methos and solas in dc
[Exploring new worlds, Solas had discovered, was almost as engrossing as exploring new portions of the ever-changing Fade. There were rules to learn, rules that could change at any moment, laws that must be obeyed, strange customs to decipher. The only difference was that no one here could possess him if he was slow or stupid.
In theory, at least.
He followed the dips and divots of magic in the city called Gotham, feeling out the subtle differences between it and the magic other doors and the magic in his own. When he grew tired of wandering the streets - darker and grimier than those of other worlds - he entered a bar. No one looked at him with wary, curious eyes; he'd forgone his robes and staff in favor of a simple shirt and slacks. But he didn't cover his ears, and those did garner the occasional stare. Settling at the bar, he ordered a drink. Beer, it turned out, tasted much the same from one world to the next.
Someone snagged the magic around him. It was the same sensation he felt in Max's presence, in Evelyn's. It meant someone who didn't belong. Accepting his beer from the bartender, Solas turned toward the man leaning against the bar and lifted his glass in salute.] You do not belong here. [A simple observation of fact, with no malice or spite in his tone. His lips quirked in a small smile.] Neither do I. Join me for a drink?