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THE WEEK OF THE TRIFFIDS |

It's Jazz who notices that things aren't as they should be, a fact which he'd certainly try to parade around if he could speak. As it happens, he spots something amiss as Fortescue is on a morning walk into the city. Movement snakes at the corner of his green eyes, and he shifts on Fortescue's shoulders to watch it. She pays no mind, humming a bit of The Magic Flute; he watches birds in the same manner.

But she absolutely notices when a section of vine suddenly extends from a planter and wraps around her ankle, yanking her off of her feet. Jazz leaps to safety, snarling and hissing, keeping his distance as he was trained to do.

Fortescue, meanwhile, grits her teeth and taps into her pyromancy. Flames dance along her skin, avoiding her skin but not the vines that are trying to drag her bodily into the planter for... whatever the vines are attached to. She isn't too certain.

"Oh, just get off," she manages. The vines make a whining sound -- how on Earth or any other world do plants make sounds? -- and retreat, but not before a section of one burns off. Fortescue doesn't get up immediately, watching with narrowed eyes. "...just where did you..."

The thought is abandoned as two more sections of plant life suddenly lurch out, one around her right wrist and one around her other ankle. Fortescue's yanked a few more feet along before she huffs out an angry, "All right then," and ignites all of her body. This time, though it hurts the vines the same, the plant seems just as angry and sends out as many vines as she can burn. A deeper noise starts coming out of the planter, something bigger wriggling forward -- something which looks like a person-sized, yellow bulb.

THE THINGS FROM ANOTHER WORLD |

When she isn't being grabbed by enthusiastic greenery, and when other people aren't, Fortescue can be found in the library looking at cookbooks. She's curious about other things she could make which would be feasible for a beginning cook, and the library does have a good selection. Jazz lounges in the sun on the floor, often right in the way of other readers. Some of her experiments are done in the temple's kitchen as well as her own, and when they turn out well she sets them out in offering to those who still bunk down in the temple. She's experimenting with various pasta dishes, slowly amping up the difficulty.

She can also be found in the temple training rooms ever so often, dressed simply and taking out any excessive energy on a punching bag. Everything about her form and stance indicates a seasoned fighter. Jazz curls on the shoulders of a training dummy, and purrs smugly at anyone who approaches it and needs to use it.

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"Or if they can fit under it. But that bottlenecks them anyway." Neria gives a brief nod. "Let's." By now she has a few contingency plans in place for most of the strange things Teleios throws at them. While retreating indoors is a danger if whatever is attacking can follow, if there's a back door or window to escape out of, it's worth trying just to see if the enemy can follow or not.

She grins. "I like your thinking."

This isn't a convenient location for this plan of theirs, but there is a small shop nearby that doesn't seem to be remotely busy. Too early in the day, perhaps. It also appears empty -- perhaps its owner has left Teleios. Fortescue immediately starts in that direction, but she goes at a trot rather than a lunge just to see if that makes a difference as far as veins reaching out to her goes.

Judging from the ssss sounds behind her, she gathers they're having just as much luck tracking her movement as they were before.

"In here!"

Ten years as a Warden-Commander has definitely had its benefits, like becoming more battle-ready and working out tactics in her head. She gives Fortescue a short nod and follows, her short legs carrying her the same distance as the human with her longer ones, even though Neria is moving at a faster pace. And so she doesn't have to change course when Fortescue alerts her to the building she wants to get into, because she's not sprinting ahead of her.

"It unlocked?" she asks, hand gripping the dagger tight.

Doing a cursory glance and ensuring that vines aren't trying to flank the two of them -- perhaps she's giving the plant too much credit there, perhaps not -- Fortescue puts her hang on the knob. And, thankfully, it turns. Perhaps because the shops are in such flux, or perhaps because it's only been recently abandoned. Either way, she's grateful as she opens the door and stands to the side to let Neria enter.

She raises her arm and intensifies the blaze on it, just in case vines behind them try to get bold as they move.

"Seems to be!"

There are, oddly enough, perks to living in a place where people come and go fairly often. Though the perks, for some, don't outweigh the sorrow of a departed friend.

"Let's hope they're not too determined."

"Good!" Neria races in and gives the shop a quick look. If all the plants are coming alive, it would be stupid to run into a shop full of them. But this place looks fine, and defensible, which is important.

"I'll check for a back exit, just in case."

Fortescue nods, as she closes the door. "Good idea."

Only a second later, the door thumps on the other side as vines slam into it. A few, it feels like. She grits her teeth as she feels the pressure on the other side of the door growing, and glances back to see if Neria has made any progress on a back door.

"Any luck?"

Perhaps if I use magic to hold the door closed, the vines will lose interest, she thinks hopefully.

Neria jogs to the back, where there's a door leading to a short hallway. One door within leads to a break room, another the stock room, but the last leads outside and she's quick to close it again and run back, calling as she does.

"There's an exit!" She gets back into the front of the store and looks towards the door. "You think it will hold?"

"It seems solid."

