Setting the Stage

[evantuality]

His time with the Audentes had changed the course of Evan's life. He imagined he was amongst a remarkable majority of ex-recruits in that regard, and in retrospect it was unsurprising, but at first returning home had been a shocking readjustment. He had withdrawn from the semester that he had been halfway through, not because he could not recall the information his classes had been imparting -- that was a state that could be fixed, after all -- but because the very structure of school had thrown him. He had left campus, he had gone home and told his parents what had happened: they had been furious and fascinated and shocked and relieved in turn, and Evan could sympathize. In the end he'd spend six months at home.

It had been a boon. Dropping out had meant reapplying, and reapplying had made Evan shrug and send applications to other universities, pie-in-the-sky places he hadn't considered before. It'd been his time with ALASTAIR that he ultimately credited, therefore, his acceptance to one of the schools tied for the top of the pile in comp sci undergraduate programs.

From there on out, it'd been much harder to miss his time away from home, as the program was ferociously exacting, even for his standards. Ultimately the Audentes never faded from his mind entirely, but they settled squarely into past, not present, and his pangs for his friends there faded as he slowly accepted the unlikelihood of ever seeing any of them again.

By the beginning of his second year at the new university, he had settled back into the realities of life on Earth entirely. Student housing, cafeterias, lectures, labs and all extra hours spent studying were routines that became easy once more (although perhaps he got a little more involved in extracurriculars than he otherwise would have). The big brick student residence halls, with the towers on the corners, had been built a hundred years ago and renovated in the eighties. It had been cutting-edge then, with whiteboards and two fireplaces in each common area, and brown carpet all in the hallways. The radiators worked but they made noise in the winter, the beds were narrow, the desks in the bedrooms tall and solid and terribly dated. It became home to Evan with ease, even having to put up with a roommate again. Campus was expansive and riddled with enough to keep him occupied all hours of the day, even the rare few he didn't spend on schoolwork.

Life carried on.

Comments

this tag is subtitled "Meallan gatecrashes a cafeteria"

[strikingtwice]

Life carried on.

It had been about two months since Evan had disappeared (returned home, Meallan had been assured, although a part of him doubted exactly how true that was) and life carried on with ALASTAIR as it always had, brief breaks on Oska before they were sent out for another mission to do what they could to aid other worlds once more. But even with the work to help keep his mind busy, Meallan still found himself turning to look for a familiar, red-haired form that was no longer there, coming up with questions or topics to talk about with someone he'd likely never speak to again. His heart ached from the loss, felt as keenly as the loss of his brother, his clan, his friends in the Inquisition before, and he found himself wondering at times if it ever became any easier to bear or not.

He wondered as well what answer he'd like better, and found he couldn't decide, preferring instead to try to drive the melancholy away with a sharp focus on their work and pushing himself to do more and help others in ways he felt he should have come up with sooner. Laedo helped him in fashioning a new arm to replace the one lost to the Anchor, a limb that moved as sure and easy as if he'd been born with it, though it was a delicate, pale shade of gold with a thread of green across the palm, something Meallan had requested to remember all that had been lost in the past. It helped motivate him to focus on learning healing himself as well, and he found a strange peace in burying himself in helping others as much as he could, working until he was too exhausted to dwell on what he missed or to dream of a nervous smile that he'd never see again.

Or at least, he'd never have expected to see again. Not until the fateful day when ALASTAIR finally said that they thought he might have a path home, a way to return to Thedas and hopefully focus on the concerns of his own world, and Meallan had willingly accepted and stepped through their portal...

...only to find himself falling far enough for his stomach to flipflop in fear before he hit the ground hard enough that he lay there stunned for a moment or so, taking in the smell of autumn in the air, a tang of cold and smell of wood smoke and leaves that was familiar and yet... not.

He rose then, looking around at strange buildings that seemed too large and different for Thedas and he felt a twist of despair as he realised that wherever he was, it wasn't Thedas. ALASTAIR hadn't gotten him home after all, though he wasn't certain if it was on purpose or not.

Hopefully if it was a mistake or a test they'd get in contact with him or bring him back shortly, but in the meantime... Meallan imagined it might be a good idea to find out more about where he was, just in case it was a final task before he could truly leave. The building before him seemed as good a starting point as any, and he made his way towards it, ignoring the stares he got from humans as he got closer. The looks weren't unusual really; even in Thedas a Dalish elf drew murmurs and fearful looks among many human settlements, and he was used to standing out in other worlds as well. So instead of letting them worry him, he entered the main building and looked around for someone who might seem useful to ask questions of.

The place he'd entered was a dining area of some kind, which was good since there were enough people there that he'd have plenty of choices, but it was in looking around that Meallan spotted one face in particular that stood out immediately, and he barely had time to realise who it was before he was making his way over to the table, hardly noticing the whispers and stares, and stopping next to the seated figure.

"...Evan?"

The most awkward welcome to college life

[evantuality]

Like many of the other Residences on and around campus, Evan's building had been something else before it had been a student residence: in this case, a hotel. The kitchens were extensive, and the cafeteria and dining hall were lovely, with wood fixtures and patterned tile floors and even chandeliers. It gave the impression of antique loveliness, of competence and elegance, even with the patina of student messiness that inevitably descended upon every school cafeteria ever. It was a point of endless consternation amongst the students who lived there, then, that the food was so bad.

Mealtimes were social business, as much because the tables were good for group study as because everyone basically wanted to pay as little attention to the food as possible while it was being consumed -- plus it never hurt to have other ears to bitch to who had to suffer the same fate of whatever was on the burners tonight. Therefore, supper found Evan with his roommate and a pair from one of his other classes, notes strewn between them, plates empty and to one side, conversation animated. Evan himself was listening more than he was speaking, even his tenure amongst the Audentes not enough to turn him into a true extravert, but he listened with bright-eyed interest and interjected from time to time.

