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Who: Mystique & [open]
Where: The training center!
When: Afternoon of March 14
Rating: PG-13 to start?
Summary: Aggression is best taken out on inanimate objects, if one wants to avoid undesirable consequences.
The Story: [Perhaps it was the annoying overgrowth of plants that occurred after the sky threw false memories down at the ground, or the fact that people seemed to be reuniting in droves in this place, but today Mystique was feeling particularly irritable. She still had nobody from home here, and while she would tell most people to their faces that this was a good thing ... it didn't mean she didn't still miss her brother. Idiotic and idealistic as he was, there had been an alarming number of instances here where she'd thought it would be a lot easier to have him around than to face things alone.

It was this particularly rotten mood that had sent her to the training facility today -- she shows no sign of stopping the punches that she's throwing at the punching bag suspended from the roof despite a chorus of somewhat worrisome creaks coming from the chain holding it up.

At this rate she's going to bloody her knuckles -- or she would, if she hadn't already thought to thicken her skin there just a little.

Approach with caution, friends.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The training centre isn't a place Alistair has much use for, preferring to do his practice outside under the sky. Besides, he's not sure whoever runs the place would appreciate him taking a sword to their equipment. But that's not to say he never bothers with the place. It can be interesting to see other people training and get some idea of how they fight.

Today, he's on his way to see if Robyn is in her room when the sound of someone rather enthusiastically pummeling away in there stops him. Sticking his head inside he spots Mystique almost immediately - she does kind of stand out just a little - and quietly slips in to watch her. She's rather intent on the bag before her and he considers just leaving her to it. When he's trying to work something out by beating up an inanimate object he generally prefers not to be disturbed. But sometimes it's not so bad to have company too and she can always tell him to leave if she wants to keep punishing the bag.

Circling around closer to her - but still keeping out of arms reach - he calls out-] Now I definitely don't want to get on your bad side.

[Keeping out of arms reach is a good plan, because she would probably have tried to draw him in for a grapple just to tease him. There's few people that she'd be happier to have interrupt her from this place, as it happens. Their conversations might've been few, but they've certainly been less stabby than some of her encounters.

She cracks a smile, shaking out her hands while she's taking her little break.]

You're safe, for now. Just don't go asking me to shapeshift into some princess from your world so you can stare at her and you'll probably be fine.

[She sighs, wiping her hands on her shirt and turning to give Alistair a little more proper attention.]

And miss being able to stare at you instead? [He pauses, making a show of looking her over and grins.] You could put on a crown if you want.

[That might be a little funnier to him than her. Ah well.

Now that she's stopped hitting things Alistair feels safer about venturing closer - as unwise as that may be. He comes over to Mystique's side and studies the abused bag with a critical eye, turning to face her after a long moment.]

Did it say something rude about you? Insult your family? Or worse - your fashion sense?

[Funnier or not, she's going to take him seriously if only because he's flattering her saying that he prefers this form. Soon enough, she's donning a princess tiara and placing her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised at him.]

There.

[Once he steps closer and asks her about the bag's crimes, she manages little more than a frown for a moment or two.]

-- nothing, I guess. Innocent victim of circumstance. I'm sure it's all very tragic.

[Alistair nods in approval. It's a bit odd, seeing her just change like that to make jewellery - and raises some questions, like can she take it off? - but it's still less of-putting than Morrigan turning into a spider. He's not about to complain.]

The prettiest princess I've ever seen. The only princess. But also the prettiest!

[His questions about the evil bag don't get quite the response he expected though and his smile slips a little at the look on her face.]

I'm sure it still had it coming. [He pauses, watching her then-] Something on your mind?

[If he really wanted to know, she'd tell him. She'd be able to take it off as long as she was touching it, but it'd be a really damned difficult illusion to pull off. It'd involve a lot more concentration than she probably wanted to put into something like that.]

You live in a world full of knights and dragons and you've never seen a princess? That seems kind of weird.

[She sees the way the smile slips, and she swallows for a moment before she answers.]

A lot of things, I guess.

[She huffs out a breath and drops down on the nearby mat on her butt.]

I think I'd need a drink of I'm going to talk about it with anyone else.

[That's her way of asking if he's game.]

I met the queen once. Does that count?

[Though Anora was nowhere near as easy to get along with as Mystique. And he'd even say Mystique was prettier. She didn't look like she'd just stepped in something foul whenever he was around for starters.]

Sounds serious. [He can't help trying to bring some lightness to the conversation, dropping to one knee before her and offering a hand.] Shall I escort you to the drinking establishment of your choice then, my lady?

[Although they really only have a few options. But at least there's never a shortage of drinks to help her say what's bothering her and they don't have to worry about paying.]

It definitely counts. I'd have to go across the ocean to even chance running into anyone who would still call themselves a queen in a non-dramatic sense.

[She at least has the good sense to wipe herself off with the towel she'd brought with her before taking Alistair's hand. She still thinks he's terribly handsome, after all, and he's been nothing but kind to her -- that means she's interested, in her way. She allows the help up, managing a half-smile.

