View source for 2253/Chatting Mages, Embarrassing Visions, and Illegal Goat Sacrifices

{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2015/05/15
|Location=Chicago-667
|Synopsis=Inga meets Dorian Pavus in the park in Chicago. The two recognize each other as mages from other worlds, have a lovely chat, an inconveniently intimate vision, then get arrested for illegal goat sacrifice in the park.
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|Cast of Characters=525, 774
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{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> Chicago, near sunset in late spring. The park is abloom as the sun grips the land and draws the plants back to life. Everywhere you look there's new grass growing, daffodils and tulips and dandelions. The trees have their young leaves and pollen covers the walkways and parch benches in a thin layer of golden dust. <br /><br /> The air is pleasantly warm, people strolling about the park talking or jogging with earbuds and ipods. <br /><br /> But not Inga. Inga is standing by one of the larger trees i the park, holding what appears to be a hallowed out cow's horn in one hand and a rope in the other. <br /><br /> The rope is attached to a goat, happily chewing grass, oblivious and content. The woman holding the horn is on the short side, standing no more than 5 feet and dressed oddly, wearing a hangerok style dress staight out of the viking age. It's quite stylish...for a thousand years ago. Her long white hair is braided and hangs over one shoulder. Inga raises the horn, mumbles something, then takes a sip of it's contents before replacing the leather cap and turning her attention to the goat. <br /><br /> She purses her lips, then looks around...<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Research!  That was paramount here.  Because not all of these worlds were the same.  Or the same technology level.  As he finds out when he enters this particular world.  'Modern', it's called.  Well, Dorian would definitely disagree on that point.  'Futuristic' would be more like it as far as he's concerned.  Buildings taller than the tallest trees!  Pathways of stone so smooth they looked as though they'd been poured rather than laid down!  Black streets along which some sort of vehicles zipped down faster than the fastest horse he'd ever seen!<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It's definitely ... something.  He's not sure what, but it's something.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Just one problem with it all.  So much innovation all around him ... and there's so little actual /life/ here.  Not too many trees, only small patches of grass before and behind houses, and only domestic animals on leashes.  Not even any livestock!<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Oh but there's a patch of grass.  A large patch of greenery, grass and trees, and walkways around and through it.  And not only that, but someone with a goat!  A herder maybe?  He doesn't recognize the style of dress.  Nonetheless, when she looks around, she's liable to see someone that looks somewhat ... out of place as well ...<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;In specific, a man in light leather armor, with a white cloak over it, carrying a staff with multiple serpent heads at the top.  Bronzed skin, gray eyes, well-groomed black hair with an undercut on the sides, and an immaculately cared-for moustache.  "Greetings!" he replies, if Inga happens to look in his direction.  He also bows politely to her.  <br> <br>

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> No, Dorian is most certainly not what she was expecting to see. She blinks several times before she makes any reply, shaking her head slightly as if to clear it. No, there is most certainly a man standing there in an outfit as strange as her own, greeting her (which people also don't do much of in the city). It does not take her long to figure out that he is not from around here, and likely a new arrival. Inga, now, she's been in Chicago for a bit. She just choosed to dress like a weirdo sometimes because she does not care and things modern fashion is just...bleh. <br /><br /> Except cashmere. Cashemere is lovely. <br /><br /> Inga regathers her wits and raises a hand in greeting. "Hail! Are you lost perhaps?" she asks, motioning him over. If she lets go of the goat it will likely wander off. <br /><br /> Said goat turns its eyes to Dorian and bleets a little before going back to nibbling on grass. <br /><br /> Inga takes in his appearance more, eyes focusing upon his staff. Eyebrows rise, curiosity piqued further. Nearby, leaning against the trunk of the tree, is also a staff. Carved oak, runes carved all along its length that would likely be unfamiliar to the other mage.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dorian doesn't pay the goat much mind.  "Lost?  Perhaps a bit," he allows.  He's not about to admit the truth ... he has NO CLUE where this is!  "Do forgive me for saying so, but I couldn't help but notice you seem ... slightly out of place too?"  After all there aren't a lot of people running around dressed like they are.  Dorian had seen one but he was disappointed to note the man had just been pretending.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And sure enough, Dorian blinks a little in surprise when he sees the staff leaning against the tree.  though it's also true that the runes are unfamiliar to him.  However, the staff is a sign that, at least in Thedas, is a rather telling one.  