#mirevasan

Perhaps that was selfish, but so was much of what he'd done since Corypheus's defeat. Disappearing without a trace, and without a goodbye—it was right. It was the right thing to do. You just do not know it yet.

But there was no barrier here, there was a device that listed his name, and he hadn't had time yet to disappear. He'd arrived and made his way to the woods, spent some time away from things, and then... perhaps he should have simply stayed away from town for the first few days. Instead, he had wandered in the direction of the market, wondering about exotic paints. And he had been caught outside of town, but not far.

❝ inquisitor. ❞ He said, with a slight bow of his head, ❝ it has been some time. ❞

"That is..."

Solas? That was the first one she noticed. She took a second to wonder if it was the real guy or someone with a suspiciously similar name, and then decided to utilize her block button, just to be safe.

Then she happened upon another one, and raised an eyebrow as she sipped her latte. She considered the messaging system for a moment, and then figured nothing ventured, nothing gained, and started punching in a text.

[To:] Lavellan [From:] Rook ♖

[txt]: so hey i think we've met before right with the wolf statue stuff and morrigan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [txt]: admittedly not a lot of familiar faces round here but if i am correct which i usually am would you want to get coffee and catch up or something because im dying out here and also i have some questions about some shit [txt]: its rook by the way you know the super hot and sexy young leader of the veilguard whos saving the world and shit you know me right right [txt]: anyway im uuuh wait i think i can send my location on this thing andrastes fat tits that ru;les [txt]: hold on im doing some magic bullshit [txt]: ~~~~~~~FWSHSHSHHSHSHS~~~~~~~ [txt]: [GPS Location]

       ❝   I've never been one to put stock in rumors in the first place. But even if it were true...   ❞ ⠀She pauses for a moment, savoring the taste of her next bite with a muffled of approval.     ❝   Mmh... I would almost be willing to overlook it !   ❞ ⠀

Was now a good time to admit that even though he had some experience with a staff, it wasn't his preferred weapon of choice? Lloyd stares at the staff, a neutral expression on his face as he spins it in his hands, idly trying to make time pass by quicker. His hands work quick, catching the staff and flipping it effortlessly - but a sudden breeze pulls him out of his concentration.

"Ouch!" Lloyd yelps, the staff slipping from his hands mid-air and bonking him right on top of his head. He rubs the top of his head, letting out an exasperated sigh before he feels a pair of eyes resting on him. He stops, taking a glance at his surroundings, and it doesn't take long for his eyes to meet the stranger's.

@mirevasan

A FEW TOO MANY YEARS spent free-roaming around the rest of the museum's inhabitants has left Jed with little patience when it comes to other folks getting in his way ( even though it could very well be said that he is the one getting underfoot ). The guns he normally keeps in his holsters have been swapped out for plastic toys upon his arrival, a demeaning albeit fitting downgrade, which is a shame mostly because he lacks any real way to get folks to clear a path when they step a little too close.

( The old guns didn't exactly fire, either, but they had a solid weight to them - worked real well when it came to bashing people in the ankles. )

All things considered, he's been doing a pretty thorough job of not thinking about it when he rounds a corner and runs headfirst into the source of his magic-related anxiety. Literally runs into—or at least he would have if he didn't course correct at the last possible moment, tripping over his own feet in an effort to avoid crashing into the elven woman before him. Maker, he's really losing his touch. At least Carver's not here to point and laugh.

He straightens up with as much dignity as he can muster, brushing his hair out of his eyes in a manner that he hopes conveys how nonchalant and unbothered he is about nearly falling on his arse in front of a perfect stranger. Abruptly, he feels that strange sense of wrongness again, and this time it's clear that its source is right in front of him. He takes a half-step back, careful to keep his posture relaxed, betraying no sign of the tension he feels coiling through his body.

“Sorry about that. I really ought to watch where I'm going.” He makes a quick study of the woman. Elven, certainly. Thedosian, maybe. Friendly? He can only hope. “I take it you're not from around here, either?”