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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

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.

[She can't help the slightly bitter laugh when he states she deserves better, although she does turn her hand over so she can return the squeeze to his. She does appreciate it, and she should try to show as much.]

I don't think people usually get what they deserve, for better or worse.

[Trask had managed to escape being killed despite all the mutants he'd mercilessly murdered -- all so that she could prevent the world from becoming an even worse place without him in it.

She glances down to their hands, stricken as always by how different a 'real' skintone looks against hers. She's ... not letting go of his, just yet.]

But -- thanks. I know this place isn't all bad, it's just hard a lot of the time.

[Alistair is no hurry to reclaim his hand, letting his thumb trace idle circles against Mystique's skin as he watches her across the booth. It is a little odd seeing the physical difference between them thrown into such stark contrast, yet despite them she has many of the same doubts as other people.]

Not often. But sometimes.

[And justice is still something worth striving for, as difficult as it can be to achieve. But that doesn't fix what's already been - like Mystique's childhood or the lives lost because of one man's treachery.]

I know. Or I can imagine. [He has plenty of people from his home to talk to if he needs to. He might not have known most of them before but their home is mostly the same and they face mostly the same problems in Wonderland. Being stuck here alone must be a lot harder to cope with.] Did you see anyone you knew in those things? From your home?

I guess my definition of what people deserve might not be the same as other peoples'.

[She knows that Charles, for one, disapproved of her plan to kill Trask on grounds more than just not wanting her to ruin the future. He liked to think of her as far more moral than she actually was. She manages a small smile when he asks whether she saw anyone she knew.]

No. Even in memories of this place that never happened, I don't get to see anyone from home.

[She knows she'd told him before that it was for the best, but she's starting to regret saying that. She misses just -- familiar faces and voices.]

[She might be surprised by how much Alistair would agree with her definition of deserving compared to others. Killing a man for murdering others without cause certainly isn't something he could or would judge others for. It's justice, nothing more. Not everyone who deserves it gets it but it's something worth trying for.]

I'm sorry. [He's not sure if that means anything, that she didn't see people she knew in those strange images. Or that seeing Duncan had meant something. But it had been... good, to see the other man's face again, no matter how much Alistair missed him. To be here alone and not even have a glimpse of those she cares about while others do must be difficult. If only he could offer more than just sympathy.] Did you want to talk about them? Your brother or others from your home? It can help.

[Or it has for him, when he's been able to talk about Duncan. But he'll understand if she'd rather not. He's never met the people Mystique might be missing and can't offer to do much more than listen.]

[Surprisingly few people have asked her the story of how she and Charles came to live together. None of the other mutants had seemed very interested in it -- maybe they'd thought that she was just his weird, non-accented sister and that was the end of the story. It wasn't.

She swirls her mostly-empty glass in her free hand, thinking about the words she's going to choose to tell the tale. How what she'll say will make her look.]

...I think I told you that Charles took me in.

[She drains her glass, setting it back on the table.]

I didn't tell you I was stealing food from his kitchen, I don't think. Or that I tried to pretend to be his mother and send him back to bed.

He knew I was lying, and he wasn't afraid of me. It was the first time since I'd gotten my powers that someone wasn't horrified by me.

[She swallows, wishing she hadn't finished her drink, and starts to push herself up from the table.]

And then he spent a lot of our lives trying to get me to hide like I was some sort of shameful freak.

[With that, she heads to the bar for a refill. She isn't gone long, though, and sets two more drinks down in front of them.]

So, long story short -- I'm not sure if I miss him or not. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I never want to see his face again.

[Alistair nods as Mystique begins her story, listening silently with a frown that grows the more she speaks. When she leaves he watches her go, finishing off the remainder of his own drink as he thinks over the story and waits for her to return.]

For what it's worth he must have cared about you. I don't think that makes treating you like that OK but I'm sure he wouldn't have taken you in and stayed by you if he didn't care.

[Taking the new glass he sips at the contents, staring down at it as he tries to figure out how to say exactly what he wants to in a way that might help, eventually giving up and just speaking the words as they come.]

Sometimes... people who care about you don't always act like they do. They might have good reasons for it or they might not but it doesn't meant they don't care.... Or that's what I think.

[He glances up at Mystique, shoulders hunched uncertainly. There's not a lot in common between her story and his own childhood in Redcliffe, but he remembers how much he'd regretted not saying something to Arl Eamon when he heard of the man's illness. When he'd thought he might never have another chance to speak to the older man he'd wished that he hadn't been so stubborn when the Arl came by the Chantry to see him. He'd hate for Mystique to experience the same thing with her brother.]

You'd miss him if anything happened to him, wouldn't you?

[She'd just gotten them another round of the same drink -- there were enough alcohols in the thing that mixing any more in just seemed like tempting fate -- and she takes a long pull of her drink before she's able to respond to his words.

The problem with her relationship with Charles was that she'd always known he cared, but it had felt so often like he'd tried to baby her and protect her that she'd gotten more annoyed than anything else.

She sighs deeply, stirring her drink absently with the straw she'd picked up for it and not looking Alistair in the eye.]

I know he cares about me -- and yeah, I'd miss him if anything happened to him. I missed him when we didn't talk for a decade.

