in and out of stages

[niceassassin.livejournal.com]

WHO: Zevran (niceassassin) and OPEN.
WHERE: Around the City.
WHEN: The night of Saturday, May 14th.
WARNINGS: Terrible references to sex. Anything else on a case-by-case basis.
SUMMARY: Zevran goes out to try to make up for the lost time during kid week. Come help him out, join him, or try to foil his plans: whichever is your fancy.
FORMAT: Whatever you prefer!

By noon on Saturday, the memory of the past week is clearly stretched out in Zevran's mind like a poisoning victim, and by late afternoon, he can no longer tolerate it. It has been a very long time since that kind of vulnerability and sentimentality was so fresh in his recall. Oh, yes, moments of it escaped during his journeys with the Grey Warden, but they were mostly controlled. This, this is different and unwelcome.

Fortunately, by the time dark is falling and the artificial lights that seem so excessive to him are coming on around the City, business as usual has mostly picked up again--at least in some places. The denizens of the City, newly freed from the spell, will be seeking contact with other adults. So the most popular of social places are scrambling to be ready for them--be they parks or clubs. Zevran's usual haunts are still getting their feet back under them: the gaming stores, the fantasy bookshops, they remain closed for now. But he's determined to take a positive view of things (all the better to forget how frightened and deluded he was before the spell ended). This is an opportunity to try out new grounds, to find out if the less nerdy demographics in the City are just as willing to enjoy the company of an attractive elf with a foreign accent and a ready smile.

And so begins this night's adventure: drifting from bar to pub to club, idly attempting to seduce the bouncers outside the latter, investigating the people within. And maybe keeping an eye out for anyone interesting outside, as well. It is a moderately cool night; he has an excuse for a jacket. Which means he can bring his dagger along, just in case violence enters the equation. He is not averse to that.

Comments

[niceassassin.livejournal.com]

That would make Zevran's life easier if he knew. He'd just go on not caring and reassuring himself that he wouldn't care even if she could get hurt. Alas, he doesn't know, so he has to deal with this faint, flickering, indistinct feeling of inchoate protectiveness.

Fortunately for him, he's pretty good at pushing it to the side.

He shakes his head. "I've never heard the word. I'm guessing they are not so common in your world."

[diesarock]

A nod here, her fingers playing once again with the glass before her. Perhaps it's a nervous habit, or merely to give her something else to focus on when she speaks. "They don't get along with humans," is a kind way of putting it. Describing a war and the abuses that had fallen the Espers at the hands of people was probably too much to go into. "So they went into hiding. Humans just about forgot they existed. But some doors don't stay locked forever...

"Espers are... hard to describe. They look like they could come from different species. Some look more human than others, and some look like beasts. What ties them together is their magic. They can't live without it."

[niceassassin.livejournal.com]

"That's good for them," Zevran observes, his voice a little more neutral than before, a little cynical. "It's amazing how long a memory the humans in my world have." He waves a hand dismissively as if to push the subject away, then moves on. "For their sake, then, I hope the magic stays, yes?"

[diesarock]

She looks up at that comment, a little startled. The idea of it leaving, it seems, is not one that she has thought about. "I don't think it can go. It can be taken from an Esper, but not from... all of them..."

Terra doesn't seem too sure about this, though.

[niceassassin.livejournal.com]

He blinks. "Rest easy, my dear. I wasn't serious."

Of course, neither of them know.

[diesarock]

And without intervention, neither will. In any case, there's not much Terra can do about it now. Not even dying sent her back to her own world, and each season has passed without journeying back; aside from Squall, who is a confusing manner all of his own, nobody has come here from her own world. She still misses the Moogle.

"Doesn't matter for now," she declares, shaking her head. "I can't change anything there... while I'm here."

And really, the more they talk about their own worlds, it seems, the more depressing the conversation. "Is there anything you like about this city?"

Transitions aren't her strong suit.