WHAT: Richie introduces El to some important Prigany folk (and she makes a friend) WHERE: Prigany Caravan in the city WHEN: Before the creepy fucker plot WARNINGS: Nah STATUS: Complete
That was a new concept for Eleven to wrap her mind around. The openness of abilities was still a little startling - hers always had to be a kept secret, she was a secret - and while she wouldn’t categorize her own abilities under the umbrella term magic, her interest was piqued. Richie chatted about skills a lot. Max was a mage, the same title her friends had bestowed on her. It was nice. Made her break out of her cautious shell a little more, even if she was still self-conscious about the origin of her own powers.
It also made her snap that blue bracelet on her wrist a lot, and the band would always smack right on the 011 inked into her skin.
“You can tell the future with - tarot cards,” El said, more or less repeating back the things Richie had told her before. There was a Prigany caravan they were approaching in the city midst all the hustle and bustle; the urban sprawl was good for the fortune telling business, lots of foot traffic passing by that wanted to take a glimpse forward in time. There wasn’t anything she had in common with them (visions weren’t her thing), but Richie had invited her to tag along and since she was learning things, agreed. It was part of expanding her horizons, being cultured in Vallo terms and stuff. “And - the lines on your hands, too?”
Brows furrowed, she looked at her palms and didn’t really get it. But these kinds of things could be weird, and they didn’t always need to make sense to be appreciated.
Richie was pretty excited to introduce El to some of Prigany - they’d known about her, of course. Asked if he would bring her - because they were Richie’s family, in a sense, and wanted to meet the girl he’d taken in; Destiny even had a granddaughter, Tiara (their magic was all about the matrilineal line - and Prigany as a coven was all about passing along their gifts through that line) who was close to El’s age. They both were at the city caravan today, so Richie had figured out the best waypoint map to get there and off they went.
“Tarot or the lines on your hands - palm reading,” he confirmed as they approached. “I usually use automatic writing, that’s what they taught me.” And he was best at it for some reason - had never really taken to tarot. Sure, he knew how to turn the cards - he just hardly went that route. Automatic writing combined with a third eye boost from Ras’s potions seemed to do the trick for Richie personally. “But they know how to do everything - all kinds of divination. They talk a lot too, they’ll be happy to answer any questions.”
This caravan was small - it was a work of art on wheels that was vibrant and colorful, solid flooring and natural wood throughout with intricate carvings in every possible area. Stained glasswork was put into place using tools and maybe some enchantments too - and inside a wood stove with brass trim and logs kept the winter chill at bay. Two stained glass lamps hung at the entranceway, which was bright purple, and Richie knocked on the door.
“I smell cookies,” he yelled, pointedly - baking them in a cast iron Dutch oven, on that wood stove, was probably a fun challenge but Destiny knew her shit in that regard.
Talking a lot was… fine, usually. Assuming that the other party wasn’t expecting her to reply all that much. El wasn’t much of a talker herself - she really ought to be though, it helped expand her vocabulary and string things together a little more coherently - but she was willing to listen, take it all. It seemed cool.
And that caravan was so pretty.
It made her eyes blink so comically wise too, in this sense of wonder and awe. Her life was always either white walls or a dimly lit fisherman’s cabin - she loved colors, it was such a refreshing change. Could she have one of her own? Where do people even get these?
“Magic has a tingly feeling,” she whispered to Richie, which was an observation she’s had before but here - she could feel it, like this tickle under her skin. Especially when her fingertips brushed against some of that stained glass. “Will they like me even if I just stand awkwardly??”
Richie chuckled fondly. “They’ll like you,” he assured. “You’re more likable than you think you are, El-Bell.” And, yeah, he was in the business of giving nicknames to people he cared about - or basically anyone, really, but especially people he cared about. Wordplay on their names or just random what-have-yous - it was a sign to show that he had all positive feelings about someone.
Though he hadn’t given Destiny a nickname yet, even if sometimes he called her Des - not very often, however. Her grandmotherly ‘don’t fuck with me, I can turn you into a toad and laugh about it’ status sort of commanded the use of the full name which he respected the hell out of.
