[closed] RIFTCON 9:44

[heirring]

WHO: Solas, Christine and Wysteria
WHAT: Hot goss post-convention.
WHEN: idk man sometime in Harvestmere
WHERE: The Free Marches, Markham
NOTES: What a bunch of NERDS. ASSIGNMENT INFO

Tomorrow bags will be packed, letters folded away, important papers and new contacts stuffed into traveling kits and carted back across the Free Marches to Kirkwall. Someone will write a report about all of this. Tonight though, a perfectly respectable comparison of notes is meant to be happening between the members of the Inquisition's delegation in one of the rooms they've rented in one of Markham's reasonably respectable inns.

That was the idea anyway. One of their number, arguably the least qualified and most vulnerable given the riftshared currently taking up residence in her left palm, is running late. It's unreasonably late into the evening when Wysteria finally comes clattering up the stairs and bursts through the doorway, short of breath and impressively red in the face. She whips off her hat and flings it marvelously across the room where it nearly takes out a perfectly good water pitcher on the sideboard.

"Good evening!" she declares, far too loudly. "You know, when we left Kirkwall I never would have imagined this trip would be so lovely. I mean, it could hardly have gotten more grim - is there any place in the world more melancholy looking than poor Kirkwall? But I personally have found our entire time away to be fundamentally invigorating. I can only hope the two of you have had as good a go of it as I have--" She's peeling off her gloves as she talks, struggling now with one of the fingers-- "Oh, damn you. Let go."

And laughs - "Ha ha!" - in triumph when it comes free.

Someone's clearly been drinking this evening.

Comments

[aceso]

The time of day has Christine concerned that Wysteria may have found herself in a bit of trouble, and a call on the crystals is imminent when the lady in question bursts in, causing Christine to exhale in relief.

"You can count yourself lucky you have never been stationed in the Fallow Mire," she states dryly. "I should think it is more melancholy a place." And that's coming from someone that really doesn't like Kirkwall at all. She pauses to sip at her drink, looking over the exuberant soul.

"You look as though you have been enjoying what the city has to offer. But you are all right? No trouble making it back here?"

[dirth]

Solas is somewhat less concerned than Christine seems to be. He knows well enough that this is hardly the place for much trouble, at least where the case of Wysteria is concerned. No one could have mistaken him for anything but an apostate mage, not as he presented himself and with the confidence he spoke with, and he does not think that anyone would have dared threaten her. He and Christine would care for her, as was their duty, and it was well known.

The whole event has been a little much for Solas, who is not accustomed to being very deliberately in everyone's sight and being the centre of attention. Having people come to him later to speak with him, to offer letters - that has been enough, he supposes, for now. Hopefully his name will not spread across Thedas, no matter how true faith in his authority should be.

When she walks in Solas pushes his own drink - hot cocoa, a reminder of home as much as anything else - and tilts his head. He feels somewhat like a disapproving parent.

"Perhaps you should sit down."

[heirring]

"Oh, no trouble at all. Matrim and Carolyne were quite kind to show me to and from," she's quite happy to declare, taking a seat at Solas's direction as she works her second glove from her other hand. The rift shard is a dull dark shape there in the palm of her hand.

"You know, I was somewhat hesitant to believe much of anything I'd heard about the usefulness of Markham's university - people from a place are so frequently keen on making it sound more important than it really is, aren't they? -, but I must say that the people really are rather lovely and quite clever. Oh not all of them, to be certain. I can tell you I've recieved all manner of dirty looks, but I suppose that's to be expected when you fall out of the sky into a place. It's a very natural response, don't you think? To be frightened of something strange and unexpected."

She sucks in a deep breath, exhaling just as sharply. The gloves are tucked into her skirt's pockets as Wysteria looks first to Christine and then Solas. "Well? How have things gone on your end?"

[aceso]

"It is natural, but it is what one does with that fear that shows who they truly are." Really, she's speaking from experience here. Imagine being told by your Rifter sort-of beau that he's actually an artificial intelligence dumped into a man's body. Spoiler alert: Christine did not respond well at the time. At least there had been no dirty looks given. She just took some time away to gather her thoughts on the matter.

"To be given a tour by a few of the student population speaks well of them. I am glad you've enjoyed yourself. As for us—" And she gestures with a hand to Solas, "I would say the response was more than I expected. Plenty of students and even a few professors were quite interested in our prospective works, and wish to keep in touch regarding new developments."