Over the river and through the woods (OPEN)

[elfroot]

Characters: Zevran and anyone else! (He's friendly and doesn't bite unless it's specifically requested.)
Setting/Location: Caravan balcony
Date & Time: Day 4, very early morning
Warnings: None, shockingly
Summary: After Cid Amon's little announcement, there's a great deal to think about--and do, presumably.

Comments

[house_1_god_0]

At this point, House would take clinic duty as opposed to awful, dulling boredom.

If there were one thing that truly annoyed him, it was having to sit on his hands and wait for something to happen. House hated being idle. At home, he had a variety of distractions to occupy his spare time. There was the drama of bad soap operas, the interests of figuring out Wilson's new problems and relentlessly taunting and ridiculing his staff. So, good times all around.

But this place was a problem because he couldn't do any of those things. The beauty of Princeton-Plainsboro was that pretty much no matter what he did, Cuddy would never fire him. He was the best doctor, yet at the same time, the worst. So he was allowed to do whatever the hell he wanted, even if it got him sued on occasion. Okay, once a month. Whatever. But here, it wasn't the same. He didn't have his immunity to be an ass, and judging on some of the characters here? He was the normal one here.

Ha. That was saying something, too.

So all he had to do was hang out in his the clinic or his room (it depended on which was occupied) and scope out the local yokels. In his college days, he had kept a literal little black book, but now, it was all in his head. And he already had targets. And lists of freaks who were most-definitely-fictional. Man, this place was a headache. And he had plenty of aches to go around.

Finding both of his usual hangouts occupied, House had taken to slowly meandering the caravan early in the morning. It was a bitch to sleep when the ogre toting you around farted, or something. Or maybe that was just a side-effect of his brand new "herbalicious" painkillers. Either way, he was up early this morning. Hearing about the Oregon Trail reference, he had hobbled to a balcony to check it out, only to find that it was occupied too. But hearing the quiet musing, House couldn't help himself.

"Life's a bitch. Even when you're in Disneyland."

[elfroot]

That voice was uncannily familiar, though it was not the same as hearing Alistair's dulcet, querying tones over the Junogam for the first time; it sparked a different category of recognition, one that Zevran related to the here and now rather than to the life he'd once taken very much for granted. He most assuredly had spoken with this man before, and even the topic itself was familiar, but the conversation had not been in person, nor had it been pre-caravan.

How strange it was to know a voice--and make one's acquaintances--before ever putting a face to the personality? This Willaknapp had more curious customs than even Ferelden, where men slept with their warhounds in bed beside them, not to mention with their boots on. Mud had its time and place in bedroom activities, in Zevran's opinion, but that, quite emphatically, was not one of them.

Accustomed as he was to dog breath waking him in the morning, and to Oghren unconscious by the campfire, even the ogre's minor...discomforts did not bother him as much as they might once have. The river, on the other hand, was a different matter. Lucky it was that Zevran knew how to swim, though others might well be a little less lucky. And there was always the chance that--in an ironic twist of fate--an elf who knew how to swim might easily drown, while others who were not so skilled would make it to the other shore. Zevran was nothing if not keenly aware that anything might--and often did--happen.

Was this little vacation not proof enough of that?

"Ah, yes, this 'Disneyland,'" Zevran murmured. "I remember mention of this place well enough. At times I wish that we were there instead of here; unless, of course, its ogres are less friendly and more easily aggravated and its rivers wider and more difficult to ford, in which case, I rescind that wish at once."

In other words: good morning and well met, Healer House.

[house_1_god_0]

More than Zevran, House was well acquainted with the wonders of the Internet. Many a hooker had he talked to after meeting them on Craigsli--Wait, that's not quite fairytale appropriate.

But he was honestly surprised that it was Zevran. House was never that good at making friends, for obvious reasons, but based on their conversation over the Junogams, he was a cool enough dude. Backwater, in some ways, but that was okay with House. It was all the more to mock people with. He would have been alright with saying his snarky comment and leaving, but House almost, almost just smiled.

