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[circlejerked]

Um. All right, no one panic, but I may have underestimated these magic closets of ours and accidentally... done something.

<sub>[Anders' voice, sounding contrite. In the background, an unremitting stream of noise threatens to drown him out--it's meowing, rising and falling at different pitches like a tone-deaf a cappella group trying to harmonize and failing miserably.

The camera settles unsteadily on the hem of his robes before he sets it down and steps back. The source of the caterwauling then becomes apparent: in his arms are four young cats of various shapes and color, two tucked under each arm.

By the sounds of it, more are audible off-screen. Many, many more.]</sub>

I wasn't thinking... Well, I was, I was thinking how much more homey this place would be with a cute cat or two, and then--and then they were just there, and everywhere, and now there are a few more than two. If you have cat allergies, stay off the fourth floor.

_{[As if on cue, a kitten on stubby legs capers across the floor behind him. Anders, noticing movement on the screen, squints closely for a second, then looks for the real thing over his shoulder.]}

One's making a run for it. Alistair! Alistair, catch it, my hands are full.

_{[From somewhere off among the caterwauling comes a response, the owner appearing shortly after--]}

I see it!

_{[Alistair runs past in the background, two cats under one arm and what is presumably another squirming about down his shirt. He comes back into view a moment later, the escapee cradled in his free hand. Shoving the kitten in Anders' face--where it proceeds to bat at his nose--he frowns at the other man.]}

This is getting ridiculous. We can't keep track of all of them. Is anyone coming to-- Ow!

_{[The yelp comes as the squirming under his shirt grows more energetic and with a slightly panicked look Alistair disappears from view again, kittens in tow. The only hint as to his fate comes as an increase in the mewling and the sound of fabric ripping mercifully out of sight.]}

I'm getting to that part!

_{[Anders stares after him, eyebrows drawn up in alarm, before dragging his eyes back to the camera.]}

Uhhh, it's okay, everything's fine, we have things completely under control, but as you can tell, we're in possession of some cats who could use a loving home! Soft, furry cats! Adorable, see? They're domesticated, easy to care for, and make excellent house pets. That one doesn't appear to be a fan of Alistair's shirt, but some are more fashion conscious than others.

I don't know if I can take care of them all. If you'd like to take one, we'll be giving them away free of charge in the ballroom. First floor, you can't miss it! _{[Anders then points a finger sternly, though the effect is mitigated by the wide-eyed kittens holding onto his arm.]} But no funny business. If you consider cats a delicacy, I'm warning you now, we're both heavily armed. People wanting to make mittens out of their fur need not apply.

_{(OOC: Come find the log over here!)}

Comments

[circlejerked]

I never thought I'd be glad not to look toward the future, but I am. The Inquisition is still just the ancient organization that founded the Templar Order, and I'll be happy if it stays that way.

_{[Anders can live without abominations, and mage-templar wars, and corrupt magisters, and all of the rest of it. One day, one week, one month at a time, that's the key. Worrying too much over people he hasn't met and events he hasn't seen is a quick way to drive himself mad.]}

I hope the tales he spun were flattering.

_{[It's a joke. He knows enough by now to guess they probably weren't, not by a long shot.]}

[cabalistically]

[ Solas smiles faintly, the expression one of understanding and relatively little judgment. As a man who has had unflattering stories told of him for thousands of years, he knows what it is to expect all those who have heard his name to expect the worst. ]

Some of them were. [ That’s genuine. ] He spoke of a man who made mistakes, yes, but through it all, he spoke of a friend.

[ Can Solas say similar? Perhaps. Perhaps not. He is not certain. ]

Whatever you’ve done, your friends still care. That is a rare gift.

[circlejerked]

_{[That's surprising.]}

... Really. "Friend" isn't a word I've heard bandied about much.

<sub>[Anders knows better than to trust in the world's implicit kindness; his first impulse hadn't been to look for friendship in the faces of strangers. But years spent living in Kirkwall is a long time. Perhaps he'd cultivated more than mere dissent there.

Or the other Anders had, at any rate. This Anders merely offers a full smile. He appreciates the elf's words, regardless of the truth of them.]</sub>

That's a gift I'll strive not to take lightly. Although my first thought is for not making anyone regret their friendship with me in the first place. That goes for old friends, current friends, and people who may become friends.

_{[That includes fellow cat lovers!]}