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WHO:

sassyqueermage, OPEN
WHERE: Outside the Tower.
WHEN: Today, early evening.
WARNINGS: Sassiness.
SUMMARY: Anders wants a drink. Badly. However, he has no idea where to look.
FORMAT: Prose.

After several minutes of fussing with his radio/communicator/demon box, he had opened up the text file Grace had sent him. He saw several names of what he presumed were pubs, but just to play it safe, he went with the establishment that actually had 'pub' in its name. Joe's Pub sounded good and straightforward. He liked that.

Slipping the radio/communicator/demon box into his bag, his hand skimmed over Ser Pounce-a-lot's back and he smiled as he picked up the cat from the depths of his bag. He slung his bag over his shoulder with his free arm and stood up to begin his trek through this monstrous city.

"Come on, Pounce. Let's hope we don't get ambushed by an ogre or another broodmother," he shivered, beginning to walk.

Then he realized he actually had no idea where he was going.

There were too many signs pointing in more than one direction and he hasn't even begun being freaked out by the fast vehicles on the road (at first he thought it was something he was going to have to kill, but on closer inspection he noticed people in them steering like one would do on a ship).

He could always ask someone for directions as much as it bruised his ego to do so. And he used to be so good at directions.

"Excuse me--can you spare a second--hello, will you--" Anders felt like he was talking to himself with these people brushing past and ignoring the apostate with a big MAGE sign on his back. With the way he was dressed differently, he thought that would at least give him some notice.

Anders looked down at Ser Pounce, absentmindedly scratching behind his ear. "Looks like this is the end of the road, Ser Pounce-a-lot. No food. No drink. Rude people everywhere--" he shot the next person he saw with a venomous look. "--and a demonic box for company.".

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What does a police officer do but help people in need? Granted, apparition was all well and good, and James did do it when he was in a hurry, but sometimes he just enjoyed the walk to the police station. This was one of those times, and he quirked an eyebrow as he saw that mage fellow with the cat, looking a bit lost.

"Hallo," he says cheerfully, heading over with a little wave. "You look a bit -- well, disgruntled, I suppose. Need any help? Or to find the MAC? Something?"

"Oh, good fellow mage James! What a coincidence to see you here while my cat and I are starving," he grinned despite himself. Finally.

He wanted to say that James looked like a normal fellow with a normal name, but considering the crowd Anders ran with, it wouldn't make sense for James to be normal. There were a few things off such as the see-through glass over his eyes and his clothes which were nothing like robes. And this man called himself a mage.

"Disgruntled, frustrated, crying on the inside--we could go on forever. What's a MAC?"

"Well, I do help people. I think I can take care of the starving, if you'd like to grab something to eat," he grinned back.

Anders, of course, was wearing robes, which -- well, were hard to come by, here. It wasn't impossible, but it was a lot of bother James didn't want to deal with, not when he doesn't have to. When he's not at work, James usually settles for jeans and a t-shirt, or something of that nature. Muggle clothes. Makes it easier to blend in.

"The MAC is the housing complex they have for, er, people like you and me. ImPorts. It's not the greatest, but it's free and it's a place to stay. I live with my mates a bit away from there, at Remus' house."

"I'd love to." Food, food, food. At least the offer for free food was a step up from Fereldon.

His whole body went rigid at the brief explanation of the MAC. It sounded eerily similar to the Circle except James was walking about like nobody's business. Maybe this world had their own version of it and it was more lax? But it still sounded...wrong to him.

"Do they have any dirt here? Maybe a nice patch of grass? Because I could probably make good use of that instead."

"Excellent, there's a pub down the street."

He blinked a little at Anders' reaction to his description of the MAC. It was just an apartment building, no reason to react that way. Oh, well. He supposed he'd find out later, anyway.

"Er. There's ..Central Park? I think camping there might be sort've illegal, though. Or if you don't want to go the free route, you could make arrangements with someone who owns another building, I guess."

"Why would it be illegal to set up camp? I'm not planning on scaring the locals--well, I would have to bathe. Does it have a pond? Lake?" He asked hopefully though if necessary he wouldn't object to living in a building as well as long as it did not plan on keeping him there forever.

"I don't know, Muggle laws are odd, I think it'd be counted as loitering or some such." James shrugged. "But I figured I should warn you anyway, considering I'm, er, a sort of police officer. The MAC really isn't bad, though, and you can move out whenever you've got enough money saved up," he continued.

"I used to live there with my wife," he added, looking a little wistful. "Before she got sent back home, anyway."

Muggle. Police officer. Anders nodded and smiled, "so there are no religious ties? Templars around every corner? I can come and go as I please?"

At least he understood what a wife was and the implication of getting sent back intrigued him. "Where do I apply to get sent back home?"

"No religious ties whatsoever, to my knowledge." James nodded, then grinned a little sheepishly. "Sorry, sorry, I forgot. Muggles -- it's my world's term for non-magic people. And, er, a police officer ...I guess it'd be a bit like a city guard? It's sort of what I used to do back home, so I figured it would be easy enough to do the same here."

A pause. "You don't exactly apply. It just happens. When I first got here, I was 16. Then I got sent home at the same point I left, lived five years, and came back just as my wife and child were getting attacked by the evilest wizard ever. Sort of a problem, really."