The rich tenor voice, when it interrupts, is familiar. It's familiar in a way that sends electricity right down Evan's spine, familiar in a way that feels all at once very wrong and ignites a warm glow of shocked pleasure up the back of his neck. That's all in an instant, and he looks as his friends do, catching a look of surprised fascination on his roommate John's face as he turns.

There is no mistaking the person standing in front of him, in full foreign gear, his facial tattoo somehow just as conspicuous as his unmistakable ears.

Evan's brain skips a beat, like a record jostled. He hears John exclaim gleefully, "how did you do those?" before he manages to gather himself.

Ignoring his roommate's assumption of movie magic, Evan gapes. "Mel?" In a moment he's standing, facing the elf, staring and staring and examining, unable to believe his eyes. "You're... how?"

[strikingtwice]

"Evan!" He hadn't been certain what he was seeing until the redhead stood and he saw recognition and warmth in those eyes, and then all at once Meallan was dragging the slighter man close and wrapping both arms around him in a warm, fierce hug, as though expecting any moment he'd wake and find it a dream slipping away from him.

"Creators, it's good to see you, lethallin! I thought I wouldn't..." He pauses, swallowing feelings that threaten to rise up too fast, and then the reality of what this might mean sinks in as he pulls back.

"But... you haven't come back, have you?" Meallan says slowly, and finally takes a look around the hall at the number of faces watching them, some looking curious, amused, and even judgemental. His gaze takes in the few at the table Evan had been sitting at, the open interest there, and he meets Evan's eyes again.

"That must mean..." His gaze drops again and Meallan belatedly realises that he's still holding Evan's hand, still wanting that contact that he's been sorely missing and the tether that he's afraid to let go of now. "I am further from home than I thought I was, aren't I?"

[evantuality]

Concern mounts in Evan rapidly: concern for this friend out of the woodworks, worry for the stares they're getting, good lord worry about those ears... With his chest feeling increasingly tight he shrugs and grimaces in what he hopes is a casual enough manner for his eagle-eyed lunchmates. "I think so, I'm afraid."

"Lethalin?" one of Evan's lunchmates asks, sounding puzzled and amused. "Creators?"

John breaks in again, grinning more ridiculously. "No, wait, let me guess. In town for a Ren Faire? What is that, like, Welsh?"

Evan turns to wrinkle his nose at his friends, dropping Mel's hand as he scrambles for how to cover this up. "Oh, don't be an ass. Look, Mel--" He turns back to the elf then, a flash of real worry on his face as he desperately hopes Mel will catch on and play it cool, "we should go sort that out. Can I show you around?" Thinking of something he twists to his table again, rapidly offering, "Nahid, keep my notes for now, I'll grab them tomorrow when you're done with them. Right? Right."

Then he's ushering Mel away from the table, swinging his bookbag over his shoulder and picking up his plate to go deposit with the dirties. This feels like an explosive in his hands and he wants to get Mel out of sight and defuse it as fast as he can.

[strikingtwice]

He's about to ask what the people with Evan are talking about and how the other man can be so casual about Meallan being here, but then Evan's pulling him away from everyone like they're at risk of being spotted and suddenly he recalls what Evan had told him so long ago about magical creatures needing to pass as human. That it might be dangerous not to.

So he lets himself be led, glancing around and noticing properly now the number of stares they get, how he can't see anyone at all who isn't human. He'd gotten used to seeing few elves with ALASTAIR, as much as it had pained him at times, but there'd still been other races around. Here there was no one who didn't look utterly human, not even humanoids like Laedo's shining, familiar form. It's disconcerting and he speeds up a little, following Evan's direction and hoping the younger man has a goal in mind of somewhere safer to talk.

But even as they walk, he can't help dropping his voice to a low murmur, asking the question he's fairly certain he knows the answer to already.

"Evan, is this your world? Am I going to have to... hide?"

[evantuality]

"It is," he confirms, relief spiking to mitigate a little of the alarm when he realizes that Mel is catching on. "Yeah, it is."

He waffles for a moment, coming to a pause as they connect to a main hallway of the dorm, out from one of the cafeteria exits. Ultimately he decides on the stairs and he beckons Mel to follow him down the less populated arm of the residence hall, avoiding entirely the busy front doors. "This way. Um, we're going up to my room here, we should have it to ourselves for a little while yet."

He pushes the heavy stair door open and ushers Mel through, trotting along beside him on the stairs. They're almost always eschewed for the elevators, and he's hoping that luck holds. "It's -- how are you here?" Despite the obvious tension in his voice, the way he looks at Mel is still a pleased sort of shock.

[strikingtwice]

He lets Evan lead them, trusting he knows the ins and outs of this place far better than Meallan himself does, and he can't help but notice after a moment that Evan seems to be choosing paths that mean they're away from others, avoiding further attention as they make their way to the younger man's room. It seems further confirmation in his mind of what he'd guessed already, that if this was Evan's world, then he'll stick out like... well, like a Dalish elf trying to hide in a human village would in Thedas, although here the difference was that they wouldn't even know well enough what a Dalish elf was.

At least the stairwell is empty so far, though he keeps an ear out for any sounds the might suggest otherwise.

"I don't know," he says grimly, taking the stairs with quick, flowing strides. "I didn't mean to come here, I was meant to return to Thedas instead. I need to return to Thedas."

Realising belatedly how that might sound, Meallan turns to flash Evan a quick, affectionate smile. "Not that I mind seeing you again, lethallin, but I wish it had been under different circumstances."

