evelyn trevelyan (anchored) wrote in rooms, @ 2015-01-18 20:22:00 |
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Entry tags: | !marvel comics, *log, evelyn trevelyan, solas |
Log: Evelyn and Solas
WHO: Evelyn and Solas
WHAT: Checking out the Marvel Door
WHERE: Central Park
WHEN: IDK RECENTLY, right after this
WARNINGS: Nada
At a brisk pace, Solas took Evelyn from their door to the one he’d found Max and the flower shop in, to that place with soaring metal towers, strange magic, and stranger people. As soon as they were through the door, he reached into one of his pouches and plucked out his phone, holding it in his palm. His twitter account, which he largely used to follow world leaders and scientific endeavors, lit up with notifications. “A moment, if you will,” he said as they stood on a street corner and he dismissed most of the notifications. A few he flagged for later. Then he pulled up a map of the city, told the app to find Central Park, and nodded to himself. “Ah, here. I find it easy to lose my way here, with so many buildings and people. This will lead us to a park nearby.” He held out the phone so she could see. “The first time I found myself here, a young woman showed me a similar device and procured one for my use. Should you like, we can find one for you as well.” Phones, he’d discovered, were remarkable things. Even though it didn’t allow him to communicate in Thedas - there were no cell towers, which Wikipedia had explained were necessary - as long as the phone had a charge, it worked. He used one of the phone’s apps to make notes now, instead of books, and when he traveled to a modern world with cell service, the notes uploaded to the nebulous cloud. He didn’t entirely understand it, but he was learning. “We are here.” He indicated the arrow. “And this is our path.” His finger hovered over the blue line. “If the Inquisition had such a thing, we would never have gotten lost and spent two months in the Hinterlands.” His brows lifted. “Never trust a dwarf with a map.” It was easy to give Solas a moment to himself. Evelyn was far too busy staring around in awe. The place was enormous, teeming with people and energy and though she could feel the Fade, or something like it, for now the interest paled to that of the people proper. She couldn’t have dreamed up such a place even if she had tried and when Solas called back to her, she leaned in close to take a look at the small device – the phone, she reminded herself – in his hands. “Varric and Scout Harding did us fine,” she scolded him with gentle nudge of her shoulder against his arm. “It’s hardly anyone’s fault we kept getting accosted by bears every few feet. Well, perhaps Cassandra’s.” She couldn’t stifle the sigh that escaped her, remembering how the Seeker insisted on going on ahead to clear their path, and somehow catching the attention of every bear in existence. “So the device knows where we are and we mark where we want to go? Fascinating.” Her hand rose to press to the screen curiously, the glass-like surface strange to touch. “And everyone has such things on their person? Powerful tools such as this?” To think that everyone could have such access to knowledge took her breath away. If only they had something like it back home. “Ah, yes, the bears. I do not miss those, though it does get worse. Beware the Emerald Graves, Evelyn. There be giants there,” he said, eyes glittering with mirth at his poor attempt at a joke. He let her touch the phone, easily resetting it when her fingers dragged the map slightly to the side. “I am not sure if it is a thing everyone has, but many do. It is quite handy.” A complete understatement. “When we reach our destination, I will show you more. They have… a sort of repository of knowledge, not unlike a library, but it is not physical. You can access it through devices such as this.” He’d already spent a ludicrous amount of hours sitting in coffee shop and scrolling through pages and pages of Wikipedia articles, consuming as much of the information as he could. “Here, this way,” he said, and the map application happily directed them east along the street. As they walked, he gestured toward the buildings around him. “Is this not miraculous? Is this not breathtaking? To think that humans have done so much, all without magic. It boggles the imagination.” Her eyes went wide at his warning. “Giants. Plural?” Her shoulders sagged as she muttered under her breath, “And here I thought the one on the Storm Coast was troublesome enough.” Thankfully though, they were nowhere near Thedas, and their attention was currently occupied with miracles of this strange world instead of monsters. “You will have to show me how to use your device. I could while away hours if I there’s as much knowledge to read as you say there is.” He guided them down their path and Evelyn finally let allowed her awe to subside long enough to really look around at people. And see them look at her. “I suppose we do stand out in this world without magic.” Solas was getting a fair amount of staring with his ears but the staves weren’t helping matters either. At least their attire wasn’t too bad. Different and odd it seemed, but no one held a staff and that was what garnered most curious looks in Evelyn’s direction. One man caught her staring back at him and he winked and smiled, making a blush rise high on her cheeks. Perhaps it wasn’t all so bad. “But how do they not use magic. The Fade is… well something is here. Something is at work. This