Mages generally don't have a good reputation, so if you don't /need/ a staff, most don't carry one.  "Oh!  Are you a mage as well?"  Yes, he's admitting it.  Because screw that whole 'apostate' thing anyway.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> Inga can't help but smile at his pointing out her strange manner of dress. Inga /does/ own modern clothing, though she managed to make even clothes bought at Macy's look old fashioned. Today she's had something particular in mind though, and so wanted to be in the clothing she was most comfortable in. Clothes that reminded her of home-both place /and/ time. <br /><br /> "Aye that is an acute observation," she teases, bowing slightly to him. <br /><br /> She follows her gaze to her own staff, then back to meet his eye. "Is it such a giveaway?" she asks, smiling still. She reaches over to pick up her staff, leading the goat over where she can tie it to a lamp post for the time being. It is clear from her obvious limp that the staff is practical in more ways than one. <br /><br /> Once the goat is dealt with, she looks back to Dorian. "Introductions I think are necessary. I am Inga Freyasdottir, wisewoman of Uppsala," she offers, obviously curious where this man is from and how he managed to get to Chicago. If he's a new arrival to the multiverse, he likely feels very out of place.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Ah-ha, he'd thought as much.  Though her tease draws a chuckle.  "I /am/ quite observant," he teases right back.  The mention of the staff gets a moment of thought, and he sobers a bit.  "Well...  Mages are not well thought-of where I'm from, you see.  Few want to be mistaken for mages when they only needed a bit of steadiness on a long trip."  He is, however, polite enough not to mention her limp.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Introductions!  That's right, he totally forgot about that.  As she offers her introduction, he places a hand at his chest, "Dorian of House Pavus, Altus mage of Tevinter.  How do you do?"  He pauses, to bow his head once more, politely.  Then he notes, with a trace of humor in his tone, "I expect the name 'Tevinter' is as unfamiliar to you as 'Uppsala' is to me."  Then, more seriously, "Well met, nonetheless."<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> Inga tilts her head slightly. "Really? Intersting. I imagine it is a rather long story?" she asks. "Yes, though, I am a mage. You would not know the words I would use, but since then, I have been called a witch and a Seer," she informs. While she doesn't understand all the information he gave with his name, she can assume that he not low-born. "A pleasure, Dorian of House Pavus," she answers, extending a hand. It is what is done around here and she has gotten into the habit-however unwise it often is for her. <br /><br /> "Are you new to the multiverse? I have indeed never heard of Tevinter...most people have not heard of my home either, even though it exists in this very world. I am from a world...similar to this one--except completely different," she sighs. That would make no sense to him, would it. Inga clears her throat. "This is essentially the future to me. A long story," she says, waving a hand dismissively.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Long story?  "Less long and more ... unpleasant.  Not a story for a first meeting," Dorian replies, with a wry smirk.  There's bitterness there in that smile, but it's not aimed at her.  It's aimed at the /reason/ it's an unpleasant story.  Though as she says 'witch', he blinks.  Before he goes and starts calling her a 'Witch of the Woods', though, he does point out, "I've heard the word 'witch' before.  Though it's likely not the same kind."  That's another tale he leaves for another time.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He nods to the question of being new.  "Somewhat, yes.  I believe Thedas has been part of this Multiverse for some time, but I'd not yet found time to visit outside it until recently."  He does seem a little confused at her mention of the same world but different.  Though he does seem to understand the concept of the future.  "Ah, I see.  Perhaps.  Your world would become like this one, given enough time?"<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Inga, though, might find that the nearness to Dorian may just bring up a few images ...<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;- <i>A man with severe-looking eyes, an angry look on his face.  Before him, Dorian -- but the moustache is smaller.  Younger?  His face is also angry, but more disturbed.  The severe-looking man's upper lip curls in distaste.  "Get out," he growls.  "You are no son of mine."</i> -<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;- <i>Dorian, as he is now, facing the severe man in what looks like an abandoned tavern.  There is someone in the background, but they are impossible to see.  Only that it is humanoid.  The severe man looks disturbed, and Dorian looks angry.  It's as if their positions had reversed.  "I'm never what you wanted, father, or had you forgotten?!"