nogoldenmirror | ic contact for acatalepsy

How much remains to be seen. [Read: none whatsoever, but she's in a polite mood.

Morrigan sighs, setting something down (mortar and pestle; she needs to get more sunflower seeds from the tray).]

Crow, cat, wolf, [Wait for it...] and a dragon.

Quite the resume.

[But really. He just.] A dragon though, really?

[They had a bad time with a dragon not too long ago. Dragons are terrifying. And impressive. And ancient in a way that few things are. In his world.]

Full-sized?

I would switch to video and shift, but I am in the middle of something and would rather finish it first.

To answer your questions, however: Yes, a dragon. No. Roughly the same size as Shiro's beast form. 'Tis as though Astoria feared we wouldn't fit in her little guest rooms.

[And considering she's seen high dragons in the scaly flesh and now has seen how big the Black Lion is... Yeah, understandable.]

Well that's fair. Perhaps some other time you can demonstrate.

[But all right. Miniature dragon. But still sizable.

Barabas can't hold back a laugh, short though the sound is.] Being concerned for the furniture is probably valid in some ways.

[She looks at the bed in her room and sighs in amusement. Yeah, definitely a valid concern, but still.]

Perhaps when I am done with this particular batch. It will take some time before 'tis ready for the next step.

[Curse not having the ability to speed this up with magiiiic. o9]

And I am fairly certain the beds at the very least would not handle the weight.

Batch?

[Well now he's just being nosy. But he's okay with that, can acknowledge it in himself.

A laugh now and he glances at his own room and its furniture. Nope. Not made for dragons.]

Never mind the plumbing.

[Morrigan sighs, and switches the feed to video. Her hair is still tied up a little more messily than it usually is, and there are herbs of all sorts hanging from a bit of string on the wall behind her. she turns around, and shows off the table- covered in alchemical tools, sunflower seeds in various forms of either ground paste, dried, or soaked. there are also small bottles of recently extracted floral oils in the back...]

The basics in the baths will only do so much for our hair, after all.

[Bloody salt water.]

The basics in the baths are intensely lacking in general.

[His kingdom for a decent hair product, honestly. In his natural habitat, he spikes his hair up. There is style. Now it does mostly what it wants to, sadly.]

But if you're brewing something, I wish you luck. You've certainly got more hair to worry about than I do.

Indeed.

[Tell her sometime, Barabas. You know you'll want to. (How do you think Alistair gets his hair that way? Sleep? Pah!)]

I don't need luck. [She smiles a bit.] I was raised in a swamp. Though the sentiment is appreciated.

[She got this, shapeshifter bro. Sure enough, the next day there will be a bottle by his door labeled as such along with a note with the words "Seeing is believing. -M"]

[If only he knew!!

But that response has him grinning. Even if it can't be seen, it's audible in his voice.]

Skill does trump luck.

[Also. You know. Casually,] ...a swamp?

[Perhaps one day, he shall.

She notes the grin in his voice and a wild light dances in her eyes. ...it's one of the few times she's been vaguely praised that didn't involve murder and she appreciates it regardless.

And, given there is no need for the visual, she switches back to voice to match. Morrigan's getting slightly better at this technology thing. ...Slightly.]

In most cases, though having luck seldom counts for naught.

[Honestly, the amount of times her boyfriend would have died if he didn't have both... tsk tsk.]

Why, yes. [She doesn't even pause.] Where do you think someone dressed like I do would live? A city? One would stick out like a giant among dwarves. Not to mention the hazard to my health.

[If only she knew what the future holds...]

You know, that is a point.

[Really. He has seen luck play both ways -- good and bad.

But. Huh. Sorry, Morrigan. He's considering it and laughing a bit. Giant among dwarves, huh? All right yes that would be a contrast.]

Honestly, your fashion sense would fit in just fine with certain populations in the city I call home. If you add an appropriate soundtrack.

I tend to have a few.

[More than a few. Barbs, at least. Though her eyebrow raises unseen at the laugh.]

Perhaps, but in my country of origin there are seldom any who do not wear the standard tunic, long skirt, and shoes... unless they add a leather corset or are affiliated with nobility or the Chantry.

Aah. Well yes, very different. I imagine most of the tunic-and-skirt world would be scandalized by a good deal of the fashion from mine.

[Modern teenagers would scandalize many of the old sword and sorcery worlds. Actually he thinks it'd be a great deal of fun to witness, but that tells you a lot about how terrible his sense of humor is.]

One would assume nearly as much as one walking into a meeting with nobility dressed in the wrong colors for the season.

[She'd pay to see it. No, really. She would. It'd be hilarious.]

No, that's terribly serious. White-after-Labor Day serious.

[But he can't even keep a straight face about it, can't quite keep the serious tone in his voice, no matter how he tries.]

In any case, I am... very pleased to know that you've made it back with your self and sense of humor intact.

..Labor Day?

[She just can't help asking. (They both tried.)]

As am I to see that some of yours has remained as well. Though mine has always been on the more macabre side...

[All the times she tried making a few jokes among her fellow companions for them to fall flat. Sigh.]

Holiday in my country, right at the beginning of autumn.

[He cracks another smile.]

Nothing wrong with a bit of dark humor. It's something of an art form really.

[HE gets it, Morrigan. He really does.]

Indeed. One would think a few would get it, what with the Dismemberment Tuesday jokes.

[And she's quite serious about that one.]

Hm, that would be about the time of All Soul's Day, if my observations of village customs is correct.

[What's celebrating holidays. She just doesn't know.]

Tuesdays are always rough.

[Barabas agrees solemnly.]

That sounds right. I think we may even have one of those ourselves. Or some church or another does. [He waves a hand.] Church isn't exactly my thing.

[At all.]

They are indeed. Though not quite nearly as terrible as Mondays.

[A solemn nod, before she's fighting off the kind of smirk that shows a bit of teeth.]

What a coincidence. 'Tis not mine, either.

[Barabas. She gave two templars apoplexy just by walking into the door of one. It was great.]

Nowhere near.

[His grin can't quite be hidden. Oh well.]

I'd never have guessed.

[Now he's just teasing. ...though yeah honestly he'd have loved to see that.]

[They both made valiant attempts.]

'Tis not as though I didn't make it obvious.

[Two can play the teasing game. Maybe if there's another sequence of dreamscape shenanigans.]

No, not remotely obvious. You radiate devout and churchgoing.

[A laugh and he shakes his head.]

I can't even explain how well you would fit in with the clan I grew up in.

[He's comparing her to a bouda which is a compliment, at least for him. ...though he also thinks that Morrigan would give Andrea a heart attack so.]

Were Alistair or Leliana here, I believe they'd suffer from apoplexy at the thought.

[She cackles at the thought. Ah, they'd have it coming honestly. Though that comment earns a raised eyebrow.]

Oh? [...Considering that is the first or second time anyone has said she'd fit in anywhere, she'll take it as the compliment it is meant as.] Dare I ask?

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