[evantuality]

Mel moves with more grace than any of his university colleages, Evan realizes, a little awed by the contrast. Hell, so many people at ALASTAIR had moved with the grace of those comfortable with their bodies. He's tried hard to do keep up the training Haise had begun him on, wanting to do honor to the memory of his time with the team, but oh, he's fallen off the horse the past year hasn't he?

But those are an under-murmur of thoughts and he stares at Mel as he can spare his gaze between watching the stairs and navigating the stairwell switch-backs. Belatedly he flashes the elf a grin, volleying back that smile, and he even manages to keep much of his distraction from it. "I can't say I'm unhappy to see you again, either. I really thought I'd never get the chance..."

He hears the door swing open on the landing above them and the patter of footfalls down the stairs, and he jogs ahead of Mel, putting himself between the elf and the girl about to pass them. It's mostly a successful move, keeping Mel from getting an odd look this time. Evan keeps his tongue still until the other student has passed.

"Although I could have hoped for easier circumstances." There's apology in his voice, and tight worry.

[strikingtwice]

"It's better than being in a world that I don't recognise on my own at least," Meallan points out, trying to find the positive in the situation still. It's far easier now at least, with Evan there with him. His heart feels light enough now that he almost feels like a dragon could show up and they'd still find a way to manage the problem together.

Although considering how many people seem to be in this place, perhaps it's a good thing that dragons aren't about to show up out of nowhere.

"What is this place anyway?" he asks, keeping his voice low as he follows Evan. "There are so many people here, almost as many as Skyhold. Are you in the military of your country?"

[evantuality]

That at least makes Evan smile as they trot their way up the stairs. "No, not military. These are dormitories, student residences. I live here, at least during the school year."

They make it to the landing of the fourth floor, and Evan goes ahead to open the door, let Mel through first and then trot to walk beside him. "I'm taking you up to my room. I share it with John -- he's one of the guys you saw downstairs at the table, but he has class after lunch, we at least have a couple of hours to... to sort out what our next move is."

He's so in problem-solving mode that he hasn't let himself really enjoy Mel's company yet, and that tension really doesn't disperse till they near his door. It's the second on the left from the stairwell, and he pulls out his key to unlock it and swing the heavy thing open, holding it again for his very unexpected guest.

When it swings closed behind them, Evan's shoulder's slump in visible relief. He lets out a huff of a breath and looks at Mel, really looks at him first time since that initial dumb stare. "You got your arm back," he exclaims, a little dumbfounded.

[strikingtwice]

"School..." He's heard of such places before and has an abstract sort of idea what the might be like, though born more of the learning style of the Dalish, children clustered around the adults teaching them of life in the clan. He knows it wouldn't be like that as much for Evan though, recalling how much books came into learning with humans usually, but even with what he did know, Meallan hadn't pictured a place like this.

It's so much bigger than he'd imagined, and as they slip into Evan's room, he gives the other man a curious look. "You share it with someone? There's so much space here, why would anyone need to share a room? Or..."

His question is prempted by Evan's and Meallan glances down at his left arm, the golden hand that he has now, and gives a small, wry smile. "Not exactly. Laedo made me a replacement that works rather well, but it's good to have both hands again."

Then he gives Evan a look. "You and John... are you involved?"

[evantuality]

He's in the midst of craning to peer at Mel's prosthetic, fascinated and delighted for Mel, when the elf asks that last question. He looks up in total startlement.

"No, not at all," he answers automatically. "Dorms just cram us in here like sardines because it's cheaper. I mean, there are single rooms, but they cost a ton more..." He trails off, and faintly flushes. The dorm room is dark except for light in the window, as he hasn't gone for the light switch yet, so he hopes that cover's enough to obscure the blush.

He had realized a great many things after leaving the Audentes, no small part of them revolving around Mel, around how much he had pined for the other man's company once he'd left, about what those feelings had meant. He had often wondered how much he'd imagined...

He turns to hit the light, adding thoughtfully, "no, I'm not involved with anyone here. Not... much chance for it, I guess. It's a pretty exacting course load."

[strikingtwice]

"You have to pay to be here?" That's something he hadn't considered, and that with Evan's insistence that he wasn't involved with anyone, let alone the man he shared a space with, makes him feel oddly better about everything, though Meallan tried to remind himself that it wasn't really any of his business. It shouldn't matter if Evan was or wasn't seeing anyone, not when this is his world and he would be within his right to continue his life and forget all about ALASTAIR and the Audentes.

Still, he can't shake the little flicker of happiness at the denial.

"What do you do here, if you don't mind my asking?" he says, curious now that the light is on and taking a look around the other man's space. "You're paying to live here and learn... magic?"

[evantuality]

The dorm room has the kind of half-neglected mess that every dorm room ever has sported. There are two beds, one on either side of the room, and two desks along the wall opposite to them. Two dressers have been pulled to the end of the room with the door out to the hallway, tall wooden things, and aside from the door they've entered through there's one more proper door just adjacent to them, and one sliding closet door on the far end of the room. A pair of windows takes up the far end of the room, curtains drawn back to let the October sunlight in, and trees decked out in bright red and orange and yellow leaves can be seen just below their vantage point. One of the beds is messier than the other, mostly unmade, and similarly one desk is cluttered. The other, while not spotless, looks rather tidier by comparison. With the mess the place seems a touch cramped, but it's not a tiny space, and there are nods to personalization in the posters on the walls (old movies, mostly) and the colors of the bedding.

Evan heads to this second desk, across from the bed closest to the window. "Hardly magic, except in the facetious sense," he lets Mel know, briefly wry. That's easier, cover up his brief embarrassment. He flicks open a very slim laptop, flashes a grin at Mel. "Computer sciences, double majoring in Networks and Security and Theoretical CS. I honestly know a lot of the networks stuff already, the double major sounds worse than it is..." He trails off; Mel's not one to banter about computers to, not without some serious primers. "It's pretty esoteric. Same general kind of thing as the jewellery network with the Audentes, although the purview is much wider. Computers form most of the information infrastructure on Earth."