Okay, she appreciates the lightness a little.]

Fair warning - I don't drink like a lady.

[It's probably got something to do with her powers. She nods toward the door.]

The bar's not far.

[He'd hardly have been bothered if she did just grab him whilst all sweaty - given the things he's gotten covered with and then spent hours walking around in a little sweat isn't even worth noticing. And it's not like she smells bad from it. Nowhere near it. But the other bar patrons will doubtless appreciate the consideration all the same.

Pulling Mystique to her feet he leads the way out the door and towards the bar, glancing back at her as he walks.]

You don't? Whew. I was worried I'd have to remember to stick my pinky out and avoid belching.

[It's almost a pity - he's heard that there's some rather strange drinks available at the bar here. Under different circumstances he'd be interested in sampling a few. But he's not going there to have fun - unless Mystique decides she needs a distraction more than anything, in which case he'll gladly oblige.]

[She refrains from telling him that working as a waitress for as long as she did at a pub had taught her that the ones that refrained from belching were usually the ones that ended up tossing their cookies pretty early in the evening, since that isn't exactly a situation she wants to conjure up. Knowing her luck, it would just mean she'd end up throwing up later (even with her accelerated metabolism).]

If you did that, I'd probably just end up falling out of my chair laughing.

[At least it would mean a lift in her mood -- although Alistair's already helping with that. It's easy to isolate yourself and forget that there are people here who have offered her support, even if she hasn't taken advantage of it earlier to keep herself from getting this bad. While they walk, she thinks up some small talk.]

Most of the time I've been in a bar has been spent serving drinks. It's almost weird to come to the place here and just -- order stuff.

So long as you're the only one laughing at me I won't mind.

[Which means he will definitely be trying it at some point. The pinky sticking out, not so much the belching. He has some manners. And hopefully the tolerance not to end up revisiting his lunch. Mystique doesn't need to deal with that. He doesn't need to deal with that. Grey Warden stamina must count for something and he has had a bit of practice lately, courtesy of Anders. He'll be fine.]

Sounds to me like you need the change then. You must have gotten all the bad bits with none of the fun of making an embarrassment of yourself and passing out on the floor.

[Not that he's speaking from experience there. Much.]

Fair warning though, I'm going to be relying on your expertise if you want anything more than ale. My time in bars has been a bit limited no matter what I'm doing.

Well, that's a pity -- what the people who work at bars don't want you to know is that the girlier the drink looks, the more alcohol it probably has in it.

[She'll have to make him a few Long Island iced teas to prove her point, if the bartender isn't around. Mystique has been doing very little drinking since she's been more or less by herself here.]

Ale is what they serve to the guys so they can take the ladies home once they lose all their inhibitions.

[Except -- that's kind of a depressing train of thought to follow. She shrugs her shoulders.]

Ah- [Alistair stumbles a little. He's not dumb - he knows that happens in taverns a lot. Has seen plenty of drunken fumbling in corners the times he's been to one. But it's still not a thought they need to be dwelling on. Pausing at the top of the stairs he turns to face her, hand pressed to his heart and a hopeful smile on his face.] You have my word if you drink too much the only thing I'll take you home for is to put you to bed. Alone.

[And he'll do his best not to make Mystique have to try and carry him home - or back to his room really. He weighs a bit more than her and if it turns out she can move him when he's a useless dead weight he'll just be embarrassed. And impressed.]

But I don't think you have much to worry about. Most of the women I know can drink me under the table. That's including the one old enough to be my grandmother.

[Maybe not such a surprise given her earlier comment about girly drinks.]

And what if I don't drink too much, but still want you to take me home and put me to bed?

[Not alone. She's not terribly subtle, unfortunately, and she doesn't think she's made it a secret that she finds him attractive. She might be looking for a distraction that you don't want to supply, Alistair.]

If you drink enough to slide under the table, though, I promise not to take advantage.

[She lifts a hand up, two fingers in the air.] Scout's honor.

Ah- Ha. [She really is going to make him swallow his own tongue one day.] I... can walk you back sure?

[The words come out more of a squeak than anything else. She really is attractive, he hasn't been lying about that and, given her usual state of dress, he's... had thoughts. It's hard not to when she says things like that, even if he's not convinced she's not just teasing him. And maybe he's wondered what would happen if he kissed her but that seems like he'd be moving awfully fast.

Laughing nervously Alistair latches onto Mystique's next words as a distraction before he blurts out something stupid.]

Oh good. I'd like to keep what's left of my dignity as long as possible.

[And look, they're at the bar! Hopefully it's darker inside so no one can see how red his face is. Holding the door open for her he tries to move to a safer topic of conversation.]

Who were you a scout for?

[It's very hard to avoid making comments like that when she knows she'll get a reaction out of him, even if she really is sincere about it. Don't worry, Alistair -- if anyone's going to make a move that's incredibly fast, it's probably going to be her.

After all, the last real romantic interlude she'd had with someone had started off with him drawing a vial of her blood. Not exactly a grade-A romantic setting, but she'd always felt like she had to take advantage of any situation she might be given.