world isn’t completely devoid of magic. Solas ignored the stares as he always did, striding forward with apparent self-confidence. He was too old to care about the opinions of others. Let them look. As long as they didn’t touch, he had no qualms with any of them. Still, it was always best to blend in. He intended to purchase more nondescript clothing eventually. When he had time for it. When everything wasn’t new and strange and exciting. “It is similar to the Fade but not quite the same. A sense of background power that lingers in the air and stretches across the skin. When I cast spells, it is not manipulating the way Fade and Veil interact, but rather this nebulous substance of magic. Or something like it.” He flashed her a smile. “It merits further study, and I would like to discuss it with others in our situation. Those who can pass through the doorways to other worlds.” He nimbly dodged a jogger, and, as if it was an afterthought, cast a barrier around both him and Evelyn. The magic flickered that odd bluish purple and then faded, but not so quickly that some didn’t notice. He lifted a brow at a passing human, his ears pressing flat to his head. “It seems as well that magic is not so common here. There are no templars, but we would be best to keep spellcraft to a minimum.” Hearing him describe what she suspected made her nod. She hadn’t been imagining things and she was pleased he was just as curious as she was to find out more about it. But there would be time enough for that later. She didn’t bat an eyelash at his quick barrier, so used to him doing that, but she did quickly glance around and was gladdened that no one else had seen it. “You mean I can’t start conjuring up fire balls whenever I feel a chill? Pity.” She gave him a playful smile though her eyes lingered on his ears. “Should we get you some sort of hat? I imagine the people here aren’t used to seeing elves. Maker knows what they’re thinking.” Another chuckle escaped him, and with a start he realized he’d laughed more since meeting her than he had in years. It was refreshing. It made him feel lighter, like he wasn’t weighed down by burdens and troubles. “A hat? No.” His ears turned down, his brows creasing with displeasure. “I would rather bear their scrutiny than hide what I am.” Even if that meant he was putting himself in danger. But, then, what could any of these humans do to him? Casual arrogance made his words strong, coupled with the assurance that he could defend himself handily should any attack him. “Admittedly, one of them already tried to grab my ears. She thought they were surgically altered.” He paused a moment. “The field of medicine has come very far in this world.” As his brow furrowed, hers lifted in surprise – at her own ignorance. “Forgive me, Solas. I meant to offense.” It wasn’t that elves were something to be ashamed of and she never meant to insinuate that he should hide who he was. It was merely a suggestion of practicality. She would have just have easily suggest they hide their staves even if being without always left her feeling vulnerable. Still, the idea of altering oneself to appear elven was a strange thing and it made her brows rise. “So elves are here then? A people to mirror? Or is it merely the idea of changing one’s self she found interesting enough to try and touch?” And to think it so casually. How very far medicine had gone, indeed. “It is no matter,” he said quickly to cover his own surprise at her apology. She was nothing like he’d expected. He’d expected a woman secure in her power, arrogant and commanding. Domineering, perhaps. He’d expected someone who issued orders that were to be followed immediately and without question. At every turn, she defied those expectations. “I did not think to ask. It appears, however, that elves feature largely in folklore and stories, though all historical signs support my people existing here as fantasy, nothing more.” He pressed his lips into a thin line. That sat poorly with him, but there was nothing to be done about it. The world was as it was. He imagined there were placed without humans, too. They paused at an intersection, and his fingers brushed lightly over her arm to draw her to a stop. “See there, across the way? That light?” He pointed at the walk sign. “The red hand means stop. When it changes to a walking person, we may cross safely.” As he spoke, a car sped by them, so quickly the hems of his coat snapped around his ankles. “Splat,” he said, intonation flat. A world where elves were merely story? Even Evelyn didn’t quite approve. Certainly there were tales that she didn’t quite take as true. There were days she didn’t quite believe there was the Maker nor that Andraste was his chosen. Elven gods were probably much the same and whatever the dwarves truly believed in other than their ancestors (the Stone, perhaps; was that it?) most likely fell under the same category. But the idea that elves were nothing but fantasy? Odd. “No dwarves then? That probably puts qunari right out.” She watched him point at the lights, watched the people around them follow suit in the assessment, and she mentally prided herself in not flinching as the carriage like thing sped past them. “Well when an object moves quite that fast, ‘splat’ is inevitable should you stand in its way. Rather like a stonefist, wouldn’t you say?” She wrinkled her nose in thought. “Or perhaps that’s more of a ‘squish’ or a ‘crack’ depending on the circumstances.” It was a little macabre as far