The door creaked open and they were let inside the place - the warmth of it was like a smack in the face, a pleasant one, and an equally pleasant contrast from the coldness of winter; in Vallo, it wasn’t too cold - more like porcelain pressed to the skin as opposed to the harshness of swallowing broken glass everytime you breathed in. He knew that kind of cold, thanks to growing up in Maine. “Heeeeey,” he called, unwinding his scarf from around his neck. It would get hot in the small space and he didn’t want a ton of layers if he didn’t have to have them. “I brought someone.”
Destiny smiled kindly - she was already offering a plate of chocolate chip cookies, and her granddaughter peeked around her curiously. “You are right,” she told El. “Magic is tingly.”
“They just know everything,” Richie elaborated. “Or, well, Destiny does. It’s like her thing. I think it’s ‘cause she’s old.”
“...thank you, Richie.” Ever amused, as usual.
He grinned cheekily, glasses pushed up on his nose. “Buuuuuuut she also makes the best cookies, so there’s that.”
Eleven was going to be in a perpetual state of wide-eyed. Seriously. Inside the caravan was really cozy - she liked it a lot, liked the constant kaleidoscope of colors and tapestries and the smell. Aside from the cookies, that is. Beneath the aroma of baked goods there was something earthy she picked up on. Incense, maybe?
Either way, it was nice. Comforting.
The scarf loosening was mirrored. It seemed like the right thing to do if Richie was doing it. “Um,” she blinked, realizing it was probably time to say something - express gratitude for the plate being offered to her. One hand took it, and the other timidly waved. She mustered a little smile at who she assumed was Tiara - Richie had mentioned her name in passing. “Thank you. These look very good.”
Then she cleared her throat and summoned the courage to - well, you know. Politely carry on the conversation like a normal adolescent whose development wasn’t horrendously stunted by government exploitation. Sounded easy. “I’m El. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you!” That was Tiara, who really was pleased as punch - she was bubbly and affable and hopefully that would all help El relax a little, once she eased in and felt a bit more comfortable. Much of Prigany was homeschooled, though some of the youngsters also attended Geliara; it was a fair mix. Tiara herself was a student at Geliara, and she knew right away that El wasn’t at that particular school - she liked meeting new people though. “Can I read your cards? I’m practicing. Grammy says I have a knack for it.”
“Those tarot cards,” Richie supplied. “It’s pretty fun.” And probably a lot less weird-looking than the animal bones, but Prigany did a good bit of everything. He took a cookie and munched on it - yep, it was perfect. Those crispy edges yet the soft center - very chef’s kiss and he wasn’t privy to the secrets of the universe that whispered how to get cookies perfect on basically any type of oven but he was glad that Destiny did.
Because it meant more baked goods for him, which was actually a win.
Bubbly definitely helped. Sometimes it could be a lot but she didn’t hate it - and there was always a part of her that wished she could be that way. Happy and well-adjusted, not having to worry about saying something that wasn’t really socially acceptable or fumbling with words and sentence formation. Strange was embraced, but she was also strange in other ways that made it hard for her to connect with people.
Still. She was trying. That was the best she could do. Richie would butt in and help out - he wouldn’t leave her drowning in awkwardness.
“Okay,” she agreed because it seemed cool?? There was a pause as she reminded herself to talk more - one worded responses could be odd. El could learn to try and be a little chatty. “We were… talking about the cards, on our way here. I have never had mine read before.”
And the cookies, she still needed to grab one for herself. So she did. Richie was right - they were kind of the best, and it occurred to her that this was the first time she’s ever even had homemade cookies. The ones she had before always came in some kind of plastic sleeve.
Tiara grinned, a starshine kind of smile. “I’ll just do something simple - hopefully you’ll like having your cards read,” she replied. Destiny looked pleased that El seemed to like the cookies - but then again, maybe she had known that would be the case (she probably did). And had known that it’d be the first time the girl would be experiencing them fresh from the oven - the recipe was perfect, and she had a few up her sleeves; it just depended on what was needed at the time. Some of her cookies were reminiscent of a mug of hot chocolate, others had a kick of something like cayenne pepper - but they were all made with love and care no matter what. Chocolate chip? A classic.
