crystal

[undergrunn]

( Behold, a new voice on the crystals. Soft, good-humoured, with an accent that sounds Scandinavian / relative equivalent. The crystal catches a quiet breath of laughter before she speaks. )

I don’t know if you’re really lucky to have an engineer turn up, or if I’m really unlucky that I need to figure out the machinery.

I mean, learning about the infrastructure of a city in a whole different world isn’t even a “once in a lifetime” kind of opportunity, and pretending I’m some sort of genius at kinetic motion just because I know some mechanisms from home would be pretty fun, but…

Wow.

( Maybe that sounds a little weightier than her first "wow.")

Oh, I'm Abella. Riftwatch, you’re gonna have to have a lot more ramps by the time I’m done with you. Somewhere has to accommodate wheelchair users, even if it’s some kind of fairy tale world.

( Hmmm. )

Wait, can you just make them float, here? (More softly, ) Flying wheelchairs would explain the lack of ramps. I mean, this crystal thing is remarkable, so... let me know if I don't need to think about the ramps.

Comments

[succise]

Is there something in the rift you come through that makes you all act like this?

[undergrunn]

It was meant to come across as good-humoured, but I can definitely see how it landed as ignorant and presumptuous. ( There’s a brief, sheepish breath of laughter. ) Sorry. I’m working on it.

[succise]

(This is... acceptable.)

Okay, then. Good.

Where did you come here from?

[undergrunn]

Um.
( Figuring out how to respond to that when people may not know your world at all is interesting. )

Specifically, the city of Prehevil in Bohemia. More broadly speaking, it is a world that I had understood to be without magic, until I very, very recently discovered magic, monsters and Old Gods are all real.

( Her voice goes up just a little at the end of that, in that way which could suggest she is trying to sound like she's taking to take it in stride and maybe isn't succeeding. )

[succise]

All of that is 'real' here too, (Vega informs her, but with much less bite this time — she is genuinely curious about this new place that didn't exist until she was told about it: Prehevil, in Bohemia, a very exotic, faraway sounding name.

She doesn't seem to need permission to start asking questions, it happens at once:)

What is it like there? Is it very different to here?

[undergrunn]

( Sorry, sorry, let her come to a screeching halt. )

You have Old Gods, here?

( There is an element of fear in it. )

Can you-- where can I find out about them? Does 'Rher' mean anything to you?

[succise]

We —

(But then Abella keeps speaking, and she falls silent abruptly.

Once it seems to be her turn:) You could find out about them from me, if you'll let me answer your questions one at a time.

[undergrunn]

( Unseen, alone, Abella has her back against a wall. She slides down, knuckles white with how tight she grasps the crystal, before she takes a moment to light up a cigarette.

Her voice and her hands are steady when Abella replies, although there’s sweat running down her back. )

Sure. What can you tell me?

[succise]

(Primly,) The Old Gods are a thing of ancient Tevinter. I doubt you'd be able to find many who still believe in them today; anybody who says they do is part of a cult or trying to sell you something.

(... This is tantamount to admitting she knows very little about them, only through ghost stories and Circle schoolyard rumour. Still, Vega presses on.) There were seven of them. Old Gods, I mean, they took the form of dragons — or they were only ever just dragons, but very large and powerful ones, so out of fear people worshipped them like gods.

You don't need to worry about them here.

[undergrunn]

( No longer worshipped, cults. That cranks up her tension, rather than diffusing it. )

Were any of them associated with trickery, or the moon?

( “You don’t need to worry about them here,” well. She used to not worry about them at home. )

[succise]

Oh, (Vega doesn't know. This is something she has never cared about or thought interesting at all. At best it's a humourous theory and at worst it means deluded people are running loose in Tevinter, believing dragons are gods.) Probably.

[rowancrowned]

This is chronic?

[ pot, very forgetful kettle. ]

[succise]

From what I have seen, it seems to be.

[rowancrowned]

It makes sense, in fairness. To see the state of things and to want to act, however one is able. The desire to help.

[succise]

Wanting to help is useless if you will not do what the people who are asking for help want of you.