</i> -<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> Inga, while curious, does not pry. Indeed, it isn't ideal to go into complicated stories that are likely quite personal on first meeting. Goodness knows she has her own long, complicated, and unpleasant stories herself. <br /><br /> "Thedas...hmm, I have no heard of it. I haven't really been to many places though, really. I'm fairly new myself. It has...been less than a year," she says, blinking, as if this revelation surprised her. <br /><br /> Inga shakes her head to her thoughts. "Yes, it has become like this, more or less, though...I have seen little of it," she sighs. Her world is a complete and utter mess that they're all still dealing with. Also not really something to get into at the moment. <br /><br /> But all her best efforts not to pry are for naught, as she can't help but look at an image that flickered around him for a moment... <br /><br /> Then she's gone, whirling, yanked by the threat of wyrd and pulled with it into a vision. Dorian will see Inga suddenly go still, her body grown rigid. Her eyes roll back alarmingly, her lips parting to begin to comment on what she sees, a habit she can't seem to control when the vision takes her so violently. <br /><br /> "The burning gaze of the father, scorn and disgust written plain. 'You are no son of mine,' he snarls, his words cut deeper than any blade....But shame festers, regret finding purchase in long absense. The son has grown, he is a man of courage. Oh, regret..." she trails off, a shudder thundering over her body as she sags forward like a marionette who's strings have been cut. <br /><br /> Inga groans quietly as she attempts to recover. Not again!<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dorian had been about to comment when suddenly Inga ... well, he's actually not sure what's happening to her.  She looks like she's going into a fit of some kind.  A seizure?  She hasn't been infected by the Blight or something, has she?  Probably not, out this far.  But there may be ailments that are similar.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And then suddenly, words.  Spoken in a trance, in a daze.  Some sort of hedge-mage perhaps?  But the words are dead-on, and Dorian's brows draw together sharply at the words she speaks.  Particularly when she speaks the same words 'he' spoke that day ...<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He wants to step back, since it seemed to be when he got near that it happened.  But then she is looking as though she's about to collapse, and he makes to offer assistance if she seems to need it.  "Are you all right?"  He pauses, and then looks away, once he's sure she's not going to fall over.  " ... I apologize.  You shouldn't have had to see that."  Maker knows what else she'd find out if he's not careful.  There are a few particular secrets he doesn't want others to find out casually ...<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> Inga does fall over, but once on her knees she seems to begin pulling herself together again. The hands that reach to smooth her dress are visibly trembling. "I...will be," she answers, taking a few deep breaths. It wasn't, by far, the worst vision she'd ever seen but it was jarring. It is always jarring. <br /><br /> And very personal. <br /><br /> Inga's cheeks redden with embarrassment, especially when he apologized. She looks up, shaking her head. "No, I apologize. That's...it can often happen when I am close to someone--not all people, but some...trigger visions more than others," she explains with another small shudder. She seems to be recovering, but she's mortified. "I cannot help it when the Sight takes me like that...and I was trained to speak my visions," she sighs.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dorian looks embarrassed too!  But he's not upset at her.  From the looks of it, it seems Inga couldn't help what happened.  It's not a though she was purposely rooting around in his most personal memories, looking for the most painful to drag out and examine.  Who'd do something like that anyway?  Inga seems to polite to do such a thing.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;It's Dorian's nature to joke, particularly to divert attention away from his own issues.  So when Inga mentions that 'some people' trigger visions more often?  He laughs.  "You definitely have a good sense of taste then, if even your ... 'Sight', did you call it?"  A wait for confirmation and then, "It seems even your Sight can't deny my charm~!"<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He really is just teasing to get her mind to more pleasant subjects.  Namely himself~!  But he does take a step back, just in case.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> Inga nods. "Mmm. The Sight. I can see the wyrd--the tapestry of fate. Sometimes I am pulled forward, sometimes back. Visions of the future are usually nebulous, able to be changed, some paths more likely than others..." she trails off, shaking her head. "It is complicated," she says. <br /><br /> Inga pulls herself back to her feet with a bit of difficulty, using her staff to help. His jest gets a laugh, breaking a bit of the tension. "In the multiverse...people refer to many people as...elites. The people who travel throughout the multiverse and have...powers. People such as this tend to bring on my visions more strongly," she explains. <br /><br /> She noticed his distance, smiling softly. "I hope it will not happen again. It should not, not for a bit anyway," she says, glancing away for a moment. "Still, there may well be a reason I have seen what I saw, and perhaps that reason will someday be made clear. In the meantime, perhaps I can make it up to you. I can show you the best tavern in these parts," she says, smile returnig. Yes, ale would help, right? <br /><br /> "First though, I have to deal with the goat," she says, and moves to untie the goat and bring it back toward the tree. <br /><br /> Then she pulls a knife from her belt.