"Well," he commented, "they probably are in some ways, but you have the advantage of it all being Disney Magic anyways. Ford the river all you want, as long as you don't drown, you can still sue for gross incompetence, or something."

House walked out fully onto the balcony with Zevran, squinting his eyes at the bright reflection of the sun off the water. If only he had his Kanye shades now. "You usually take morning walks downwind of a giant ass, or are you trying to scope out the river, too?"

[elfroot]

If only Craigslist had existed in Ferelden. Wanted: one competent hero to defeat Darkspawn Blight and Archdemon. Must come prepared to deal with extreme incompetence on behalf of everyone else. Those who are easily frustrated need not apply. But, as always, luck was not on the Grey Warden's side; he was constantly besieged by those who purported to assist him, and now not even Zevran was there to lend him aid when it came time to deal with villagers hell-bent, it seemed, on doing nothing in the face of adversity. Even in Antiva it was not so difficult to rally men to action. One could always count on an Antivan to do the wrong thing--but at least they were doing something in the first place!

Zevran shook his head, the physical motion just enough to turn his attention from the healer to the horizon. Ah, yes, there it was, in all its glory; an impressive and overwhelming sight, and this Cid Amon intended for them to cross it while at the same time offering no plans for how it would be crossed.

"At least," Zevran said, after a brief pause, "the ogre will be given a much-needed bath, something about which I cannot find cause to complain. As for the rest--whether there are leeches, piranhas, other carnivorous fish, and so on--only time will tell, I suppose."

HAHAHA fantasy craiglist omg

[house_1_god_0]

"Kind of sucks for those of us that don't do that well with swimming," he said, nodding to his leg. It wasn't a fish of sympathy, just simply fact. House hadn't actually tried going swimming since about the time he had lost the muscle tissue. One of his physical therapy exercises had been to try swimming after the surgical injuries had healed up well. As it turned out, he simply didn't have the capacity to do much other than float along or chill. Real swimming was out of the picture for him.

Unfortunately, most of the other physical activities he had enjoyed were, too. Most people didn't know it, but House had actually been really athletic before the leg-thing. But that was a fish for sympathy. Only Cuddy, Wilson and Stacy knew how that had affected him.

His cane seemed to tap louder against the wood now that he was thinking about it.

"You don't get the reference because of the world...things," He waved his hand to indicate those 'things.' "But it's actually hilarious. Never ford the river, basically."

if only there were tvs on this caravan man

[elfroot]

Ah yes; of course. The injury. Zevran remembered that now, along with his initial curiosity as to why a healer would not heal his own leg. Perhaps it was something Zevran did not understand, since spells were not his strong suit. Making poisons to injure others was a different matter, but when it came to healing those ailments, he was far less naturally gifted. Or, perhaps, there was some reason why House did not want to be healed; even the motivations of the simplest of men were always so complicated, and it was possible that this man did not even know the reason, himself.

Whatever the case, he looked buoyant enough. He could always seize upon a piece of driftwood and float himself to safety, unless of course he did not enjoy being wet, in which case he might have to suffer some discomfort first. There were worse indignities than death...but not too many, as far as Zevran was concerned.

"Once again, your references do go right over my head," he admitted, albeit still cheerful enough. It was rare to meet someone who held his own so tenaciously in a conversation, someone who so clearly enjoyed his little puns, and Zevran could understand that impulse well enough. "I can see where it would be inadvisable, however, though I assume we are incapable of merely...going around it? Surely it must end somewhere. Surely there must be some other ogres capable of building a giant ogre boat...?"

~*~true bros~*~

[house_1_god_0]

"Yeah, I don't know either. But it's never that easy. If it was, we'd already be in...Whatever the end of the line is. Because Wonder Woman has an invisible jet, or something, so she would just fly us there. Superheroes are predictable."

He was doing his best to ignore that whole "some of these people are fictional" thing, but it didn't always work. On the plus side, it did give him the edge. Oh, if only he had the real Internet. He could dig up dirt on everyone here. Probably. There was the idea that just maybe he didn't want to know, either, but like House could leave a mystery unsolved.

