[ Is this better or worse than getting fawning letters from puffed up nobility? He can't decide just yet. At least the man next to him seems equally put out about this situation. ]
Most everything here is more complicated than I'm used to. My world didn't have electronics; indoor plumbing has only recently made its way over from Orlais into Ferelden. And still only in specific places– those with money, usually.
[ Sheepishly, he glances over at the man next to him. ] I'm guessing these sorts of things are more normal creature comforts where you're from?
[ The next screen pops up and he fills out the answers as before: autumn, quiet night in, unlikely to confess a crush (well, isn't that getting personal?) ]
( Edgeworth nods as he begins to look over his list of options for round two. )
They are less 'creature comforts' than hallmarks of civilization. ( He tries to state this as blandly as possible but it's still impossible to disguise the scepticism clearly written on his face. Having to to go outside to use the facilities sounds like quite a bother indeed.
He returns his attention to the screen. The man looks like a winter fellow, in Edgeworth's opinion, and he selects that option from the first list. )
I have never heard of those places you mentioned. ( Maybe this man was not simply from some past reality, but a different planet all together? He looked human enough...
Going through the items, Edgeworth chooses 'quite night in' and ... after a moment's hesitation, 'unlikely to confess a crush'. Truly, who could be bothered making themselves uncertain and vulnerable for no reason at all.
The screen displays their results: two out of three again. He frowns.)
As for compatibility, I suspect it might be of a more... romantic nature. ( At least if that last question had been anything to go by. He hopes his voice doesn't sound as awkward as he feels. )
[ He guesses all the lights he's seen around must be powered in a similar way. It beats the hell out of candles, that's certain. Josephine could read entire books without having to light a thing or worry about catching the pages alight. ]
No, I suppose you must not have. Pardon my saying, but your clothes– they're fairly different than anything I've seen. [ Orlesian, maybe, but they're not as ostentatious. ] Not, um, in a bad way.
[ Oh dear, has he opened a can of worms? Glancing away, he stares hard at the screen and flushes. In part because of the comment and also because his options have definitely become more personal. Maybe the odd lighting in the booth will cover up how embarrassed he feels. Or cover the blush at least, which he can tell has gone up to his ears as usual.
Quicker than before, because he wants this over with, he makes his choices: no kissing on a first date, walk them home, a nice smile (being the most attractive). ] How many of these are there?
[ Oh, how lucky, someone who has done this before. Cullen pays attention while she explains, head tilted just so. ]
A simple guessing game? Why all the fuss, then?
[ The people outside the booth had seemed too keen to get them to play. Then again, those who hawked their wares at markets or worked carnival booths did tend to get a bit aggressive. Maybe it's all part of a monetary gain?
Still, it doesn't seem like they're going to get out of here without playing, so he plays. One hand goes to the screen like she indicated, watching with fascination as it alights. ]
The simple guessing game was meant to test compatibility between people. [Midna smiles, though it doesn't appear to be anything more than her characteristic impishness.] I heard them say this was very 'advanced.'
[Setting her hand atop her own panel, both flash, display impressive colours, and present three separate lists. As Cullen's hand touched first, he's designated player one, and she... Well. The guesser of the game, it seems.]
A
B
C
Green
Magic
History
Blue
Dragons
Future
Violet
Tomes
Time
[Midna gestures to the lists and she nips into her lower lip with a sharp tooth.]
So... I think you pick one item out of these lists. You're not allowed to tell me what it is. Then I'm supposed to guess which item you've picked. And... I think it alternates between us. Not sure if there's a prize at the end. Doesn't seem to be.
[ Compatibility has always been a tough thing for him to wrap his head around. Mostly because he'd been devoted to the Order for so long he never needed to think about it. But after Halamshiral and its games, after receiving one too many letters asking after his lineage, well, he'd thought about it in passing. Irritated passing, but passing all the same.