But how solid? Perhaps not solid enough to deal with the weight that might be levied against it. How many vines does this plant have to spare on them? Just how angry is it? ...or hungry? Is it being territorial, or predatorial? She hasn't the faintest idea.

Fortescue stands back slightly, making the decision to use her magic. If it seems hopeless, perhaps the plant will give up and go after an easier target -- and then she can circle back and take it out. Or they can.

As she raises a hand, the shadows in the room all seem to leak toward her. Things become strangely brighter as she concentrates all of the shadows into a single pane, which she sets up against the door. She puts all of her mental -- and considerable -- weight into it.

"There, that should do it. I hope."

Neria has seen many kinds of magic put into practice, but never has she experienced the sight of shadows being drawn towards a mage to use as a physical object.

"Maker, that's incredible!" she exclaims, albeit softly. No need to remind the plant they're in here. "Does that type of spell have a name?"

If Fortescue hadn't been in Teleios for more than a year, now, she would have been quite confused by what Neria was referring to as a spell. But she's now familiar with many other kinds of magic, from other worlds, and can understand what's meant immediately as she adjusts her hands.

No one back home would be calling this incredible. They'd be backing away from her slowly, thanks to a heavy amount of superstition still ingrained in many -- most -- cultures. It's always nice to have her magic appreciated here in Teleios.

"Back on my world, most people label it voidcalling," Fortescue explains. If they're being polite (and correct). "Using Shadow for various things. In this case, it makes us a handy barrier." She raises a curious brow. "Do you have this where you're from?"

"No, nothing like that. We have a place called the Void, but we don't draw magical energy from it. We draw from the Fade." She takes a closer look at the barrier, though she makes no move to touch it.

"I'm not sure which branch of magic this would fall under either. Primal, maybe? That deals with elemental damage... though shadows aren't really an element."

From the way Neria speaks, it seems as though her world has a very organized way of looking at magic. And that interests Fortescue, as hers is the same way. Categories and terms shift, ever so often, but the way people view magic has been the same for hundreds of years. Longer, possibly.

"The Void, hm? We have Shadow," Fortescue says thoughtfully, keeping her barrier up and strong as vines try to pummel the door on the other side a bit more forcefully. "It's sort of... another dimension, where I draw my magic from. What's the Fade like?"

This is helpful, actually. She can focus on the conversation and not so much the growing pressure she's putting off with her magic.

"Just like that, really. Dimension means something like a parallel world, doesn't it? The Fade is separated from the real world by the Veil, and there are spirits and demons that live in the Fade. There is also power, and mages' bodies naturally draw that energy in. Inside us, we call that energy mana, and it's the fuel for using spells."

Talking with magic users from other worlds has interested Neria since her arrival. And though she's happy to talk about it, this discussion does seem strange to be having while plants are trying to attack them. She looks back to make sure they haven't discovered the back door, but it's still clear.

As the pressure of the vines grows stronger along the front door, it feels as though the plant's simply covering the front of the building and is starting to back off on its attack. Perhaps it's disgruntled that a potential meal got away. In any case, it will be cleared off soon enough.

Fortescue's expression begins to look slightly more strained as the pressure starts to fully settle against the door. But she doubts there will be too much more, unless something very interesting is going on behind it.

"Dimensions are..."

Confusing. Fortescue doesn't even know the specifics on Shadow, because Shadow is a taboo topic that Reputable Scientists don't study. Mostly, science doesn't even acknowledge that the elemental planes exist. And voidcalling is one of the specializations that you're Not Supposed to practice. Unless you're an ex-government agent, of course, and the government gave you training in how to use it.

"They're sort of like worlds that fit on top of the physical world," she explains, as best she can. "Some of them supposedly look identical, with a few visual details different. Shadow is eerie, but here in Teleios it has the same geographical layout."

She glances to Neria, smiling in a wry way. Having seemingly casual conversations in tense situations is nothing terribly new to her, and she looks the part.

"What rate does a person draw mana?"

Edited (werds) 2016-05-29 22:22 (UTC)

Neria nods along, because it's the same with the Fade. It is a physical place, but people aren't meant to go there. Who would, with it being filled with demons trying to escape? And yet it somehow rests on the real world, because -- as she's heard it-- once the Breach in the sky and its smaller rifts were created over southern Thedas, demons came out of the air, straight from the Fade. Lucky then, that Neria had been too far northwest at the time to see it.

"It's not too bad. As soon as you use it, it's coming back, like waves against the shore. But certain spells take certain amounts of mana, and you can feel your magical power is too weak to cast it until you have enough mana. It steadily climbs, and maybe takes ten seconds or so to fully come back. But ten seconds makes a lot of difference in the middle of a battle. There are enchanted belts and rings that can help speed up the process."

"Hm. So in that way, you could work magic all day, with it returning to you?"

That's an interesting idea. Magic that gradually comes back. Fortescue's never experienced that. She visibly grimaces as more weight settles against the door, and the wall groans, but things seem stable. For now.