He sighs, sits on his bed, looks to Mel to come join him. "And nobody. nobody here knows about magic." There's apology in his voice as he says that, and emphasis.

[strikingtwice]

Meallan trails after him, looking around everything with interest but keeping his hands to himself out of respect for Evan's space. The computer though, that gets an intensely curious look and he leans over the younger man's shoulder to peer at it, delicate length of his ear brushing Evan's.

"The jewellery was smaller and easier to use," he offers, since it's about all he can remark on in relation to the curious device before him.

The comment about magic though, that hits home, and he rises and follows Evan to the bed, sitting on it and curling close to the younger man. "Including your magic? I suppose at least hiding being a mage isn't new to me. Even if I don't like it much.

"But Evan, you haven't said what else I might have to hide here. When we first met, you said that humans don't know about other races, that they have to pretend to be human to get by. I don't know if you've noticed but I'm rather obviously not human."

[evantuality]

The brush of contact... that sends hairs up his back to standing, and not in a way that Evan objects to. He takes a deep breath as they settle into a sit facing one another.

There's a mercy in the way that Mel's serious question brings him back to the present, and Evan grimaces for the sake of the dry joke. "I don't know, you make a pretty convincing cosplayer," he shoots back, even knowing Mel won't understand the term yet. He shakes his head and goes on instead. "Yeah, I mean... you're right. We're going to have to disguise... well, what you are." He grimaces again, this time more anxiously. "I'm sorry. I know it sucks. This world isn't... I mean, we've got our issues."

He makes a fluttery gesture, apologetic and concerned. "But I mean, in a way we're lucky. I never told you what my parents do, did I?"

[strikingtwice]

"It's not your fault," Meallan says quietly, as much a reminder to himself as an acceptance of what Evan is saying. He hates the idea of hiding, it chafes against the pride that all of his people have for being elvhen, why they wear their vallaslin so openly and dare others to judge them for it.

But this isn't Thedas, and the stakes may be higher than simply making life difficult for him. In Thedas there might be the risk of some humans attacking and killing a lone Dalish elf for whatever reason, but they would be unlikely to then try to seek out and slay the clan entirely. Not without far more provocation than simply existing. Here getting discovered might lead to Evan being found out as well, perhaps even his family and others in turn, and whatever fate would befall them then.

Meallan could bear hiding who he was if it was to avoid bringing danger to his friend and the others of this world surely.

He exhales slowly and gives Evan a soft smile, doing his best to accept the other man's words. "No, you didn't. I assumed they both looked human?"

[evantuality]

Mel's discomfort is not lost on Evan, who's frankly been on alert for it. But he also recognizes the effort the elf is putting in to being okay with it, and Evan is not entirely the flighty thing he once was. He doesn't call Mel out on it.

"They do -- or, they can. Well, my father's just human, more or less, and my mother looks pretty flawlessly human most days... but that's not quite how I meant it." He grins, offering the first bit of good news he's been able to. "Aside from their day jobs, they're both involved in an organization that... that offers integration help for, well, nonhumans who want to integrate. I mean, things like passports, documents, and in some cases, sourcing charms to hide... unusual features." He glances down briefly, at his own hands, rather than risk accidentally looking at Mel's ears. He doesn't like the dissonance, calling anything about his friend unusual enough to hide. "It's what I do for my eye, the one that Laedo gave me, I mean."

He looks up again, catching Meallan's gaze, suspecting he'll want to take a look. Rather than the iridescent amber that Laedo had granted his replacement eye, both of Evan's eyes are back to being the warm brown he was born with. "With any luck, they'll be able to offer a solution."

[strikingtwice]

"Integration help?" Again, the wording bothers him a little although Meallan tries not to focus on it. It reminds him too much of the city elves and his people's past, but that's not Evan's fault either. The other man just wants to help and it's something that Meallan will have to... adapt to.

But he does lean closer to peer into Evan's eyes, both out of curiosity about how good the disguise really is and for his own reasons. He's missed Evan even if it hasn't been that long, and missed being close to him. Perhaps he's a touch clingy now in part because of missing him and because there are no other familiar faces here, but he enjoys the excuses for closeness.

"If it's not a real, permanent change I could manage with just looking human, I suppose," he agrees a little cautiously. "Is it something I could... take off sometimes?"

[evantuality]

Evan has fallen back out of the habit of touching people, especially pertinent now that he shares space with another student, so Mel's hunger for closeness goes unparsed for the time being. His question is more pertinent anyways, and Evan looks seriously at his friend. "Well, I mean, yes. Where's the good in a glamour if there isn't some control over when it's working? I can turn this off," he gestures up at his eye, and then grimaces, "although it's kind of unpleasant. I have to actually touch my eye... which," he adds, "I think is kind of a specific condition."

He humms, bobs his head. "We're going to have to come up with a cover story for you, too, but I mean... we can work on that. Do you mind if I take a minute and talk to my mom?" He's already pulling his phone out of his pocket. "She'll at least be able to let us know if they can find us something quick, or if... if we'll have to come up with some other solution." Although he doesn't really know what that other solution would be. Heading out and finding a hotel for a few days till a glamour comes in? Hiding Mel in his closet? Good lord.

[strikingtwice]

"To explain why you suddenly have a friend who looked like an elf when he first arrived?" It makes sense to him, though he wonders if some of what others had said at the sight of him would help there.