Still, it's not his partner's fault that they both got roped into this, so may as well get it over with. ]
I'm not sure I understand the incentive, but alright. [ Taking a moment, he picks: green, magic, future. ]
[ She apologized and for now, he'll take it at face value. They've got other things to worry about. Even though he takes a brief moment to mouth sweetling? to himself. How does he get into these situations where people give him nicknames?
(Is sweetling better or worse than Curly? Jury's out).
A shouted heads up gets his attention and he moves on, stepping out ahead of the newcomer. He can feel a familiar bolster of magic thrumming through him, even if the vibration of it is slightly off. Perhaps not the Fade. Either way, it does the trick, since it's easier to slice through the now less-struggling vines. They're left in a pile and he neatly steps out of her line of fire, just in case she's going to follow up. ]
[ There hasn't exactly been time for introductions yet, and she's a bit short on alternate ideas! Though to be fair Ziva hardly needs the excuse. Sweetling it is.
He responds smoothly to the promise of support, and she wonders if she might do better to switch jobs, but the choice will have to wait.
For now, while he's busy slicing the vines she summons up the magic to prep her next attack. Minding the vines, as warned (and they do indeed seem to be reacting as though they can sense she's up to something, so she has to be mindful not to get snared) and follows up his initial attacks with a Jolt, a thunder spell, and finishes it off with another fire spell after to set the pile ablaze. ]
So it would seem.
[ She frowns, considering this, and reaches for her pouch, hand lingering over it as she casts a glance at the- well she assumes he's a Paladin honestly. ]
Mayhaps we'd be better served if I were to switch to healer. I won't have any fire spells at my disposal but I'd be able to do more to help with my astrometer than my rapier.
[ See, Cullen? She can be taught. This is Ziva not acting without warning. ]
[ There's no hesitation on her part when he asks if she's able to burn the remains. The fire crackles for a few moments, igniting on the vines with a flare of intensity.
And for now, it's quiet, most of the visible vines here having been hacked away or burnt up. Cullen produces a small cloth to wipe the blade of his sword before he puts it away, turning a concerned look over to the young woman. ]
[ Some of the furrowing of his brow smoothes away when she mentions that she's ok. A small relief in the face of all the strangeness they've been experiencing. ]
No, no, I'm fine. The shield took most of the damage, as it should. [ He tilts it a bit, to show where the vines have left marks. ]
Ah, I suppose while we have a moment– I'm Cullen. You are?
That was a thought that crossed my mind, yes. [ Odd, but then this whole place was downright strange. If there's one thing he can say of coming from Thedas, it's that he's prepared for the weirdest shit imaginable, to borrow a phrase from Varric. This was all new and unusual, but so was a breach in the sky. A dark magister and his pet dragon. Circles rebelling, the Templar order falling apart, red lyrium.
So really, he'll get over it. ]
Admittedly, I'd rather be doing this than getting coddled, so perhaps they're onto something.
[ Well, actually- He can't argue with that. He'd much rather be doing something than sitting around. ]
Not a fan of the "quiet life"? [ The way he says it doesn't necessarily sound mocking, but rather a little disenchanted with the idea of it. It's what he thought he wanted on Thea, after everything, but his time on the Origin made him doubt he was truly capable of it. ]
Something like that life doesn't agree with me, it seems. I've not had a chance to rest much these last number of years, so I couldn't say if I'd take to it.
[ Ever since the Blight struck, rarely anyone in Thedas has had downtime. Especially not Ferelden, where it began and hit the hardest. Kicking back, he thinks, was a luxury of the very rich. For the most part. He doubts King Alistair has relaxed at all since he married Anora at the end of the Blight. ]
[ Ah, so he wasn't wrong. They're from the same world, at the very least. Cullen warms to that immediately, sighing at the mention of the Fade. The little screen lists a few things and asks him to choose three of his favorites, so he does: dogs, walks near a lake, the color red. ]
I've known someone who walked in the Fade; it wasn't anything like this.