"You have your own term for people who aren't mages?" He inquired. He processed the information, sorting it all out as best he could. The MAC wasn't tied to any religious organizations, was free, and he could leave any time. It did not sound that bad actually. Anders might have to poke around when given the chance.

It was also nice to have another mage to keep him company. He felt at ease with other mages as long as they weren't practicing blood magic or trying to rip his balls off. James was not a Fereldon mage, but he was one nonetheless and a kindred spirit.

"So, they just pick you up and throw you around whenever they feel like it? Rude. Er, sorry about your wife and child." He should have added that last part in the first place. Anders sighed. Serious topics were not his specialty. "Maybe you'll get lucky and get thrown back in time to save them?"

"Yeah. Wizards in my world, we ..tend to keep to ourselves. But there are a few Muggle-born witches and wizards that pop up every now and again. Lily -- my wife's Muggle-born, completely brilliant."

He shrugged a bit. "I dunno. My mates here -- I knew them at home, too, but they're older here, older than me, I mean -- they said I die protecting Harry and Lily from the dark wizard. Which is all well and good, but I don't think there's a way to change it. Harry's destined to save the world and all, apparently."

"Then slap my bottom and call me Muggle-born," he grinned. His parents did not have the gift. He was the only one as far as he knew. "And no one bothers you at all?"

It sounded a bit too good to be true. Still, here's hoping mages in alternate worlds got the better end of the staff except for poor James, dying and yet living and breathing beside him.

"You...you die? And you're okay with that?" Anders could not imagine a single situation in which he would be comfortable dying. He always had a chance to fight when the templars caught up with him, but he came back willingly each time, switching to bothering them needlessly rather than aggressive action. He rather liked not being dead.

"Well, we're fighting a war, sort of." He shrugged a bit and grinned back. "Against that dark wizard, he's all for -- you know, pureblood wizards, no mixing with Muggles, absolute power, blah blah blah. So we do get, er, more than a few of his followers bothering us, but that's a really long story. That witch I mentioned when you got here? Bellatrix? She's one of them."

Well, if they're not fighting in the wizarding war they do, at least?

"I'm --" He paused. "I wasn't, when I first heard about it. That was when I was first here, when I was sixteen. But since going home and coming back --" He trailed off, thoughtful, for a moment, and then continued. "I would do anything to protect Lily and Harry. Absolutely anything, even die. From the little I've heard about Harry when he grows up, he's completely brilliant."

Pureblood spoke for itself as did dark wizards. Too bad Bellatrix was a bad witch (maybe Anders's charms can convert her). James's description vaguely reminded him of the Tevinter Imperium which gave Anders an idea. "Why don't they just shove off and form their own country?"

It was only the logical thing to do.

"That's..." something Anders would never do, having no child or wife of his own or any family he knew of really. He only had his mother's pillow to go on and even then, he valued his own life more. "admirable."

"...Because then they'd probably try and take over the entire world? And that would be bad." James stared at him a little.

"But they won't. Hopefully. Unless the divination's wrong. Always thought that stuff was a bit odd." He shrugged, then, and gave Anders a slight grin. "Thanks? I suppose."

"But they'd get to have their own country! Why would they need the world?" Then again, that did not stop the Tevinter Imperium from trying. Anders shook his head. "On second thought, maybe that would be a bad idea."

What was the proper etiquette on admiring someone who sacrificed their life for their loved ones? He would have asked Justice as he was the closest thing to this type of experience, but the spirit would just ramble on about blah blah blah.

"You're welcome. I guess." Awkward. "Are we almost there?"

"Because they think they can have it? They think they can make it better? I don't know, I don't pretend to understand power-hungry insane purebloods." Never mind the fact that James himself is a pureblood, just one with more sense than Voldemort's followers. At least in his opinion.

"Oh! Er. Yeah, it's just up there." He gestures at a pub a ways down the block. "Not the same as home, of course, but it's close. At least for me."

"As long as it serves cheap beer and has a warm fire, I will be fine." He could give or take the dwarves and late night scuffles.

"Cheap beer, yes, but it's a bit hot for a fire, don't you think?" James grinned and headed down the street.

"Mmm, maybe I should see if the Leaky Cauldron exists here, could take you sometime. There's a proper pub. Maybe next time I've got a chance to pop across to England."

"That's what I always say, but it sets a certain mood to the place, don't you think?" He followed closely behind him and occasionally shot glances at his surroundings, putting it to memory. "Now that's a proper pub name if I ever heard one. How far is England?"

"Oh, er, across the Atlantic." He waved in the general direction of the ocean and frowned a bit. "It was a bloody great pub, but I don't know if it properly exists here, you know? I haven't had a chance to look."

"Then why don't we look?" Since, y'know, Anders doesn't know what an Atlantic is.

"Because it'd be a bit hard to get across the ocean?" James gave him an amused look. "Well, maybe it wouldn't be, but I don't want to chance apparition or anything across that big of a distance."

"Give a mage a break. We do not have Englands or Atlantics or radios." He took that moment to take his out of from inside his robes and wave it around, because emphasis was important. "Luckily we have everything in Fereldon on one piece of land."

"Yes, well, great huge body of water," James explained, waving his arms around in the direction of the ocean. Emphasis was important. "Can't teleport across it, is what I'm trying to say."

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