"When my magic is gone, it's gone until I sleep. And if I overtax myself, I get the migraine of a century," she says, with a quiet laugh. The idea of magic belts and rings is also interesting. Most magic-infused clothing back home is just for show, and does something visually interesting. "...this plant really wanted to have a snack, didn't it."

"That's right. It would still get exhausting, having to move through the spells because they're more accurate if you move your staff a certain way, but it's doable. I used to fight my way through enemies for miles in the forest or underground, and I can tell you that my limbs were sore after that."

Neria doesn't envy Fortescue her troubles with overtaxing herself, or with using up all her magic. She glances at the door and nods.

"In the interest of preventing a migraine, why don't we see if we can sneak out the back and make for the Temple?"

"Mm," Fortescue agrees softly. Trying to get out of here seems like a good idea, now that the plant's rage -- was it rage? -- seems to have been sapped by their shelter. Slowly, the shadows begin to disperse from the door, back to where they came from. Fortescue sighs softly as the last of the shadows departs from her control, and the door groans again. But it holds.

She glances to the back door.

"If it spots us, somehow, I've got another trick up my sleeve." She smiles dryly as she begins to walk in that direction. "I'm Fortescue, by the way. And this is Jazz. Things were a bit too crazy to introduce ourselves before."

Jazz leaps up onto her shoulders, fur puffed up, green eyes wide. He's not much of a fan of overly animated plants, it seems.

"It's always good to have a backup plan," Neria says, moving along and giving the cat a once over.

"I'm Neria. And I hope your cat can't talk. I had a bad experience once with a cat who could talk."

"No, he's just a cat," she answers, smiling slightly at the idea of Jazz speaking. No doubt that would be a disaster. Of course, he's carrying more than a cat usually does. But he, himself, is simply well-trained.

Fortescue carefully glances from side to side as she opens the door to the outside, wanting to be certain that vines aren't waiting to try and ambush them. But it does seem to be clear.

"I've trained him quite a bit, that's all. What cat did you know that could talk?"

Neria keeps alert as they head outside, and the question has a frown coming to her lips.

"It wasn't really a cat. It was a desire demon who took the form of one to attach itself to a little girl. The demon tried to make a deal with me to allow it to stay in the real world, but I couldn't do that. You should never make deals with demons. So it possessed the girl, and I had to kill her in order to banish the demon back to the Fade." One of the times Neria's die hard practical nature had resulted in her being unable to save someone. Of course the child was doomed the moment she found the cat, but it's still a bitter reminder of the dangers of her world.

Fortescue frowns in sympathy. "That's unfortunate."

She knows that her world has an advantage over many worlds that have magic -- there are no demons. No malevolent entities of that kind, that she's aware of. There are the Guides, but the Guides are neutral. Even helpful, as it's Guides that bestow magic on elves and humans. They don't try to forge deals with mortals and they don't try to hurt them. There's only the exchange: some of your life force, which will regenerate, and in return, a life of guaranteed success.

Though what you'd be successful at, that's the unconscious gamble everyone takes. And then forgets. Guides are confusing things. They rarely stick around to fully explain themselves. Fortescue's guide, whom she'd named Phineas, is an exception. But he's not here in Teleios. It seems that this is a place the Guides can't get to.

"Jazz is no demon, unless you consider trying to steal food off of Teleios partygoers to be demonic," she jokes lightly, as they carefully move. "He also tries to do that whenever I visit the Temple kitchens..."

Jazz is a bottomless pit of a cat, for how sleek he's managed to stay. But he appears lofty and unconcerned on Fortescue's shoulder, as if he finds being a food thief to be a baseless accusation. Thanks to carrying her soul safely, he does understand more than the typical cat. But not too much more.

It's an old hurt from back during the Blight, when she and Alistair had enough on their plates without worrying about demons possessing children too. The worst part is, that wasn't the only child she had to kill due to demonic possession.

But she's turned over her choices in her head far too many times to sink down into it again now. She stays alert for vines, but still listens to Fortescue talk.

"Domesticated animals are always begging for something," she agrees. "I once had a war dog. And when he wanted belly rubs, you better have obliged or you were suddenly on the floor being licked half to death." Ah, mabari. The largest breed of dog and practically a comical sight to see beside a slight elf of only five feet.

"That must be a sight to see," she says, her face shifting into a slight grin as she looks around a corner. Clear. The Temple is only a few blocks away -- they can make it, she tells herself. The plant can be dealt with later, now that it's made a nest for itself.

"Mum didn't want us to have pets, and I've only had Jazz. So I've never had a dog. But they seem like nice animals to have around."

She does pay attention to the once had part of that sentence, and hopes she isn't traipsing into sensitive territory. But she's also rather distracted by their present course of action.

A few blocks is nothing. She's run for longer distances with more deadly things on her tail before. Just seeing the Temple releases some of tension she's carrying.

"They are. In my country, it's practically a crime to not love dogs. They're on our coat of arms and everything." She doesn't mind discussing dogs. She once had one because the dear passed away of old age. Much better than being struck down by darkspawn, bandits, or whatever else he and Neria had faced together.

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