But they can talk about that in a moment, instead Meallan is watching with open curiosity as Evan pulls out a slim device from his pocket with the mention of speaking with his mother.

"Is that a type of... computer as well? Like the jewellery and the one over there?" He indicates the desk and the other one Evan had shown him. "Why do you need so many?"

[evantuality]

"Slightly different contextual uses," he offers, and then looks at the phone in his hand, mouth pulling wryly. It's one thing to grow up in the culture, another to have its curiosities called out by someone with fresh eyes. He shrugs, adds, "though honestly mostly convenience. There's a tradeoff with portability versus power..."

For a moment it dazzles him, the thought of exactly how much there is to explain to Mel about this time and place. He puts his phone down on his knee for a moment, looking round-eyed at the elf. "There's going to be... there's going to be a bit of a learning curve here. Lord, I'm glad you found me... how long have you been here, actually? How did you know to come to the cafeteria?"

[strikingtwice]

"All right..." Meallan says, more because he feels he should agree than any real understanding of what Evan is talking about. The shapes are different but he's not really certain how that matters; it hadn't with the jewellery after all.

Then Evan sets it down again and he frowns at the device in confusion and then glances back at the younger man as he realises why he's paused.

"I didn't? I just saw a lot of people and when I realised that there was food there as well, it seemed like a good place to get information. I didn't know where I was until I saw you there."

He gives a shrug and a small laugh. "I actually wondered if ALASTAIR had lied and said they were sending me back but I'd been put to another world for a mission instead."

[evantuality]

Evan looks surprised, and then shakes his head. "It can't be a coincidence that you got dropped near me," he insists, emphatic. "The odds are just... they're absurd. And this is nowhere near the rift that I stumbled through was, so it's not like they reused the wrong coordinates... but it doesn't make a hell of a lot of sense, does it? Why would they drop you on my world?"

There's something in that question that gives Evan a cold tickle in the back of his brain, makes him sit up a little straighter. ALASTAIR sends teams to worlds in danger. Maybe there's something wrong.

Icy fingers treading up his spine, he thins his lips and picks up his phone again, staring at it instead of Mel. "I'm going to call home. We can sort out the rest of it once we've dealt with the more immediate issue." He stands. "It'll be a couple minutes. Um, feel free to poke around," he offers, distracted enough not to think to point out what stuff's John's and what stuff's his.

He heads to the window, leans on the sill, tension in the lines of his body as he dials up Kay. It's not exactly privacy for the conversation, but it's the closest thing to.

[strikingtwice]

"I can think of a couple of reasons," Meallan admits slowly, and as he catches the look on Evan's face, he can guess at least one of them has occurred to the other man as well. It's likely the more concerning one to him, which is probably a good thing; Meallan doesn't see reason to drag out every possible reason just yet, so as Evan focuses on the phone he nods and stands as well, deciding to distract himself with investigating while Evan makes his call.

He can guess that the bed and desk likely belong to the other person staying there, and while he largely tries to keep his hands to himself, Meallan can't help but take a look at the posters on the walls and open the closet to poke his head inside, slowly moving his way to the other door that hadn't opened onto the hallway.

[evantuality]

The posters on the walls are cheesy things, in Evan's opinion; kitschy movie posters mostly from the nineties, a vanity of his roommate's more than his own. The single one above his own bed was brought from home: an old, tall poster showing the relative scale of Earth to the other planets in the solar system, with the massive sun peeking just at the bottom of the paper. The closet, when Mel peeks in, is something of a disaster: it's a long, deep thing and is mostly storage for boxes and stacks of stuff rather than clothes, as the two wardrobes cover most of the latter. Evan may be tidy, but in some cases out of sight is out of mind. Backpacks, a vacuum cleaner, linens, shoeboxes, oddly a life-sized cardboard cutout that faces the far wall.

Evan sees none of Mel's poking about. He keeps his voice low as he greets his mother, sounding the sheepish youngster again through the usual ritual dance of parental chiding and parental warmth both. It's when he takes a deep breath and goes, "look, I've had a friend show up, uh, kind of out of the blue..." that the conversation sounds as if it's getting serious.

"No, I mean -- someone who would've wanted to come through you and Dad, if he'd had the chance. No, not -- no... yeah, for a while... well, an elf." Evan sounds almost sheepish. He determinedly does not glance over his shoulder at Mel. "From the, uh. Yeah, from that. I know! No. Yeah, that's the... no, pretty big. Eyes, too. Um, a glamour? Something that can be taken on and off would be, well, if we can. ... Documents, sure as hell. No, we'll come up with something. Can Nakana fill in..?" A sigh from Evan. "If you have to, can we maybe plan a better time for it? Last time I think John... no, mom, it'd be nice to see you. Yeah. I mean, I wouldn't ask except -- no, of course. Um, love you too. I'll text you with it in a minute."

When he hangs up, he's chewing on his lower lip. Straightening, he turns, and if he seems anxious it's cut with a kind of purposefulness. "Well, mom seems optimistic." And then he grins, self-conscious and in this case amused by his own concern. "May I take a picture of you? I mean, to send to her. So they know what we need."

[strikingtwice]

The life-sized shape made of strange board is strange enough to warrant a look, and Meallan is in the process of trying to pull it free when Evan turns back to him and he freezes like he's been caught stealing sweet bread by the clan Keeper, and quickly lets it go and withdraws from being half in the wardrobe.

"Does she?" he asks, feeling a prickle of embarrassment across his cheeks. "I take it that's a good sign at least..."

The request for a picture is less strange after getting used to the jewellery they'd all used with ALASTAIR and Meallan nods, moving closer and dropping down on the second bed opposite Evan.

"All right. Do I need to do anything for it, or is this all right?"