[ Glancing over, his gaze sharpens and brow furrows when Cyril says he might've fallen through a rift. It's so specific, reminding him of Adamant. Reminding him of all the things they'd solved so recently. ]
[Cyril blinked at that. He had expected a Cullen from the past, perhaps, but not one who 'knew someone who walked in the Fade' but did not know him. It's a bit surprising, and he's not sure what it could mean.
He doesn't want to try and figure it out right just then, because trying to do so would probably give him a headache.]
It was a joke, Commander. [He teases instead.] I haven't met many Thedosians since I arrived, and I was trying to make certain I knew who you were.
[Cyril turns to the screen when it becomes his turn. He almost lazily picks the correct answers for Cullen.]
[ He can practically hear Varric telling him to lighten up, Curly. Wonderful. Someone from his world and he's already starting to burn a bridge with being too serious. ]
I'm surprised you went that route, most make some comment on the coat. I was told most everything changes in the stories except for that. [ Dorian once delightedly ripped apart a story that gave him brown hair, dramatically stating the person must've gone blind while looking at his blonde curls. And Varric liked to send him funny little notes about the tall tales; how many scars he's supposedly gotten, how they get his height wrong every time. ]
Do you work for the Inquisition, then? [ Sure, Orlais knows him, but the familiarity of his title seems odd.
Well, anyway, it's his turn again with this game, so he makes his choices: a good sense of humor, a nice smile, and a desk (these questions are getting rather heated???) ]
[ He knows the Western Approach is fairly void of such things. And part of the Hissing Wastes, as well as the Emprise. All harsher climes, something he adjusted to with discomfort in the short times he had to visit any of them. Ferelden might be seen as rather backwater, but he's used to it. It's home. ]
Ah, not exactly the most decadent. Somehow I doubt you'll be stuck with slim pickings while here. [ Truthfully, it'll be a good change for him too. Skyhold couldn't always get fresh fruit shipped over. He picks up a strawberry, biting into it with a hand cupped under to prevent a mess. ]
[Her shoulders relax a little when he goes for his own snack, something of the tension bleeding out of her when this starts to feel a little more like a conversation and less like him indulging her odd compulsion to reach for him.
Why she did that she still isn't sure, but the chocolate is sweet and she has to lean close to him to spear a piece of some kind of pastry and doesn't feel the immediate need to put distance back between them once she uses the tip of her finger to clean up an errant bit of dripping chocolate and pop it into her mouth.]
Do they have this sort of thing where you come from?
[ So automatically, he's re-calibrating his initial thoughts on her. Which really didn't extend beyond "why did she hold my hand???"
She does lean a bit closer to grab some more food and he finds he doesn't exactly mind. Something about it is strangely comfortable. Or comforting, perhaps. ]
I've only seen it at the parties nobility throw on occasion. I imagine it's rather expensive to have that much chocolate. [ Josephine could probably tell him exactly how expensive. He finds he doesn't want to know. ]
[ As the vines retaliate, both of them end up busy with their respective fighting for a few moments. He catches an impressive display of magic– or something like it– out of the corner of his eye from the younger man. The flow of the battle goes well. It's obvious the other blonde knows how to fight and cooperate with other people on a battlefield.
After hacking through a particularly stubborn vine, he casts a glance to the side, head tilted to indicate he's listening. ]
[It's not easy to talk while avoid vines that are trying to grab or squash you. Ed manages somehow.]
If you can buy me a few seconds, I can get rid of that!
[He points to the giant plant-mouth-thing with his Halberd when the chance presents himself. He doesn't care how Cullen manages it so long as it doesn't result in the man being injured or killed. If he has an opening to transmute, he could make this loads easier on the both of them.]
Unfortunately, I couldn't even begin to guess at why. Perhaps the Fade at play, but it doesn't feel like it.
[ Even though it's been a while since he could tap his Templar powers with any sort of strength, the Fade has a particular feel to it. He's not getting any of that feedback from this place.
Nor has he encountered anything that resembles a demon. Not yet, anyway. ]
Normally, I'd ask such things of Solas, but– well, I suppose it doesn't matter. We're here, somehow, some way.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
From:
FIRST EVENT LOG OVERFLOWS
From:
EDGEWORTH
Compatibility? As friends or something else?