as conversations went, and an older woman standing near her gave Evelyn a disgusted look before taking a step to the side. Thedas had always been a dangerous land, death and gore common in everyday life. She had left her last battle nearly covered head to toe in blood. The notion of going splat in the middle of the road didn’t turn her stomach as it might have another’s. The red hand blinked away and a white silhouette of a person flashed, a loud beeping sound filling the area. The people around them began to walk forward and she nudged Solas along as she followed suit. “Indeed. No qunari, no dwarves, no elves. They have instead mutants, and there are… interesting politics built up around them that I have yet to fully investigate.” So far, the mutants reminded him a great deal of his own people: pushed to the sidelines of society, feared and hated in large part, but possessed of great - if variable - power. He lifted a brow as she spoke. “Should I be concerned by how much thought you appear to be giving this?” he inquired, teasing her as she had teased him. Keeping pace with her, he drifted across the street, checking the phone in his head to know where to go. “Left,” he told her, and they started down the last block. Ahead of them, a poor pittance of trees rose from the gray ground, reaching sadly toward the sky. The park was sad when compared the wonders of Thedosian nature, but it was quieter and safer than the rest of the city. It would afford them some measure of familiarity and privacy. Given that he wanted to pour over the mark on her hand quite a bit more, he thought she would appreciate the latter. “Mutants.” Another foreign word that twisted her lips oddly. She made a mental note to research it later. Soon he was teasing her, much to her delight, and she gave him an abashed grin as she ducked her chin. “Too much thought, clearly,” she agreed with a sigh and a gentle nudge of her shoulder against his arm. Left he said, and left she went, nimbly maneuvering around the crowded sidewalk to the wooded area – if they could call it that – he was leading her to. The sparse trees had her frowning, making her realize just how devoid of nature this place was. “Do they not miss the open space?” Now the wonder that was the city felt even more crowded than before. Almost stifling. “Even Val Royeaux is quieter than this.” With a shrug, Solas said, “It seems they don’t. Most of this world’s population is concentrated in cities like this one. This one just happens to be the largest. They cram as many bodies as they can into as small a space as possible. It is… uncomfortable at best.” Thedosian elves weren’t like the ones found in most of human fantasy. They didn’t frolick in meadows and sleep in grassy knolls for the sheer love of nature. At the height of their empire, he’d seen in dreams their sprawling cities of crystal that glittered and floated in the air. But even that paled in comparison to this. New York was monolithic on a scale Solas had never considered in the past. “Here, this way. There is a place I’ve found that is quieter than most. Secluded, if you will, from the rest of the park.” He drew up short as a young woman wearing next to nothing jogged by, her ears plugged up with those strange bud-like things called headphones. “There will still be the occasional runner, however. Those, we cannot escape,” he said with a quiet laugh. “Can you believe that here is a place where people run for pleasure?” It sounded uncomfortable. She was used to sharing small spaces. Granted, she was afforded more room and freedom than most in her situation, but the Ostwick Circle was still a cramped home (or prison, depending on who you talked to) so sharing space was natural to her. This, however, was overdoing it. The jogger caught her attention, and Evelyn didn’t bother to hide the way she stared. “Running? For recreation?” She wasn’t sure what scandalized her more, that or the outfit. She was quite sure the Rivaini pirate in Varric’s stories wore more than that. Not that she was complaining. She tossed a playful grin in Solas’ direction as she took a seat on the bench they came upon. Resting her staff she relaxed against the seat and took in the sights of the park. It was still crowded, still bustling, but significantly quieter than before. She rather liked it. “So they run for pleasure and live atop each other. What a strange place.” “Borderline barbaric,” Solas said as he settled beside her. He leaned his staff against the side of the bench, making sure it wasn’t sticking out enough in any direction to be an inconvenience. The people of New York all seemed to have personal vendettas against inconveniences. Any time they thought you were in their way, they didn’t hesitate to snarl and snap at you. On the bright side, he thought with amusement, at least he wasn’t being snarled at because he was an elf. “If you don’t mind terribly, Inqui—Evelyn. If you don’t mind, I’d like to examine the Anchor again. A bit more thoroughly this time. I was afforded little chance to study it once Lavellan woke. She never sat still.” He didn’t say it like it was a good thing, and he couldn’t stop the curl of his lip. No, there was no love lost there. Or, if there had been love, it was dried up and gone. “I always was curious to see it settled.” He offered her his phone. “You’re welcome to investigate this while I do so, if a trade is amenable to you.” “Oh!” Of all the conversations to have with him, she wasn’t expecting him to ask about her mark. It wasn’t bothersome though, and her quick, “Of course,” fell with ease as she began to tug off her glove once more. There was little need to hide it here, not with the world being so cut off from the Fade, and she took off the other for good measure before shoving them into her coat pocket. The trade was an easy one to make, her smile barely suppressed as she grasped the phone and held out her palm to him for his inspection. Her fingers were quick across the screen and soon things were happening, things were shifting, and a soft sound of a click made her blink in confusion, and then in startled surprise. “It—It shows a portrait of the ground.” Her thumb shifted again and this time it was a picture of her staff. She gave a delighted laugh. “Solas, you never told me about this.” He took her hand gently in both of his, his fingers stroking lightly over the heel of her palm. She had all the calluses most mages had, which surprised him. Circles were places of theory, not application. The idea that a mage from one of the Circles had used her staff enough to have old calluses surprised him. Then his attention shifted to the mark. His thumb ran over it, tracing the seam. Even though they were in another world, he could sense the yawning abyss of the Fade behind the scar on her flesh. It licked at his fingers, the power making his skin tighten. His fingernail ran along the very edge of the mark and met resistance. Without forcing his magic into her - which would be an obscene violation even if he asked her permission - he wouldn’t know how truly the Anchor had bound itself to her flesh, but he could sense the merger was deep. There would be no way to separate them. Her laugh startled him, and he looked up as he curled his fingers around hers, not yet ready to release her hand. There was some strange comfort in it, and he had been so long without physical touch he felt half starved for it. “About what? Oh, yes, it’s called a camera. I understand you can procure cameras independent of phones that are of a superior quality. Its purpose is to capture the world in a single, still moment, much like a painting but with, arguably, far more accuracy.” He released her hand, holding out his. “May I?” he asked, asking for the phone. Most of her focus had been on the phone but she gave a slight start as his finger ran down her Mark. It was a strange thing: most were too afraid to be near her hand, let alone dare to touch her palm. But it was the magic that surprised her the most, the power that was so distinctly Solas that ghosted over the pulse in her palm. It wasn’t intentional, a mage of his ability had better control than that, but her Mark was far more sensitive than her usual magical aura and the sensation had her sucking in a breath before she could stop herself. At least there was distractions, and she honed her attention on the phone—camera at hand. Her finger slipped as it moved over the screen, another click sound and there was a picture of the ground, the edge of her staff and her knee in perfect rendition. Another sound of delight escaped her. “Of course, of course.” It was his phone after all, and she held it out for him. Another click and she saw the blurry grey of the ground. Taking the phone from her, Solas scooted back on the bench, putting a small distance between them. Holding up the phone, he said, “Smile, Inquisitor,” and took a quick picture of her. Sliding back to her side, he showed it to her with a small chuckle. “And here is your likeness, as if in a mirror.” He passed her the phone once more so that she could study the portrait. “The contact list can be updated to include a picture of the individual you are contacting. Should you get a phone of your own, I believe I shall use this image for you. If that is acceptable,” he said, inclining in his head out of deference to her. Her smile wasn’t as wide as it could have been, too surprised and confused to be anything other than a bashful curve of her lips. When he showed her the result she gave a howl of laughter. “It’s uncanny!” Oh certainly it could be a bit more flattering but still, it was truly amazing. Magical even, particularly for a world that couldn’t hear the ethereal song so well. “Allow me,” she said once she had the phone. Raising it up as he did, he called out a quick tease, “Do smile, Solas,” before she slid her thumb to the designated circle. The next moment, a miniature portrait of him smiled back up at them. “I have to say, they’ve done quite well for themselves. For a people without magic.” Seeing the marvels of this phone, these buildings, this entire world, Evelyn was indeed awed. “You mentioned contacting? I thought this was an informational tool?” Maps and tiny paintings. Surely that was enough? “It does many things. Providing information is only one such thing,” Solas said easily, as though he hadn’t just picked up a phone for the first time a day or two ago at the most. He was, more than most, far too confident in his own ability to understand anything and everything that he experienced. Oddly, he reflected as he studied the picture she took of him, she probably knew that. It was strange to be with someone who knew you better than you knew them. It made him a little uncomfortable, though he knew there were secrets that no version of himself would ever share with anyone, least of all a human woman. “Would you like one?” he asked. “I haven’t figured out quite yet how one purchases such a thing, but I’m sure Max or her friend