[evantuality]

Evan looks surprised at the sight of Meallan trying for the cutout, and then is subject to a rush of embarrassment. He'd forgotten it was in there, the dratted thing. Mentally, he adds that to the growing piles of things that he's going to have to explain. The pile is getting daunting.

Shaking his head, he raises his phone, pulling up the camera app. "Nothing in particular," he reassures Mel... and then frowns at the screen, steps closer and to the left a bit, frames the thing, and taps his camera. The little shutter noise triggers and he looks critically at the result for a moment before pulling up messaging and sending it off to Kay. When that's done he tucks the device back into his pocket and sits again, looking a little wide-eyed across at his friend.

"That'll help," he tells Mel, "thanks."

Then he looks down, grins briefly. "It's hard to believe you're... here." He looks back up, his grin growing stronger. "How have you been? How is -- how is everyone, I guess? A lot's got to have changed since I left!"

[strikingtwice]

"A lot?" It seems a strange enough question that Meallan raises an eyebrow in confusion, trying to think exactly what had been happening when Evan left. He didn't recall it being that busy or anything strange happening, and he gave the other man a shrug, wondering if there'd been something he'd missed.

"Not really, we had another mission, but then when we got back to Oska, they offered some of us, including me, the chance to go home. That's all really." As he thought about it again, Meallan idly bounced on the bed and made a surprised sound before doing the same again.

"Creators, this is soft." With that he fell back onto the bed properly, stretching out on it with a quiet groan of pleasure.

[evantuality]

Confused in turn, Evan sits back and stares at Mel. There's a lot to unpack there, which is interrupted by the way Mel suddenly notices the mattress he's sitting on. He pulls his socked feet up onto his own bed and leans forward to peer at the elf, who seems to be so enjoying himself.

"Welcome to dorm living, I suppose," he offers. Were the mattresses at Oska worse? Two years out and he can't recall specifically, but they must have been. It's the less pressing question, though, and Evan has a growing suspicion. A little nervously, he laces his fingers in his lap, frowning earnestly across at the flopped elf. "Mel, how long has it been since I went home? I mean, from your perspective?"

[strikingtwice]

"What do you mean, from my perspective?" Meallan questions, turning his head to give Evan a funny look but not quite willing to get up from the bed just yet. It's something he feels a bit bad, aware it's not really Evan's bed, but it's comfortable and he stretches out catlike against it, content with really sinking into the softness.

"It's been about a month or so, I think? I haven't kept an exactly count... for a few reasons." The last part is a touch evasive, though he hopes Evan won't guess why and put it down to missions and time differences on different worlds.

Truthfully, a large part was also due to how Meallan had retreated a fair amount to begin with, not wanting to dwell on how long it had been since Evan had left and preferring to throw himself into anything he could as a distraction. It had worked, more or less, but he didn't want to dwell on that time much either.

[evantuality]

There's something charming about Mel curled up like a cat on the bed, and Evan has to briefly fight the distraction of the sight. There is, after all, rather a more pressing matter or two at hand. In fact when Mel sketches out his time frame, Evan's stomach sinks a little.

"A month." He looks the man over again, taking note of all of the details that are strangely the same, the absence of the subtle signs of time passing. Mel does look strangely exact, but he'd written that off as the vagaries of memory. His expression shades serious, almost grave.

"Mel," he starts, pulling in a breath, wondering if there's a delicate way to phrase this, and deciding there probably isn't, "I came home from Oska two years ago."

[strikingtwice]

"Hmm?" Meallan makes an effort to sit up and pay attention as Evan speaks, a lingering smile on his lips that slowly fades as Evan explains why he's troubled by what Meallan had said.

"Two years?" he echoes, staring at Evan uncertainly. There'd been changes to Evan's face yes, but nothing that had made him think it had been that long. His throats works a moment as he thinks about how much time that was, how much could happen, and finally he manages a small, uncertain laugh.

"No wonder you were so surprised to see me. You must have put all of ALASTAIR and the rest of us behind you."

[evantuality]

Evan looks down, his grin a sheepish, slightly sad little thing. "I mean, in that I went on with my studies, yeah," he admits to Mel. "But not... not that I've forgotten any of you, or what it was like."

Swinging his gaze back up and across to the elf, he's finding old feelings are pushing up from the depths, things that he had in truth tried to put behind him. There's a simmering fervency behind his sternum, and he leans forward with real earnestness. "Hell, Mel, I've missed it. It was -- I mean, it was crazy, it was a whirlwind, but -- there's nothing like that here. I miss being a part of a team."

He searches the elf's face, not sure what he's looking for, his urgency deflating a little bit. "I've missed getting to be honest with people." It had chafed badly to go back into the closet once he'd gotten home, having had a taste of what it was like to have a place where he could unabashedly be who he was.

[strikingtwice]

Meallan hesitates as Evan admits that he'd been trying to focus on his studies, wondering how much he'd changed simply by turning up here, and then the younger man admits as well that he'd missed being part of a team, of being honest about who and what he was and that's enough for him.

He rises from the bed immediately and crosses to Evan's dropping down by his side and pulling him into a fierce hug.

"I've missed you as well," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "Even though it wasn't as long for me, when you left... I knew I should be happy but all I could think was how much I missed you. In a way, I'm glad that I was sent here. It means I can see you again."

[evantuality]

The physical contact has once again come around to being strange to Evan, in its frequency and sincere quality. But this time, this time, he knows to lean into it, he remembers how much he'd missed the tactility and how surprised he'd been by the depth of that missing, when he'd been sent home. He twists to face into the hug and wraps his arms around Mel too, squeezing the other man tight, feeling lithe muscle and the deep warmth of another body, and feeling a rush of pleasure for it.