[ Is this better or worse than getting fawning letters from puffed up nobility? He can't decide just yet. At least the man next to him seems equally put out about this situation. ]
Most everything here is more complicated than I'm used to. My world didn't have electronics; indoor plumbing has only recently made its way over from Orlais into Ferelden. And still only in specific places– those with money, usually.
[ Sheepishly, he glances over at the man next to him. ] I'm guessing these sorts of things are more normal creature comforts where you're from?
[ The next screen pops up and he fills out the answers as before: autumn, quiet night in, unlikely to confess a crush (well, isn't that getting personal?) ]
From:
no subject
They are less 'creature comforts' than hallmarks of civilization. ( He tries to state this as blandly as possible but it's still impossible to disguise the scepticism clearly written on his face. Having to to go outside to use the facilities sounds like quite a bother indeed.
He returns his attention to the screen. The man looks like a winter fellow, in Edgeworth's opinion, and he selects that option from the first list. )
I have never heard of those places you mentioned. ( Maybe this man was not simply from some past reality, but a different planet all together? He looked human enough...
Going through the items, Edgeworth chooses 'quite night in' and ... after a moment's hesitation, 'unlikely to confess a crush'. Truly, who could be bothered making themselves uncertain and vulnerable for no reason at all.
The screen displays their results: two out of three again. He frowns.)
As for compatibility, I suspect it might be of a more... romantic nature. ( At least if that last question had been anything to go by. He hopes his voice doesn't sound as awkward as he feels. )
From:
no subject
[ He guesses all the lights he's seen around must be powered in a similar way. It beats the hell out of candles, that's certain. Josephine could read entire books without having to light a thing or worry about catching the pages alight. ]
No, I suppose you must not have. Pardon my saying, but your clothes– they're fairly different than anything I've seen. [ Orlesian, maybe, but they're not as ostentatious. ] Not, um, in a bad way.
[ Oh dear, has he opened a can of worms? Glancing away, he stares hard at the screen and flushes. In part because of the comment and also because his options have definitely become more personal. Maybe the odd lighting in the booth will cover up how embarrassed he feels. Or cover the blush at least, which he can tell has gone up to his ears as usual.
Quicker than before, because he wants this over with, he makes his choices: no kissing on a first date, walk them home, a nice smile (being the most attractive). ] How many of these are there?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
MIDNA
[ Oh, how lucky, someone who has done this before. Cullen pays attention while she explains, head tilted just so. ]
A simple guessing game? Why all the fuss, then?
[ The people outside the booth had seemed too keen to get them to play. Then again, those who hawked their wares at markets or worked carnival booths did tend to get a bit aggressive. Maybe it's all part of a monetary gain?
Still, it doesn't seem like they're going to get out of here without playing, so he plays. One hand goes to the screen like she indicated, watching with fascination as it alights. ]
From:
no subject
[Setting her hand atop her own panel, both flash, display impressive colours, and present three separate lists. As Cullen's hand touched first, he's designated player one, and she... Well. The guesser of the game, it seems.]
[Midna gestures to the lists and she nips into her lower lip with a sharp tooth.]
So... I think you pick one item out of these lists. You're not allowed to tell me what it is. Then I'm supposed to guess which item you've picked. And... I think it alternates between us. Not sure if there's a prize at the end. Doesn't seem to be.
From:
no subject
[ Compatibility has always been a tough thing for him to wrap his head around. Mostly because he'd been devoted to the Order for so long he never needed to think about it. But after Halamshiral and its games, after receiving one too many letters asking after his lineage, well, he'd thought about it in passing. Irritated passing, but passing all the same.
Still, it's not his partner's fault that they both got roped into this, so may as well get it over with. ]
I'm not sure I understand the incentive, but alright. [ Taking a moment, he picks: green, magic, future. ]
(no subject)
From:From:
ZIVA
[ She apologized and for now, he'll take it at face value. They've got other things to worry about. Even though he takes a brief moment to mouth sweetling? to himself. How does he get into these situations where people give him nicknames?