Meanwhile, Richie definitely stuffed a second one into his mouth. Chubby bunny all up in here. He also made himself comfortable on some plush pillows, his preferred seating whenever he was in one of the caravans. Tiara shuffled the deck - it was as vibrant and bold as the exterior of the caravan itself, at least five different colors with a golden hue as the shining final color to complete the whole picture. “What’s the first card?” Destiny prompted her granddaughter.
“The Chariot - it means determination and commitment to your studies,” Tiara said thoughtfully. “And success.”
“Success - so see, you’re gonna be better than I was at math,” Richie chimed in. He was actually pretty good at math, though. When he had buckled down and cracked a book open.
From what she had learned from Richie there were major and minor arcanas and the pictures held - symbolism? That was the word. Pictures that you could interpret meaning from, and they had assigned meanings to guide whoever was doing the reading. Will would have liked this, she thought (even if he kind of hated her right now for being around). It was like a superpower with art.
“I know basic math,” she grimaced. Basic math got her through life fine but there was apparently more math to study - like algebra. Statistics. Then there was the class about shapes and calculators. It was very intimidating and she wasn’t sure what the point was besides maybe torture. “So that means I won’t… suck. Or get mad and drop out.”
El had received her schedule already and it was very intimidating, but she was still looking forward to a normal high school experience. As normal as they could be in Vallo.
“You definitely won’t suck,” Richie encouraged, and he didn’t have to be a psychic to know that much. El was already pretty intelligent (she was bright, curious, all those things that made for a good student unlike her ADHD guardian over here) and she wanted to learn - so he really couldn’t foresee there being much of a problem. “Max and me will help you with your homework too. It’s probably the same shit - er, stuff,” he amended because Destiny shot him one of those LANGUAGE, RICHIE looks that she was famous for giving him - they sliced into his soul like a buzzsaw. “...I learned when I was in high school.”
But right, cards. Which one was next? “Two of Cups,” he pointed out, and Tiara giggled.
“Two of Cups,” she confirmed his very right answer. “It means enduring friendship.” A pledge, a lion-spirit standing guard, a separation between the two cups but strength in the unshakable vow (whatever it was). It could also mean a romantic relationship but Richie wasn’t getting that feeling and he was sort of glad for that.
It was a simple three-card spread. The last one was turned over - Richie knew what it was, but Destiny tweaked his ear so he let Tiara respond instead. “Page of Wands,” she said. “It’s...a mischief maker! Maybe mischief is in your future.” It also represented a bohemian, kind of a free spirit - which seemed to fit El pretty nicely also. Richie would just stock up on Tums and brace himself, and be prepared to dole out a grounding if necessary.
He’d done it with Enola and nearly died from heartbreak, yes, but overall stuck to his guns and things turned out fine in the end.
No point in trying to assure them that cesnoring wasn’t necessary - Richie might know that but Destiny seemed hardcore about it gauging from that look. All her friends back home were notorious for obscene language, and Hopper didn’t hold back usually. This was cute though.
“Mischief?” Eleven repeated, making a face. Yes, she knew that word and - was she mischievous? Sometimes (a lot of times) she defied the rules and orders of the adults in her life because she felt like it, but she was sure that was more of being a ‘giant pain in the ass’ as Hopper so lovingly put it. If pranks were involved it was usually her being dragged into something the guys were doing to each other.
And the only friend she made that would probably do something like that was - oh.
She spared a glance to Richie over her shoulder, grinning. “I will do my best to behave,” she vowed but, obviously, no promises. Then she turned back to Tiara, the grin becoming more of a small, amicable smile. El seemed a lot more at ease now. “Thank you. This was… fun. And cool.”
Richie returned the grin, eyes crinkling with amusement there in the defined laugh lines in the corners. “I know you will,” he chuckled. “If you get into some not-good behavior too, I guess it’s just part of the experience of like, high school or whatever.” It had been for him, anyway - smoking behind the bleachers, Friday night football games, wine coolers and red solo cups in Bill’s basement because his parents were never home; mostly benign, save for the clouds of weed smoke that would always drift through their spaces too, and as long as El didn’t experiment with crack-cocaine, shooting up heroin, or any of the hard stuff then he was cool.
