"Oh," Aleanna says, frowning in confusion. So this place is...not in Thedas, then? Or so she would assume, given her companion's reaction. Aleanna, without thinking, reaches for her staff, just in case. One never knew where or when one might encounter giant spiders, after all, and from what she can tell of this place, it seems rather...vacant. A perfect space for any number of vicious creatures, but, knowing her luck, they'll likely, sooner or later, run into a nest of poison spiders. Either way, Aleanna would rather be prepared than not.
"Litchfield?" She tilts her head, considering. It sounds like...a Circle, if she's being honest. But this woman carries no staff with her; is she even a mage?
"I'm sorry," she says, shaking her head. "I've never heard of a Litchfield. I was at the Circle at Ostwick before...well, before a lot of things, and certainly before this, whatever this is." She gestures with the hand that isn't holding her staff, indicating the strange palace they both seem to have wandered into.
"I don't suppose you know where this is, by any chance?"
"Your guess is as good as mine," Alex says, pushing her glasses up onto her head so that she can scrub her hands over her face. The feeling of skin on skin assures her that she's not sleeping, hallucinating or coming down from anything, but it's hardly reassuring.
She might not want to be in Litchfield but she wants to at least know where she is. "Although I haven't really had much time to consider the possibilities. Is it too much of a cliché if I say maybe... Emerald City?"
It's meant to be a joke but Alex already gets the impression it's going to fly straight over the woman's head. Just like the staff had apparently flown over Alex's – she's only just realizing its presence now. While she still doesn't get the impression that she's facing a threat, she takes a subtle step backward. "What are you carrying that around for?"
The woman wears spectacles, which is also a novel sight for Aleanna. Not many people wear them, back home; those that do typically are of the wealthy sort, which doesn't seem to be the case with this stranger, if Aleanna is of any judge.
"I know of the Emerald Graves," she says, tilting her head curiously. "I've never heard of any Emerald City there, though." It sounds as pretty as the Dales, truthfully. But she wonders what secrets a city within the Emerald Graves might hold.
She sees the woman take a step backwards; once, it might have bothered her. Now, she's far too used to the sight, having years of experience with people backing away from her at any sign of magic.
"This is my staff," she explains, calmly and quietly. Her time in the Inquisition (and as the Inquisitor) has helped to cultivate a quiet sort of bravery in her; she can project confidence she doesn't quite feel more often than she used. "I am a mage. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you. I just thought...my magic might be helpful, here."
Alex isn't the type to believe in magic, a fact that could be ascribed to her mostly secular upbringing or maybe that she's spent the last few years of her life in prison witnessing the opposite of the miraculous. This whole bizarre situation forces her to suspend her disbelief long enough to ask to know more, though.
"A mage," she echoes. It's a term that she's familiar with through fiction but hardly comes across in day-to-day life... not that she comes across any of this around the grounds of camp. "Okay. That's... kind of a lot to process." All of this is. She's either losing her mind or standing in front of someone who can do literal magic. "Can I ask what type of magic?"
Gratefully, it comes out more graceful than Alex's actual first thought: Are you a good witch or a bad witch?
"It can be," Aleanna acquiesces, nodding. She knows people have all sorts of complicated and conflicted emotions when it comes to mages. And this is on top of the fact that the pair of them have seemingly stumbled into some kind of strange, gaudy palace.
"You can," she nods again, managing a small smile. "I specialize in storm magic, myself, and I've just gained a specialization in rift magic." To demonstrate, she holds out her hand that isn't wrapped around the grip of the staff. She makes lightning dance between her fingers.
"I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that you aren't a mage yourself?" She asks a moment later.
"Jesus." It takes Alex a moment or two to recover from the trick, her mind dizzy with no idea on how to respond. She has no clue how to deal with any of this. Still, somehow, she finally manages her own smile which quickly evolves into a laugh at the question she's being asked. Nothing about Alex Vause is magical, unless her tendency towards really bad luck counts.
"God, no," she shakes her head. "Magic isn't really a thing where I'm from."
She'll take that as a no, even before the other woman responds as such. She appreciates the gentleness of her reaction, though; the laugh puts her at ease, and she smiles in turn. It's nice not to be judged instantly for her abilities.
"Really? I can't imagine a life without magic," she admits, shaking her head. "It's a big part of where I've come from, much as others might wish it were otherwise."
"Shall we find explore and try to see where it is we've wound up?" She suggests, gesturing to the glittering splendor around them. For all that it does shine, she can't help but feel that such ornate decor is merely hiding something much more sinister.
She pauses for a moment. "What's it like, where you come from?"
Alex can't imagine a person that would wish miracles and magic away, at least not like those she's just seen. Given how much her fellow inmates had fawned over Suzanne's story in all its fantastical glory, she'd argue that most women in Litchfield would want powers.
"It's not like I have anywhere else to go," Alex says by way of response and nods, happy to let the other woman take the lead. If they stumble across something they shouldn't she figures that she'll be able to put up more of a defense than her.
"It's... prison. Lots of gates and guards, bad food and everyone's dressed like this." She tugs on her shirt pointedly, it's not a color that flatters anyone. "I wouldn't recommend it."
"We had the Templars watching and guarding us, at the Circle," Aleanna says, beginning to walk towards the set of stairs she'd caught a glimpse of earlier. She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "But at least I can say that the food wasn't terrible."