(Is sweetling better or worse than Curly? Jury's out).
A shouted heads up gets his attention and he moves on, stepping out ahead of the newcomer. He can feel a familiar bolster of magic thrumming through him, even if the vibration of it is slightly off. Perhaps not the Fade. Either way, it does the trick, since it's easier to slice through the now less-struggling vines. They're left in a pile and he neatly steps out of her line of fire, just in case she's going to follow up. ]
Watch your flank, they're getting smart.
From:
no subject
He responds smoothly to the promise of support, and she wonders if she might do better to switch jobs, but the choice will have to wait.
For now, while he's busy slicing the vines she summons up the magic to prep her next attack. Minding the vines, as warned (and they do indeed seem to be reacting as though they can sense she's up to something, so she has to be mindful not to get snared) and follows up his initial attacks with a Jolt, a thunder spell, and finishes it off with another fire spell after to set the pile ablaze. ]
So it would seem.
[ She frowns, considering this, and reaches for her pouch, hand lingering over it as she casts a glance at the- well she assumes he's a Paladin honestly. ]
Mayhaps we'd be better served if I were to switch to healer. I won't have any fire spells at my disposal but I'd be able to do more to help with my astrometer than my rapier.
[ See, Cullen? She can be taught. This is Ziva not acting without warning. ]
From:
VIET
[ There's no hesitation on her part when he asks if she's able to burn the remains. The fire crackles for a few moments, igniting on the vines with a flare of intensity.
And for now, it's quiet, most of the visible vines here having been hacked away or burnt up. Cullen produces a small cloth to wipe the blade of his sword before he puts it away, turning a concerned look over to the young woman. ]
Are you alright, then?
From:
no subject
But for now, a moment's reprieve.]
I'm alright, thankfully.
[She turned her hands to him, turning them to and fro to show that she's doing okay.]
What of yourself? [Immediately she tries to check him over.] Is there anything I should tend to?
From:
no subject
No, no, I'm fine. The shield took most of the damage, as it should. [ He tilts it a bit, to show where the vines have left marks. ]
Ah, I suppose while we have a moment– I'm Cullen. You are?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
SHUN
That was a thought that crossed my mind, yes. [ Odd, but then this whole place was downright strange. If there's one thing he can say of coming from Thedas, it's that he's prepared for the weirdest shit imaginable, to borrow a phrase from Varric. This was all new and unusual, but so was a breach in the sky. A dark magister and his pet dragon. Circles rebelling, the Templar order falling apart, red lyrium.
So really, he'll get over it. ]
Admittedly, I'd rather be doing this than getting coddled, so perhaps they're onto something.
From:
no subject
Not a fan of the "quiet life"? [ The way he says it doesn't necessarily sound mocking, but rather a little disenchanted with the idea of it. It's what he thought he wanted on Thea, after everything, but his time on the Origin made him doubt he was truly capable of it. ]
From:
no subject
[ Ever since the Blight struck, rarely anyone in Thedas has had downtime. Especially not Ferelden, where it began and hit the hardest. Kicking back, he thinks, was a luxury of the very rich. For the most part. He doubts King Alistair has relaxed at all since he married Anora at the end of the Blight. ]
I'm guessing you're in a similar state of mind?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
CYRIL
[ Ah, so he wasn't wrong. They're from the same world, at the very least. Cullen warms to that immediately, sighing at the mention of the Fade. The little screen lists a few things and asks him to choose three of his favorites, so he does: dogs, walks near a lake, the color red. ]
I've known someone who walked in the Fade; it wasn't anything like this.
[ Glancing over, his gaze sharpens and brow furrows when Cyril says he might've fallen through a rift. It's so specific, reminding him of Adamant. Reminding him of all the things they'd solved so recently. ]
It's rather difficult to simply fall through one.
From:
no subject
He doesn't want to try and figure it out right just then, because trying to do so would probably give him a headache.]