He’d rather her get drunk at Skyhold, within the safety of those ornate stone walls, than be out there on the streets potentially ending up in a ditch. But she also didn’t seem to be the type to want to lose control of herself - he’d see what happened. Hopefully her teenage rebellion wouldn’t be too bad of a storm to weather.
Tiara was pretty stoked too. “You’re welcome! You can come by here whenever. Or any of the caravans. We can have a sleepover sometime.” Prigany didn’t live entirely off the grid, even though they preferred the forest. It’d be a combo of creature comforts and fresh air.
Oh - a sleepover. That caught El’s attention. Hers with Max (her redheaded friend from home, not Richie’s pretty husband) was still fresh in her mind. It’d been nice. She wasn’t short of male influences in her life (especially since she was always surrounded by boys) and she didn’t realize how important it was to have more girls in her life until she hung out with someone that wasn’t pumping a bunch of testosterone.
Max had showed her the mall, how to handle when a boyfriend lies to you - they got clothes and ice cream and then for bedtime she had read her a Wonder Woman comic. El would enjoy more experiences like that. It felt normal.
(Nevermind the spying-from-the-void part and uncovering a very suspicious plot made by a Big Monster that wanted Eleven dead, anyway.)
“Yes,” she nodded vigorously. “I’d like that. I know a lot of boys so this would be really nice.” Then she looked over at Richie again. “No offense. Can she come to Skyhold?”
The look on Destiny’s face was downright amused, and she just let it all play out while she observed the proceedings from her chair - it wasn’t the intricately carved rocking chair she had in her caravan (the one Richie had been to numerous times) but she still managed to make it look very queenly regardless. And that fit - she was the matriarch of this family. The coven’s gentle guiding hand - no iron fists here, but they all knew not to piss her off either.
“It’s good with me,” Richie nodded. “Show up whenever, Tiara, I’ll make sure to feed you and El plenty of junk food. Like the kind your grandma won’t keep in the cupboards.”
But yeah, boys were dumb sometimes. And Richie wasn’t offended - he wanted El to have as many friends as her sweet little weird heart could handle, friends from all walks of life.
“Richie talks about fruity pebble fried chicken sometimes,” El quipped because that sounded like junk food - and very difficult to make. But she doubted that was something he’d whip up for a sleepover. Her assumption was more about ice cream, or cookies. Which reminded her that there was more on that plate and she reached out for a second one now that she had settled into a sense of social confidence. “Skyhold is big. Very pretty, too.”
From a laboratory to a basement, then a forest cabin to a castle? It was an adjustment, but Eleven prided herself in her adaptability. The change was good. “You could… show me more about tarot cards? And I can control the TV with my brain so won’t ever need a remote when we watch something.”
Yes, that was a good selling point in building friendships. El was literally a walking television remote and was able to pull up Disney + on it with her mind.
“You can do that?” Woooooow. Obviously Tiara was impressed - she’d never met anyone who could control the television with their brain. “I’ll bring my tarot cards though! And the chocolate tarot cards - my mom makes those to sell, they’re really good.”
“And I eat the ones that don’t make the cut,” Richie chimed in. It was true - the chocolates that turned out wonky or didn’t fit the mold exactly? Yeah, he slammed those back. They may not look the best but they were damn tasty.
It was indeed the start of a beautiful friendship - Richie was glad for it. He really cared about Prigany, they’d welcomed him with open arms and taught him so much about being better with his visions - and he also cared about El, wanted the best for her, so mixing those two important aspects of his life just gave him all of the warm and fuzzies and all that gross shit.
Tiara reached for another cookie for herself, munching away. “Do you want to see my scrying mirror too?” she asked El. “I brought it with me.” Much to go over - it seemed like the girls wouldn’t run out of anything to talk about anytime soon (and El was slowly coming out of her shell a little) so that was also a bonus.
“Scrying is - like spying?” Eleven squinted. It was one of the words she had looked up before (it was more like seeing, which was more or less the same thing) because it was mentioned a lot in the magical sense, and it was kind of like what she did, when traversing the void. No mirrors were necessary for that too. Just a blindfold and static noise. “Yes, I’d like to see.”
They’d probably be here for a bit, chatting up. But at least they had cookies and it was warm here, so not sorry, Richie.