[She glances up to him, brows knitted together. That was part of what made this place so frustrating, too.]

Not too long before I got here, I thought we'd finally started turning back around to the right way. He didn't want to control me any more, but then --

[She waves a hand off to the side, perhaps a little too forcefully than necessary,]

-- I was here. So that's in limbo, you know?

I can imagine how difficult that must be. Not knowing can be worse than bad news.

[And worse than that, there's no way for her to get an answer. Not while they're stuck here, unless her brother shows up. And even then it might not help, if he were to remember things differently to her or come from a different time.

Heaving a sigh of his own Alistair takes another, more measured gulp of his drink, watching Mystique over the rim of the glass.]

I think this place just likes toying with us sometimes. Maybe there is a demon behind it all.

[He'd prefer it in a way. Demons are intentionally cruel and can be slain. If Wonderland has no driving force or motive then there's no reason for why anything happens and no purpose to any of their misery. Which just doesn't sit right with him.]

Not knowing is definitely worse than bad news.

[She's all too aware of what being here means, and there's no doubt that it's what's caused her frustrations to boil over in this place.

She sees him watching her over the rim of her glass, though, and manages a slight smile as she meets his eyes over her own.]

It isn't all bad, though.

[In some ways, she thinks that being happy here could be some sort of slap in the face to whoever had brought them here to torment them.

She understands the desire to have a person or thing to demonize, though. It's easier to have a tangible thing to target.]

Is it?

No, of course not!

[Alistair is quick to agree that Wonderland isn't all bad. He doesn't want Mystique feeling like there's nothing good here and he truly doesn't hate it himself.]

Or I don't think so.

[Putting his glass down he smiles at her encouragingly.]

I haven't found it bad being here - a little dull maybe but not bad. And so long as it's true that if we get home nothing there will have changed from when we left then it's fine.

[He could almost view it as a holiday if he were absolutely certain that the Blight really would wait for him to get back. A holiday he has no control over the length of and didn't choose to come on but still a holiday. Not his choice but not terrible either. As with her and her brother though, it's that hint of uncertainty that's the problem.]

[When she'd first gotten here, she'd been sure that people would be looking for her. When she'd found out that nobody even knew they were gone, really, it had been -- equal parts relief and concern. Nobody to miss meant nobody to rescue, so it made sense for this place to keep them all frozen in time.

She nods.]

I can't imagine it not being true. Otherwise, bringing people here would be too risky and complicated.

[She takes another sip of her drink. Okay, so maybe she's going for the 'drink a lot in a small period of time to actually get a buzz' strategy and it seems to be working. That's...good.]

And I'd hope people would've come looking for at least one of us, if we had appeared as missing.

[She pauses.]

I wonder what makes this place choose whether it pulls in almost a whole universe of people or just a single person, like me.

[Obviously it's because this universe hates her, and not because their numbers relied on an arbitrary measure of popularity on the internet.]

I guess I didn't think of it that way.

[In part because even if time was passing and people noticed him missing they wouldn't be scouring Ferelden for him. There were bigger things to worry about than one missing Warden, no matter who he was. And with two Wardens presumably remaining in Ferelden they still would have hope of stopping the Blight without him.]

You're right. There's enough of us here that there would be someone looking if we were all missed. And someone with powerful enough magic to find this place.

[Wherever it was. The Fade or somewhere else.]

Maybe it's something to do with magic? There's a few people here from my home and we have magic. But I've met people who don't think it's real or they say it isn't where they're from. I don't know how many of them there are but if it's... easier for whatever brings us here to go where there's already magic maybe?

[But really he's just guessing. It could be there's a reason for who turns up in Wonderland or it could be there's no reason and it's completely random. He certainly doesn't think much of his chances of figuring it out either way. ~~After all, he's never even heard of the internet.~~]

[She can't help the laugh at his statement. She doesn't think that he's wrong, necessarily, so hopefully he doesn't get immediately offended at the reaction -- she'd just never have thought to make that kind of a leap of faith.]

So that's one thing that's probably true. The most important one, really.

[She pauses, though, to try and explain her reaction to his statement about magic.]

I don't know if there's really magic in the world that I'm from, or just some sort of advanced science. I'm sure Charles would be able to talk your ear off about the two things being the same, anyway.

[There's a shrug.]

But for all I know, you're right. It'd make as much sense as everything else here, come to think of it. Maybe it gets 'more' from people who're from magical worlds. You're like an extra-tasty treat for it.

[Her lips twitch into a brief smirk. The alcohol is doing just enough to relax her that she isn't schooling her somewhat predatory nature as well as she probably should be.]

[People laughing when he talks is nothing new. It's what he strives for most times he opens his mouth and the rest of the time it happens whether or not he wants it to. So Alistair simply nods and smiles, glad to (mostly) accept that the Blight really will wait for him to get back.

As for whether or not there's magic where Mystique is from, all he can offer is-] Your abilities look like magic to me so maybe they are the same.

[Although he's had enough people tell him the magic talking box isn't really magic so maybe there is a difference.

Sipping at his drink again he chuckles.] Now you've got me worried I'm going to get turned into a snack when I'm not looking. Does it help if I say I taste awful? And I'm not magic?

[Would that discourage Wonderland from deciding to make a meal out of him as well as keeping him captive?]