She steps inside, tossing a smirk over her shoulder when he asks who she was a scout for.]

For the American government, for a while, until they tried to kill me. And after that, I guess I was kind of a spy for my own people's movement. Does that count as being a 'scout'?

Otherwise, it's just an expression -- a lot of kids who grow up as do-gooders were scouts, so...

[She waves her hand to the side.]

[Sincere or not, Mystique's not the only person to find Alistair's reactions to such talk entertaining. Part of the reason he takes it all as little more than teasing. Maybe one day he'll reach a point where he doesn't blush so easily and so such teasing is less common but it doesn't seem likely to happen any day soon.

He frowns when she admits to being a spy, curious as to the story behind it all but simply nods in answer.]

I think so? [It sounds close enough anyway. Even if the whole 'do-gooders trained as scouts' bit doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Following Mystique inside he glances around carefully, just in case Isabela is present. There's only the one bar and he gets the impression she might spend a bit of time in places like this. Luckily there's no sign of the pirate at the moment. Hopefully she won't turn up and decide to come share her advice on drinks. He's been warned off anything she might offer.]

Your... abilities must have made spying easy.

[Most people need to avoid being seen or recognised. She could just... make herself look ike the general of an army, walk in and stop his treachery right there. Definitely the kind of spy anyone would want on their side.]

Easy until someone designed a mutant-detector, at least.

[Although she somehow doubts that any of Trask's inventions were going to see the light of mass-production day any time soon, given the disaster that had been caused by his Sentinel program.

She sees that frown, Alistair. If you're going to ask her about her spying, she's definitely going to have to have a drink or two first. Once they're inside, she takes note of the fact that he's looking around -- presumably for a specific person, or lack thereof -- as she motions toward one of the empty booths.]

I'll grab us something from the bar and you can make yourself comfortable. That way, I'll still kind of feel like a waitress.

[As previously devised, she comes back with two long island iced teas a short time later, and sets one down in front of him with an expectant eyebrow raise.]

Should we have a toast?

Since you're offering.

[Then he'll do as instructed and take a seat, idly looking around as he lets Mystique handle the drinks. She certainly knows what she's doing more than he does. And likely has better taste.

Although that doesn't stop Alistair eyeing the drink that's placed in front of him uncertainly. It's not ale or wine or mead and so falls firmly outside of his experience with alcohol. But Mystique wouldn't give him something awful... Alright, she might as a prank but she wouldn't expect him to drink the whole thing or make herself one too so he should be safe.

Taking the glass he tilts it towards her with a nod.]

What are we toasting? Good friends? Being kidnapped? Making good friends after being kidnapped? [Or, considering what brought them here in the first place-] Avoiding our problems?

[With her weird mutant metabolism, drinks like these are the ones that she prefers -- and they taste pretty great, which is a nice bonus.

She slides into the booth opposite him (for now, she doesn't think it's a good idea to crowd him when his inhibitions are probably still intact) and picks up her own drink with a wry smile.]

How about 'to avoiding the problems our kidnappers have caused'?

[It seemed accurate, at least. She raises her glass in turn to clink against his.]

-- so, to that.

Sounds perfect to me.

[He's all for avoiding problems, regardless of the source. With a clink of glasses Alistair takes a swig of his drink-

And... does not spit it out. But it's a close thing. Eyes watering, he carefully sets down the glass and wheezes at Mystique-]

Maker! You weren't joking about that being strong!

[If he's not careful she might have to fish him out from underneath the table after all.]

...I probably should have told you it was a sipping drink, huh? My bad.

[She does at least seem genuinely sorry, if only because she wasn't expecting him to take a swig of it instead of a more cautious sip.

She takes a smaller sip of her own and smiles. Apparently it's to her satisfaction.]

So, we're not talking about me yet. Did you have any traumatic memory-related falling-star incidents you want to get off your chest?

[Alistair waves aside the apology. He should have started out more cautiously, given the things he's drunk in the past he should know better. He'll remember for the future.

Taking a more cautious sip that's less overwhelming than the first attempt, he considers how to answer.]

I wouldn't say traumatic... [He hesitates, wondering if he should make a joke out of that whole mess or not. But it sounds as though Mystique saw something that bothered her that she wants to talk about and he doesn't want to put her off.] I saw Duncan in one. It was... It's been a while.

[Right, she remembers him mentioning Duncan before. The man had seemed important to him, so maybe Alistair can sympathize with how the memories made her feel. She frowns.]

I was younger in the ones I saw, and people weren't treating me like I was some sort of freak.

[She takes another slow sip of her drink.]

All it really did was remind me that I didn't remember anything like that. Who doesn't love re-living childhood trauma, right?

[Ugh.]

[That sounds far worse than seeing Duncan again had been. At least he had mostly good memories to look back on, no matter how much he misses the older man. It still hurt but it wasn't a reminder of things he'd never had.]

I'm sorry. I know how difficult that must have been.

[Like having a family you never had dangled in front of your face and then taken away. Reaching out he squeezes Mystique's hand.]

And I'm sorry you were treated like that growing up. You deserve better.