would be happy to assist. I need to repay them as well.” His brow creased. “Gold seems to have enough value here that they should appreciate it.” He grinned at Evelyn. “And we collect so much of the stuff off corpses. Spiders. Darkspawn. It makes one wonder why the darkspawn might need gold.” “Such a small thing, capable of such power,” Evelyn murmured as she admired the phone. It would never cease to amaze her, what these people had done with their world, and as she closed the small portrait of Solas’ visage, she considered all that she could do with one of her own. “You mean I cannot have this?” She waved the phone between her nimble fingers with a grin before handing it back to him. She wasn’t the thieving type. “I should like one, if your Max or her friend has one more to spare. I’m glad that gold is gold, no matter where we go.” Or at least it was there in Marvel. The other worlds had yet to be tested and she gave him a small shrug at his observation. “Why do giant spiders swallow up whole helmets? Why do I find copies of Hard in Hightown in abandoned temples? There are questions that only the Maker knows the answers to.” She gave a little wave of her hand, her words light and playful. He choked, chuckled, and then all but snorted as he tried to swallow his laughter. Pressing his hand to his mouth, he shook his head and snickered softly. “Perhaps the spirits enjoy a thrilling story of spies and daring do,” he suggested, eyes glittering with his amusement. “But we shall acquire a phone for you, as well. This one works in our world as well, excepting for the communication functions. I believe we shall find it quite useful, as long as it doesn’t fall into the hands of templars.” His brows drew together. “Are you living in that cave, Hera—Evelyn?” She made a derisive sound. “I highly doubt the templars would know what to do with it. They’re far more likely to burn it on sight.” The shift in conversation had her blinking a moment in surprise. “...Yes?” Her voice was wary, as if she had done something wrong when there was no other option. “Where else would I be? I can’t go back to Ostwick and and there’s no place for me in Haven. Not with how it used to be—is currently.” “No, of course not,” he agreed quickly. “I merely meant… That is…” His brows furrowed, his mirth disappearing behind a mask of concern. “You are not used to hiding what you are. As the Herald, you could operate without fear of reprisal from the templars, but as things stand, to them you will be nothing more than an apostate.” A wan smiled flickered briefly across his face. “Like me. Perhaps we can come to an arrangement? I would be happy to…” He trailed off, not entirely certain what he was offering. Help her learn how to be as cautious as all apostates had to be, surely. But there, too, was an offer to live together in companionship, and the fact that he intimated the offer at all surprised him. “Do you have a house?” Her words were a bit more forceful than she would have liked, eager for something other than the cave. Evelyn wasn’t a woman prone to complaining but she liked her comforts, and the simple joy of a bed or even a fire would be a more than welcome one. “I have to confess, I’m not used to being an apostate. It’s every bit trying as I imagined it.” A life spent hiding in caves for fear of templars was one of the reasons she never entertained the idea of escaping. “But honestly,” she said with a laugh at herself, “if you even have a camp and an extra bed roll I’d take that too.” He was taken aback at her forwardness. But then, he supposed, he shouldn’t be. She was forward, everything about her was forward, but not in a way that was arrogant or imposing. Rather, she was delighted by life, effervescent and full of energy. Of joy, even. And it had been a long time since there had been anything joyous in his life. “There is an abandoned hut not far from the Crossroads,” he said slowly. “I had thought I might stay awhile there. The space is small, barely enough room for one, but should you like to share it, it has space for a kitchen, and I am comfortable enough on the floor. I… am used to being alone, but it is not a state I particularly enjoy.” It sounded terrible. Cramped and obnoxious and there was still a high chance that there would be templars breaking down their door. It sounded like a bad plan. “It’s perfect,” she breathed with a pleased sigh. “I doubt we’ll be there much, considering we have a whole world—many worlds—at our fingertips. A place merely to sleep is fine enough for me. We’ll take turns with the floor and the cooking. It will be fine.” She realized it sounded all so final and simple but she supposed there was no other way about it. They would live there and it would be enough. It had to be. Her optimism was so refreshing, so energizing. “It will be,” he agreed, stressing the words and lightly brushing his fingers over her shoulder. A comforting gesture. A gentle one. “And we won’t take turns.” His expression turned stern, like a teacher giving direction to an errant pupil. “I am used to sleeping on hard floors. You are not. The bed is yours, da’len. I will not have it any other way.” While he gave her his sternest idea stare, she stared at him, aghast. “Solas. We take turns. I’ve gotten used to camping out. A bedroll on the floor is nothing and every other night isn’t so terrible. We are. Taking turns.” The look on his face was oddly inscrutable as he inclined his head to her. “Of course, Inquisitor. As you wish.” |