She can't really compare her experiences to a woman she's only just met. But she can't help but empathize with her, given how much the description of her prison reminds her all too well of the Circles.
"Kind of strange, isn't it?" She observes, glancing all around them, at everything that glitters and glows in the shadows. "That someone would just abandon all this luxury."
"It doesn't bode well with me," Alex frowns. None of this bodes well with her, although she finds herself begrudgingly grateful for the company. As much as she likes to believe she's better off solo, she's always been more capable of working through crises with someone at her side.
"Do you think there's a window? Maybe we can figure out where we are from that?" It doesn't make sense that there wouldn't be a window in a hotel (it's not a prison, after all), but none of this makes much sense at all. If she tries to look for logic when she's just seen magic, she'll go more insane than she already has. "Not that I'm in any great rush to get back to where I was..."
"No, it doesn't sit well with me either," Aleanna agrees quietly. She thinks of the abandoned mansions she's explored in the Emerald Graves, seemingly empty at first glance. Until all of the demons came out, of course, like spiders emerging from the darkest crevices of a cave. She gets the same sense of foreboding here as they walk along.
"It can't hurt to look," she says, turning her gaze towards the walls to look for any kind of window. A glimmer of something shiny catches her eye a moment later; she turns back and nods at the stranger.
"Looks like there's at least something shiny in this direction."
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no subject
"Litchfield?" She tilts her head, considering. It sounds like...a Circle, if she's being honest. But this woman carries no staff with her; is she even a mage?
"I'm sorry," she says, shaking her head. "I've never heard of a Litchfield. I was at the Circle at Ostwick before...well, before a lot of things, and certainly before this, whatever this is." She gestures with the hand that isn't holding her staff, indicating the strange palace they both seem to have wandered into.
"I don't suppose you know where this is, by any chance?"
no subject
She might not want to be in Litchfield but she wants to at least know where she is. "Although I haven't really had much time to consider the possibilities. Is it too much of a cliché if I say maybe... Emerald City?"
It's meant to be a joke but Alex already gets the impression it's going to fly straight over the woman's head. Just like the staff had apparently flown over Alex's – she's only just realizing its presence now. While she still doesn't get the impression that she's facing a threat, she takes a subtle step backward. "What are you carrying that around for?"
no subject
"I know of the Emerald Graves," she says, tilting her head curiously. "I've never heard of any Emerald City there, though." It sounds as pretty as the Dales, truthfully. But she wonders what secrets a city within the Emerald Graves might hold.
She sees the woman take a step backwards; once, it might have bothered her. Now, she's far too used to the sight, having years of experience with people backing away from her at any sign of magic.
"This is my staff," she explains, calmly and quietly. Her time in the Inquisition (and as the Inquisitor) has helped to cultivate a quiet sort of bravery in her; she can project confidence she doesn't quite feel more often than she used. "I am a mage. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you. I just thought...my magic might be helpful, here."
no subject
"A mage," she echoes. It's a term that she's familiar with through fiction but hardly comes across in day-to-day life... not that she comes across any of this around the grounds of camp. "Okay. That's... kind of a lot to process." All of this is. She's either losing her mind or standing in front of someone who can do literal magic. "Can I ask what type of magic?"
Gratefully, it comes out more graceful than Alex's actual first thought: Are you a good witch or a bad witch?
no subject
"You can," she nods again, managing a small smile. "I specialize in storm magic, myself, and I've just gained a specialization in rift magic." To demonstrate, she holds out her hand that isn't wrapped around the grip of the staff. She makes lightning dance between her fingers.
"I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that you aren't a mage yourself?" She asks a moment later.
no subject
"God, no," she shakes her head. "Magic isn't really a thing where I'm from."
no subject
"Really? I can't imagine a life without magic," she admits, shaking her head. "It's a big part of where I've come from, much as others might wish it were otherwise."
"Shall we find explore and try to see where it is we've wound up?" She suggests, gesturing to the glittering splendor around them. For all that it does shine, she can't help but feel that such ornate decor is merely hiding something much more sinister.
She pauses for a moment. "What's it like, where you come from?"
no subject
"It's not like I have anywhere else to go," Alex says by way of response and nods, happy to let the other woman take the lead. If they stumble across something they shouldn't she figures that she'll be able to put up more of a defense than her.
"It's... prison. Lots of gates and guards, bad food and everyone's dressed like this." She tugs on her shirt pointedly, it's not a color that flatters anyone. "I wouldn't recommend it."
no subject
She can't really compare her experiences to a woman she's only just met. But she can't help but empathize with her, given how much the description of her prison reminds her all too well of the Circles.
"Kind of strange, isn't it?" She observes, glancing all around them, at everything that glitters and glows in the shadows. "That someone would just abandon all this luxury."
no subject
"Do you think there's a window? Maybe we can figure out where we are from that?" It doesn't make sense that there wouldn't be a window in a hotel (it's not a prison, after all), but none of this makes much sense at all. If she tries to look for logic when she's just seen magic, she'll go more insane than she already has. "Not that I'm in any great rush to get back to where I was..."
no subject
"It can't hurt to look," she says, turning her gaze towards the walls to look for any kind of window. A glimmer of something shiny catches her eye a moment later; she turns back and nods at the stranger.
"Looks like there's at least something shiny in this direction."