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dorian seems a ltitle surprised.  "You saw the future?"  Regarding his father?  "What did you see?"  He knew she'd seen then his father sent him away.  But not really anything else.  Her words of the present are true, but he's not sure what exactly she saw.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;'Elites'.  He's heard that word before.  "They referred to me as an 'elite' when I registered with the Syndicate."  So there's his affiliation there, if she was interested.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;As for the visions not happening again?  Dorian gives a slightly nervous smile.  "I hope not," he admits.  "I'm sure it's true of others as well, but I have ... secrets that I don't want getting out casually."  And then he blinks as he notices Inga going towards the goat with a knife drawn.  He's seen animals buchered before, but well ...  "Er ... not that I'm particularly squeamish, but is /here/ really the place for this?"<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> Inga nods slightly. "Yes, but it is only a possibile future. One that is perhaps liklier than other paths...but still only possible," she replies, taking a deep breath and letting it out slow. <br /><br /> "Ah, syndicate hmm? I was there before I was recruited by the Union. Though the two are not exclusive," she explains. There's her affiliations! <br /><br /> A soft sigh. "Of course. I understand. I will...try. All that I have seen, and all that I could see...I will not tell. I am a Seer and I have my honor," she adds. <br /><br /> She then looks between the knife and the goat. "This is the only place near here with any trees...I must make sacrifice to the land so that we have a good harvest," she explains. "Do not worry, it will be quick," she assures, then turns toward Mr. Doomed Goat. <br /><br /> Inga looks upward, holding her arms out to her side in a position of prayer. "In honor of Freyr and Freya and the spirits of this land I make this sacrifice, a gift for a gift!" she says, then turns and quite efficiently slits the goat's throat. <br /><br /> Naturally, she does this just as a police officer is walking by. Someone must have tipped him off to a crazy lady with a goat in the park. "Hey! Put the knife down! You can't do that here!" he says, moving toward them. Inga blinks, putting her knife away, blood pouring from the goat's body into the ground. "Both of you, put your hands up!" <br /><br /> ....And that is how Inga got Dorian arrested.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dorian actually understands the whole sacrifice thing.  And his definition of 'blood magic' is actually quite different than the usual one in Thedas.  To him, as long as everyone involved is a willing participant in the sacrifice, there's no harm done.  Or in this case, if it's an animal.  Hopefully the animal wouldn't go to waste.  Still.  "There's not a less public place?  A mountain, a--"<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;He is suddenly interrupted by someone shouting!  A constable, from the looks of it!  Or someone with a shiny badge anyway.  And that object that's being pointed at them doesn't look particularly friendly.  Dorian may not realize that what exactly the thing is, but if the constable views it as suitable versus a mage and a woman with a knife, it's likely a weapon.<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;With not other real hoice, Dorian raises his hands at head-level, palms forward, to show they are empty.  "I had nothing to do with this, sir.  I'm merely a visitor."  Yes, he is totally throwing Inga under the bus.  Though maybe not completely.  "She is merely showing respect to her gods.  Didn't I hear something about 'freedom of religion' in this world?"  His voice is kept even and polite, but he's really not looking forward to ending up in a cell.<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:525|Inga (525)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span> The officer insists on bringing them both in for questioning, making one of the weirdest calls in his life as he asks to have a goat corpse picked up. Inga rants all the while about how she was going to eat it and it had better be properly taken care of because it was not cheap! <br /><br /> Inga looks to Dorian, wincing. "Don't worry, I'll get this sorted out," she assures him sheepishly. She's completely mortified. <br /><br /> It'll just help his bad boy image, right?<br> <br>

:'''{{#var:774|Dorian Pavus (774)}} has posed:'''<br><span></span>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Dorian, for his part, tries to explain that he was just passing through and had never set foot in this city, or even in this world.  Hopefully this is not one of the worlds that don't believe in the Multiverse, or don't know about it.  Because if not, they're about to learn in a very quick, unfortunate way!<br /><br />&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;But the constable still wants an official statement, and insists Dorian go to 'the station' to deliver it.  Now, Dorian knows the tone -- that's not a request, that's an order.  He sighs, cursing under his breath, "Kaffas.  All right then, let's get this over with."  Inga gets a look.  Though Dorian smiles at her statement.  "That would be appreciated," he answers as they're led to the car.  "It isn't as though I'm not accustomed to being a rebel.  But not being in prison is definitely preferrable."<br> <br>


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