westwhere | (no subject)

Who: Regulus Black and YOU
What: Catch all, we’ll see where this goes
When: Early June
Where: Wherever Regulus goes
Warnings: None at the moment, but individual threads will include warnings if necessary

[OOC: Individual thread starts for various other threading ideas will be in the comments, if you have an idea for a thread other than the options presented, hmu on plurk or PM to plot.]

Exploring the farmhouse
On one hand, Regulus was grateful to have been rescued from those forest people who’d restricted his movements quite a bit. On the other, they had fed him and given him shelter, and the freedom and what was on the other outside their dwellings wasn’t impressing him much.

A decrepit farmhouse full of rat droppings wouldn’t impress anyone, in Regulus’ opinion.

He found the garden and the study the most interesting parts of the farmhouse, the places he liked the most.

The garden, for the enchantment placed around it to grow the plants. The plants themselves were uninteresting, but the magic around them was interesting. He could read some of them – earth, (wo)man, sun/time, growth, but he had absolutely no intention of touching them, he was smarter about magic than that. But this was a place where magic existed and that was comforting.

The study was interesting for the books, more specifically, the astronomy books. One look at the stars at night and he knew he was not on earth anymore. Where was he specifically? He had no idea. But though he couldn’t read the language used in the books, he recognized the star charts and could now easily pick out the different constellations. It was a puzzle for him to mull over in his copious amounts of spare time.

Visiting the lake
There was nothing unusual about the lake, and this disappointed Regulus. For a week, he’d watched the forest people shout angrily at it and spit at it, and when he’d tried to sate his curiosity as to why, they would just get fluster and shuffle him away from any direct line of sight of the lake.

Clearly that meant that something was hokey about this particular body of half-frozen water.

But it was just a lake.

However, now that Regulus had moved to the farmhouse and his movements were no longer restricted by the forest people, Regulus found himself coming here, standing on the shore or walking along the edge, again and again, like there was a mystery to unravel. He knew the forest people wouldn’t be forthcoming about their secrets, but maybe if he studied the lake, he’d figure something out.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Regulus snorted because he couldn't deny he'd thought the same about the tea.

"No tub, I'm afraid," he said. Which begged the question of why he was so immaculately clean himself.

"Kitchen's this way," he said, nodding his head and starting to lead the way. "I do have wine if you'd rather that than hot pretend water."

"No tea, no tub, no privy," each of these offenses are hissed through her clenched teeth. Maybe Regulus would hear her, maybe he wouldn't. Cleansing with magic, at least cleansing the way she prefers, is far more relaxing with hot water, soaps, oils, salts and creams. The comforts are superficial in theory but the upkeep is a means of grounding herself, having pride in herself. Remaining relaxed and composed, appearing to be alluring and immaculate was vital to being a sorceress.

"When you say there's wine does that mean it is enjoyable to drink for flavor as well as potency?" Yennefer prepared herself to be disappointed as she stepped behind him to the kitchen.

"Do you want just wine- red or white, or mulled wine?" he asked, notably not moving towards any of the cupboards in the kitchen. Instead, he let his wand, hidden up his sleeve, drop to the palm of his hand, and he conjured two glass goblets that would look fitting in the Noble House of Black if they had been true crystal. But they would work for this, all the same.

Yennefer's violet eyes widened with the spark of interest. Were the goblets real? Magic and enchantments are fine enough in their illusion or transformation qualities. The wand cannot be missed, antiquated and amusing as the first time she had seen one. A laugh bubbled up but ceased after a brief peal.

"Mulled," she answered. "Another mage."

Or sorcerer. Every realm has it's own title or term, it's the foremost on her mind. "So you're transforming the water." That is not considered a problem because she extended a hand to take the goblet. If it can get her a state of drunk and calm, she would be grateful.

"No, I'll simply be conjuring it," he said. For reasons Regulus didn't fully understand, alcohol did not fall under one of the Five Exceptions of Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. Food, Regulus would need to have it already in order to multiply it or enlarge it, or if he knew where it was already, summon it. But alcohol, well, there wasn't a Slytherin who didn't start trying to conjure alcohol the moment they realized it didn't fall under one of the exceptions.

With a simple flick of the wand, Yennifer's goblet filled up with a deep red liquid. And the same thing happened to Regulus' goblet.

"This place is full of people who can do various kinds of magic." Power, magic? Regulus just liked to think of it all as shades of magic. It was easier on his mind to think of it that wa.

Yennefer's eyebrows stood lifted, her eyes fixed upon the goblet. It filled. And instead of the stale, cold hay smell of the farmhouse the spiced tart smell of the spirits wafted to her senses. All the savagery and discomforts around her had lowered her inhibitions enough for her to soft murmur a pleased hum. If this was an illusion, she'd happily partake. It seemed real enough without taste. That would be the true test.

"May they be as useful and charming as yourself," she lifted her goblet in a toast, and yes she would be waiting until Regulus lifted his to touch her's or at least return the gesture.

The first taste has a similar hum in her throat. Just as she wanted, just as she craved. And of course because it was too good to be true it made her suspicious. "You've...been here long?" Long enough to be able to find ways for his own sorcery to serve him. And long enough to have seen a few other reactions to the farm abode.

Regulus would take the praise where it was given. And he knew it had been coming.

He touched his cup to Yennifer’s to a nice clinking sound and took a sip.

“I’ve been here a few weeks,” he answered. “I was stuck with the forest people for about a week before Karsa found me and then sent me here.”

He took another sip. Magic sure did taste delicious.

“How did you end up here?”

Not all power is simply in spells and incantations. Yennefer's face brightened into a smile before she took another deep sip of the wine.

"I haven't been here near as long," she offered. Her first instinct was to clam up, to beguile and slowly pull information out. If he was a mage he would be wise to such things. Then again he is a man. A man with a good taste in mulled wine.

"Karsa also found me, I suppose I had been there a bit longer and was affixed to the tree by the forest people." Her nose slightly scrunched at the thought. "Before that I was miles and miles away--" She nearly started telling him what and where her life had left off to her memory. Would it mean anything at all?

"You came here by accident as well?"

"They tied you to the tree?" Regulus practically gapped. The Forest people had encouraged him to join the trials. But he wasn't foolish enough to sign up for any of that. And the tree? That was the worst trial of the three.

"You're going to need more of this." And with a flick of his wand, her cup filled up more.

"Apparently, we are here by no accident. We've been summoned here by one of the local warlords to fight in his army of undead."

"While I was in a more vulnerable state. I would never have chosen such a ridiculous thing. Especially without knowing the ramifications." Yennefer would rather not think about what it was supposed to mean or whether or not doing such an act marked her for dead or some other grim fate.

"Yes," she didn't even hesitate. The glass will be quietly drained right after. Mulled wine on an empty, grim feeling stomach won't do away with such feelings. At least it will make the edges of the matter softer, fuzzier. Yennefer nodded at his words, catching her breath. She demurely dabbed the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Fucking politics everywhere. What makes the fool believe that perfect strangers are candidates for the task? Of course he's a man."