It was a joke, Commander. [He teases instead.] I haven't met many Thedosians since I arrived, and I was trying to make certain I knew who you were.
[Cyril turns to the screen when it becomes his turn. He almost lazily picks the correct answers for Cullen.]
From:
no subject
[ He can practically hear Varric telling him to lighten up, Curly. Wonderful. Someone from his world and he's already starting to burn a bridge with being too serious. ]
I'm surprised you went that route, most make some comment on the coat. I was told most everything changes in the stories except for that. [ Dorian once delightedly ripped apart a story that gave him brown hair, dramatically stating the person must've gone blind while looking at his blonde curls. And Varric liked to send him funny little notes about the tall tales; how many scars he's supposedly gotten, how they get his height wrong every time. ]
Do you work for the Inquisition, then? [ Sure, Orlais knows him, but the familiarity of his title seems odd.
Well, anyway, it's his turn again with this game, so he makes his choices: a good sense of humor, a nice smile, and a desk (these questions are getting rather heated???) ]
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
REY
None? Something of a desert, then?
[ He knows the Western Approach is fairly void of such things. And part of the Hissing Wastes, as well as the Emprise. All harsher climes, something he adjusted to with discomfort in the short times he had to visit any of them. Ferelden might be seen as rather backwater, but he's used to it. It's home. ]
Ah, not exactly the most decadent. Somehow I doubt you'll be stuck with slim pickings while here. [ Truthfully, it'll be a good change for him too. Skyhold couldn't always get fresh fruit shipped over. He picks up a strawberry, biting into it with a hand cupped under to prevent a mess. ]
From:
no subject
[Her shoulders relax a little when he goes for his own snack, something of the tension bleeding out of her when this starts to feel a little more like a conversation and less like him indulging her odd compulsion to reach for him.
Why she did that she still isn't sure, but the chocolate is sweet and she has to lean close to him to spear a piece of some kind of pastry and doesn't feel the immediate need to put distance back between them once she uses the tip of her finger to clean up an errant bit of dripping chocolate and pop it into her mouth.]
Do they have this sort of thing where you come from?
[Free food in fountain form, she means.]
From:
no subject
[ So automatically, he's re-calibrating his initial thoughts on her. Which really didn't extend beyond "why did she hold my hand???"
She does lean a bit closer to grab some more food and he finds he doesn't exactly mind. Something about it is strangely comfortable. Or comforting, perhaps. ]
I've only seen it at the parties nobility throw on occasion. I imagine it's rather expensive to have that much chocolate. [ Josephine could probably tell him exactly how expensive. He finds he doesn't want to know. ]
From:
ED ELRIC
[ As the vines retaliate, both of them end up busy with their respective fighting for a few moments. He catches an impressive display of magic– or something like it– out of the corner of his eye from the younger man. The flow of the battle goes well. It's obvious the other blonde knows how to fight and cooperate with other people on a battlefield.
After hacking through a particularly stubborn vine, he casts a glance to the side, head tilted to indicate he's listening. ]
What did you have in mind?
From:
no subject
If you can buy me a few seconds, I can get rid of that!
[He points to the giant plant-mouth-thing with his Halberd when the chance presents himself. He doesn't care how Cullen manages it so long as it doesn't result in the man being injured or killed. If he has an opening to transmute, he could make this loads easier on the both of them.]
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:From:
FENRIS
Unfortunately, I couldn't even begin to guess at why. Perhaps the Fade at play, but it doesn't feel like it.
[ Even though it's been a while since he could tap his Templar powers with any sort of strength, the Fade has a particular feel to it. He's not getting any of that feedback from this place.
Nor has he encountered anything that resembles a demon. Not yet, anyway. ]
Normally, I'd ask such things of Solas, but– well, I suppose it doesn't matter. We're here, somehow, some way.
From:
no subject
Granted, Fenris has only experienced it once, but that had been plenty. He cocks his head a moment at the unfamiliar name.
"Who is Solas?"
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From: