got a clue what you're saying,]" Varric answers with a faint sigh. "[I'm also gonna guess you're not from Kal-Sharok. They might look different from the folks back in Orzammar, but they still speak the same language.]"

And he's pretty sure they're not that color, unless they've been into the silver veins for way too long.

[firstgrade]

"[Whaaat. I thought this place had a magic translation thingy? Did you say rock, though? 'Cause I'm not a rock, I'm a gem. Way cooler. --Hey Bar, can I have some fries and some chips?]"

When they appear, she offers the little paper carton of fries to the other guy. That's gotta be a universal language, right?

[igetthatalot]

"[Guess they missed a payment to whatever mage was keeping up the translation spell,]" says Varric. "[Either that or the wards broke down. I don't know, I'm not into this magic shit. Hawke would know.]"

But the fries are something he can handle! He grins and makes a gesture of what he hopes comes across as approval before reaching for them. "[Thanks, whoever you are. My name's Varric, by the way.]"

Tapping your chest when you say your name's pretty universal, in his experience. Unless you're Qunari. But Qunari are weird.

[firstgrade]

Amethyst is weird, but she's not Qunari. "Varric?" Awesome. She taps her own chest--and therefore her gem--and adds a fist-pump to the gesture. "[Amethyst. In the house!]"

[igetthatalot]

(The narration will pause here to briefly consider the possibility of Amethyst as a tamassran, and then go see about changing its shirt, because laughing that hard resulted in quite a bit of coffee spillage.)

"[Amethyst,]" Varric repeats carefully. "[Did I get that right? Good to meet you, Amethyst. Are all the dwarves like you where you come from? ... not that you have any idea what I just asked, right?]"

[firstgrade]

"Amethyst," she agrees, and gives him a thumbs-up. "[...Uhh, I hope that's not a super rude gesture where you come from. Guess we'll find out!]"

And...hmm. What to do when you can't talk to someone? She stuffs a handful of chips into her mouth and thinks. "[Hey Bar, what about a pad of paper and something to draw with?]"

Crayons. Sweet.

[igetthatalot]

Varric's seen artists use a few things before, but crayons aren't what you'd call common in Thedas. On the other hand, they're not too differently shaped from the burnt sticks of charcoal he's seen limners use to lay out designs before they paint, so he's got a general idea what they're probably supposed to be for.

Mind you, this is still going to be interesting; he's not good at drawing.

[firstgrade]

Of course, now that she's got the crayons, Amethyst isn't really sure what she wants to "say." Uhh. Uhhhhhhh.

Eh, whatever. She brushes potato chip crumbs off her hands and starts in with a round purple person with amazing hair. Then an extra-tall maroon person with a squared head, a peevish skinny person in pale green, and another short person with a star on his shirt.

And then a huge many-tentacled pointy-toothed googly-eyed bat-winged monster for them to fight.

"[Yeah, so that's me and my crew.]"

[igetthatalot]

Huh. The colors are unusual, but he's seen gray, borderline silver, and bronze Qunari. And there's a few Dalish elves who look like they border on blue.

(The narration started yelling about Na'vi on its first encounter with the revised Dalish as Hawke and stands by that impression.)

So, okay, people come in different colors where [Amethyst] comes from. The tentacled googly-eyed bat-winged thing just means they've got the Fade where she comes from, too, far as he can tell. He nods, and grabs for a few of the crayons himself; he's no artist, but he can render a relatively decent dark-haired tall person with a shaggy face, a shorter (but still tall) blond person with shaggy-looking shoulders, two pointy-eared people, one of whom has dark lines on its face and one of whom has white ones, an orange-haired one, a remarkably curvy brown one, and one last generically dark-haired one.

Also something on four legs, because Hawke's dog totally counts.

"[These are the people I tend to hang out with,]" Varric notes as he does his best to render himself in crayon. It's a little trickier, since he's got to have room for the amazing longcoat and enough of his crossbow to be identifiable.

[freedom_is_grey]

"[Varric!]"

Ysalwen moves in his direction, Liranan trailing behind.

"[I'd ask if you were the same Varric as last time, but that's unnecessarily confusing. Um. Hello.]"

[igetthatalot]

"[Nah, I've heard things about people and versions and all kinds of weird shit around here,]" Varric says. "[I know what you mean. What's going on, did somebody get a mage angry?]"

[freedom_is_grey]

"[I've been told it has something to do with fish? I still haven't quite figured that part out, I'll admit. At least all the miming keeps things interesting?]"

This might be a mild term for it.

"[It's a bit of a relief to be able to speak comprehensibly with someone, honestly.]"

[igetthatalot]

"[Fish,]" Varric repeats. "[That's... that's a new one on me.]"

Maybe there's a fish spirit involved? Shit, he doesn't know. He'd say it was a thing for mages, but he's talking to one and she doesn't know either.

"[I don't think I've had enough to drink yet for this. Does the Bar still understand a civilized language?]"

[freedom_is_grey]

"[Right? There was also something about them usually being in the walls, and I know there's fish that swim in the fireplace, but -- I still don't understand how language has anything to do with that.]"

Maybe that's something to look into once all this is . . . sorted out.

"[I'm pretty sure we can get a drink, though. Just looking like we've had a hard day would do it. Bar's generous.]"

[igetthatalot]

"[Sounds like a plan to me,]" says Varric, rubbing at the back of his neck ruefully. "[I guess it'd be a bad idea to ask what else is going on, huh. There's no way that question's going to have a good answer.]"

[freedom_is_grey]

"[ . . . . probably not, no. Though I did get my apprentice accepted into a mercenary troupe, so that's . . . good.]"

The less said about Kirkwall the better. Honestly.

Ysalwen turns to head toward Bar. They both deserve some really nice alcohol for this.

[igetthatalot]

"[Good is a subjective thing,]" Varric says, "[but I'll go with you on that one, I guess. Which troupe?]"

[freedom_is_grey]

"[The Valo-Kas. They're new, all-Qunari. Well, all Tal-Vashoth, but. It'll be good for her, I think. She certainly seemed pleased to get started.]"

Ysalwen grins, bright and cheerful.

"[I still worry about her, but not as much.]"

[bringspeopletogether]

Sounds like someone over there is just as adrift in this sea of languages as Alistair.




Hang on a moment.

Alistair understood what that person said.

He's so relieved that he blurts out, "You speak Common!" as if he has recently abdicated the Fereldan throne in favor of becoming King of the Obvious Territories. Even Fuzzy rolls his eyes a little.

[igetthatalot]

"Well, it's not Qunlat," Varric answers, and, "-shit. I mean it's not Qunlat, your Majesty."

Oh, this is going to be fun.

[bringspeopletogether]

...Damn. The key hazard of recognizing someone else from Thedas: they recognize him.

Trying not to wince, Alistair hastily waves a hand and says, "None of that here. Please. Kingly business is outside business as far as I'm concerned. 'Alistair' is fine."

[igetthatalot]

Cue one relieved dwarven exhale. "If you say so," Varric says. "Alistair it is. As for me, Varric Tethras at your service."

The mabari gets a brief look and a nod of acknowledgment. Varric's familiar enough with the breed to know the dog'll introduce itself if it really wants to.

[bringspeopletogether]

Varric Tethras. That sounds vaguely familiar. Alistair files away a mental note, sticks out a hand to shake, and says, "A pleasure to meet you, Varric."

That greeting seems to be all Fuzzy needs to follow suit. He ambles forward to peer at Varric -- while a bit small for a mabari, he still nearly comes up to Varric's chin -- and sniffs once, twice, before boofing quietly. All clear, Your Majesty!

"Really a pleasure, I think I've heard four and a half understandable words in the last two hours. -- Right, and this is Brother Fuzzy, he's yet to quite understand the whole 'outside business' thing. You might get sniffed more later."

[igetthatalot]

Once the handshake's done, Varric turns to scritch the small horse behind the ears. Mabari seem to be good with that most of the time. "Not a problem," he says. "You know, I had just about forgotten that this place wasn't actually in Thedas, and then this happened. I guess the prospect of someplace clean in Kirkwall that didn't smell of smoke and its own barrels of beer fermenting in the back was too much to ask for."