Mel's words infuse him with a similar warmth, a confusing and heady mix that he's not quite ready to immediately start dissecting. He gives the elf an extra squeeze for the admission.

And then a thought occurs to him, and the younger man laughs. "You must have been so pleased to get your arm back," he says, not letting go of his friend yet. "This is a solid fifty percent more hug than I remember."

[strikingtwice]

A snort of amusement escapes him and Meallan squeezes Evan tighter for a moment, a reassurance to the part of him that had been so afraid that he'd never get the chance to see the other man again. That he'd be alone again.

Then he finally lets go and sits back, his eyes a touch brighter with emotion, though his face is all smiles.

"And you're just as warm as I remember as well," he teases. "Surely you must be popular on winter nights."

Settling back down, Meallan curls companionably against Evan's side, apparently content to stay there for the time being. At least until something else catches his attention.

"So... what do we do now?" he says at last. "Are your parents coming here?"

[evantuality]

Evan wrinkles his nose in a grin and snorts for the sake of Mel's flirty little tease. As the elf settles in, though, he shrugs, watches with pleasure as Mel gets comfortable.

"They may, they may not. I think it depends on whatever solution they've come up with. I should get a text from my mom sometime," he says, instinctively checking his pocket for his phone. It's still there, hasn't buzzed yet. "They might just send us whatever glamour they come up, rather than deliver it in person.

"What," he asks the elf, grinning, "are you hoping to meet them?"

[strikingtwice]

"Aren't I allowed to?" he returns, meeting the grin with a challenging eyebrow of his own. "Maybe I'd like to meet the man who was very dedicated in wooing your mother."

He wriggles his eyebrows and grins widely, then bursts into laughter and drops back to sprawl out as much as he could on Evan's bed. "The look on your face..."

It reminds him a good deal of their first conversation and he hopes Evan still remembers it as well, even if it has been much longer for him. Maybe it's too much to think he would remember Meallan that well, but he clung to the thought anyway.

After a moment to let his amusement die down again, Meallan glances up at Evan curiously. "So... you study things here? And do you work as well?"

[evantuality]

It had been a long time since Evan had thought about that conversation, but Mel's delight draws it back out of the depths. Evan exclaims, mock-embarrassed, and then grins down at Mel as he flops. It shocks him, a little, how easy this is, how his bubbling fondness for his old ALASTAIR compatriot has washed back over him so easily that it feels like no time has passed since he last saw Mel at all.

He pulls his feet up onto the bed, scooting backwards to lean against the wall the bed butts up against. Crossing his arms over his knees to finish the companionable tableau, he warns Mel, "don't you go asking them awkward questions about their romantic life. I'll never live it down."

To the elf's actual question, though, he shakes his head. "During the school year I study full time. I'm lucky; my parents can help me finance school, though I do work internships during the summer breaks. They don't pay beans but it's more for the experience than the money."

[strikingtwice]

"That just sounds more tempting if you ask me," Meallan returns with a teasing grin. "Something they'll remember and remind you of, even after..."

He goes quiet, not liking the reminder that he'll have to leave as soon as he can manage. As much as he enjoys being with Evan, there's nothing to ensure that time isn't passing in Thedas now he's here, and the idea that he might not have a world to return to, or at least not one he knows, is a sudden, heavy weight on his chest.

He's quiet as Evan speaks, nodding but not listening as well as he might otherwise. It's not fair to Evan to tune out, but it's a sudden and sobering thought for Meallan to think that he doesn't know how time will work in Thedas compared to Evan's world as opposed to with the Audentes. There he could afford to indulge his own whims more, now he might not have that luxury.

It's not something he wants Evan to worry about considering he's back in his own world and life now, so Meallan smiles and sits back against the wall as well, putting a bit more distance between them.

"And here I come in and distract you from all of that," he says with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, Evan. Hopefully I won't disrupt your life too much and I can find a way back quickly."

[evantuality]

Evan stares, fixing his gaze on that apologetic smile. It's not a look he likes on Mel's face, and he examines it, trying to sort out the why of that.

"Don't apologize for being here," he tells the elf, reaching out to squeeze the other man's shoulder. Tactility is Mel's go-to, right? Stands to reason it'd offer him comfort, too. "Don't. There's got to be some reason you're here, and that's more important than any coursework. I can re-take courses if I need to -- but I won't need to," he hurries to assure Mel before he starts to worry, "I've been handling the workload just fine, I can handle a little more on top." That is a bit of academic bravado on his part; it is a deeply demanding course load, but... he'll manage. He will manage.

He searches the elf's expression, again uncertain what he's mining for. "Besides, I mean, that aside... I'm just glad I get to see you again."

[strikingtwice]

Tactility is something Meallan has always been comfortable with, craves in a way since the separation from his clan and his remaining family had meant that much of the casual contact he was used to as a daily part of life had vanished. He leans into the touch a bit, pressing against Evan's hand despite himself, but withdraws again a moment later.

"And I am glad to see you as well, Evan," he says hoping the other man doesn't think he regrets that part of all of this. "I really am. I just... I wish there was less to worry about and that I could just enjoy being here, with you. Not worrying about what people might think or how it might effect you or anything like that."

[evantuality]

There is a strange pragmatism with which Evan has been confronting the situation, one with its roots all the way back in how he'd dealt with crises among the Audentes. It's the same way they'd all dealt with floods, fires, chasms, angry aliens -- with a laser focus on the present and damn the consequences to be coped with later -- and it jolts him a little to find that old pattern, to discover he's applying it to his friend. But there's a utility there, isn't there?

He straightens, looks at Mel, shakes his head. "Look," he tells the elf, not unkindly, "it is what it is, and worrying about how it'll shake out in the end is something you can do later, if you really want to." He flashes Mel a grin, "Once we've got our ducks more in a row, really."

Inspiration strikes and he offers up a handily necessary diversion. "In the meantime we should work on your cover story. I've got a couple of ideas but they might need some explaining."

[strikingtwice]

Meallan blinks, a touch surprised at how rational and collected Evan is being, and nods slowly. He can see the definite wisdom in Evan's words, but it strikes him that the other man may have matured in his two years different in ways that Meallan mightn't be fully aware of.

He finds he's both curious to find out more and uncertain if he'll get the chance or if he'll have to leave before he can.

But Evan is right, it's not something to dwell on now, and he sighs and nods acceptance. "All right, so what exactly should I tell people then? Especially if your parents aren't going to be able to come up with something to help hide me immediately. People are going to wonder about the ears sooner or later."

[evantuality]

"People are already wondering about the ears," Evan tells him, wry. "Anyone who's seen you has wondered about the ears. Thankfully I think we can capitalize on some assumptions, there."

For a moment the young man is antsy, shifting to a sit where his feet are curled under him and frowning. Exactly how much does he lampshade the suggestions he's going to make, here? But it doesn't take him long to decide, and he gives Mel a forthright but apologetic look. "Forgive me, but any backstory we choose is going to have to paint you as a bit odd. It's not subtle that you don't know the norms here, and I figure that it's safer to, to come up with a reason for that than to try and give you the world's densest crash course here." He grimaces sympathy. "I think it's going to have to be a lie with a couple of layers, too, but we'll try and keep it the least complicated..."

He looks down with the face of someone who's fitting the pieces together in his mind, but quickly enough looks back up. "That's the part we'll address first. I think we should say you were raised in one of the anti-technology religious sects, like some sort of fringe neo-Luddite group. That'll kill us two birds with one stone, I think; if you explain that and then sort of hint that you don't really want to talk about it most people will assume you got kicked out, or that you left because you split from the belief system." He has to grin at the idea of Mel as a luddite. "I mean, it'll become apparent quickly enough you aren't a subscriber to that particular religion, so people can put two and two together. And if they pry," he adds, pointing at Mel like he's presenting a cherry on top of the argument, "then they're rude and you can tell them to mind their own business. How's that sound for the first part of things?"

[strikingtwice]

"Anti... You mean there are people who don't use things like the jewellery-like systems you have here? Because of what they believe in?" That strikes him as particularly odd, but then again, some of the Chantry's choices, particularly in the conflict created by the destruction of the Conclave, had been frustrating and strange as well.

"I suppose at least if I talk about life with my clan, it probably would fit that..." And he can see why Evan would pick that and what he's trying to help with, but at the same time... it's going to be a lot like the questions he got about being Dalish in the past. People wanting to ask questions like it was some novelty or display for entertainment, not his life. It's not Evan's fault, and he's glad as well that if he chooses not to speak about it to avoid that reaction, there might be an explanation for it.

"It works well," he agrees. "And it's not entirely unfamiliar territory as well. Although it doesn't explain that I don't look human by any means. Do people from these backgrounds usually dress that differently?"

[evantuality]

"No," Evan agrees delicately, and then sighs. He tucks his chin down and grimaces earnestly at Mel. "That's actually the rather more troublesome of the two to explain away. You're not really dressed like... anyone around here," he admit, rueful.

"But I think we can still work with it," he hurries on before Mel can worry. "It'll just be a bit more complicated. You can usually get people to stop asking questions about religion and family pretty easily, but--" He huffs a sigh, knowing he's getting ahead of himself. He stops, regathers, tells Mel, "Hear me out. This probably will sound a little strange.

"So there are people here who... who dress up in thematically similar clothing and... and sort of meet up for, kind of, something like mass improvisational acting. Like, some of it's historically themed -- although that wouldn't really apply to you, I think, it'd be just our luck to claim it's a Ren Faire costume and we'd get some history major coming by and trying to quiz you," he huffs. But that's a flood of words, so he tries again. "Another kind dress up as -- as made-up characters, either to show off their costume-making skills or to, to play out challenges and scenarios they find entertaining -- it's... kind of a niche thing but it's mostly what I can think of that might fit the bill. It's called LARPing and... it's not all that common." God, and it's terribly embarrassing to try and explain. The look he gives Mel is lightly flustered and thoroughly apologetic.

But he doesn't stop there. He'll field questions later, but if he can get this all over with in one rush he'll feel the better for it. "But actual LARPing takes knowing a ton of game rules and there's a learning curve there. We could maybe say you were heading out here for your very first LARP meetup, your costume all ready, but -- but your flight lost your baggage, including all your usual clothes and your money and everything, but you knew I went to school here so..."

He shrugs as he trails off, sighs. "I mean, it's more complicated than I'd like, but we're sort of strapped for options here."

[strikingtwice]

"LARPing?" Meallan tries the word out, his brow creased with thought at the suggestion Evan offers. Not all of it makes sense to him, but the bits that do seem like they would work well enough and Evan must know enough of his own world to come up with something that makes sense for others here. It's better than anything he can think of as well, so Meallan nods.

"I was going to try LARPing for the first time and my flight lost my baggage," he repeats, fixing the story in his mind. "That's why I need your help and a place to stay."

Speaking of... Meallan gives the other bed a look and then turns to fix another questioning look (it feels like that's all he's done since arriving, so much of everything seeming strange and confusing) on the younger man again. "Where am I going to stay? Between you and your roommate, there doesn't seem to be much room here."

Before Evan can answer, Meallan frowns in thought again and rises from the bed in a strangely graceful movement to move to the window, looking out into the grounds below. "I suppose I could camp outside. I wouldn't need much and there's plenty of space. Although I'm not certain how your school feels about that."