"The ferry seems like the best option, but I bet it won't work. It never does. Besides, what kind of ferry could carry his fat ass? He could contest your average American, seriously." He pointed a thumb at Grandore.

[elfroot]

It was spectacularly large, at that. "I would be careful if I were you," Zevran cautioned, teeth very white against his tan as he grinned. "What if it turns out that the ogre can understand our language? I would not want to anger a beast so big it could flatten me the same way I would crush a little fly. And no one enjoys hearing that about their posterior--especially not if our dear ogre is of the feminine persuasion. Do you catch my drift?"

In fact, Zevran had known a few women who had attempted to crush him like a bug for comments much like that one. And they had been intended as compliments! A few men had done it, too. Some people were so touchy. Did they see him getting offended in response to comments about his ears?

"But about this 'Wonder Woman' I have heard so much of in the past few days...do you know her yourself? Is she as wonderful as they say?" He had a brief, faraway expression; he could only imagine. Her voice itself was delightful, and he often did not bother with such little details.

[house_1_god_0]

He looked up to Grandore as if the answer to that question would suddenly reveal itself. It didn't exactly seem androgynous, but then again, House wasn't exactly versed in ogre anatomy. It could be a fat chick. It was like a mathematic equation. As fatness went up, gender approached a limit between male and female. Hence, Bro Rule #3: 'no fat chicks.'

It wouldn't the first time he had pissed off a fat chick, though.

"Yeah, I guess so. But it'd be the same response either way. Not exactly big on being nice." He gave a noncommittal shrug. Explaining comic books to West Coast Elf was more interesting than trying to explain Bro Rules.

"But yeah, sort of. It's complicated, but she's a pretty big name where I come from. Not as much as, like, Batman, but he's Batman. But she's wonderful if you like perfect, boring personalities. But I'm going to guess you mean her assets, in which case, yes. Quite."

[elfroot]

It was remarkable they could have such similar opinions when they clearly came from such dissimilar backgrounds. That was, perhaps, one of the more enjoyable aspects of this strange little detour. One of the less enjoyable aspects being, of course, the civic minded young man setting up partitions in the showers, and the ogre in question's myriad bodily functions--though had growing up in Antiva not prepared Zevran for all of life's little unpleasantnesses, Oghren's frequent bouts with indigestion surely would have done so in no time.

Was Oghren better or worse than a giant? Surely the output was the same, and since Oghren was so very much smaller, Zevran was inclined to believe it was the latter.

Nonetheless, there was occasionally something to be said for a woman with a little extra meat on her bones. Something extra to hold on to; and they tended to have more energy than the very thin ones, as well. There was, however, a point where even the most experimental of men--and elves--had to draw the line, and, Zevran had to admit, a woman Grandore-sized was too much for even him to handle.

He shuddered, just slightly, at the thought, then turned his mind to greener pastures. "I have heard rumors that she has a lasso with which she has tied various members of this little party up. Do you know if there is any truth in it? Mere curiosity," he added, with a wicked twinkle in his eye. "Something to pass the time thinking about, at the very least, along with her assets."

This Batman fellow--unless he was an actual bat the size of a man--might not be so terrible, either, if he, too, had a lasso.

[house_1_god_0]

House had never been into cartoon porn. The Internet had created a large variety of it, with basically every fetish ever (in combinations) applied, but it wasn't exactly new to him. He had a friend in college that got into that Japanimation stuff, and actually did buy weird pornos. Being fluent in Japanese, Dr. Weeaboo had insisted that House come over to translate them, and he had obliged out of pure curiosity. It wasn't like it was hard, considering it was mostly 'Ahn~'s and other sounds, but it had effectively turned him off of drawn porn. Real women were superior, obviously.

But that Wonder Woman show from the 70s didn't do anything for him, either. So he half shrugged, trying to remember what he could about her. He had a passing interest in comics when he was a teenager, but good old dad had made sure that House didn't stay attached to kiddie things long. He hadn't really gone back since.

After considering it, he said, "Yeah, the lasso makes you tell the truth while she ties you up. It's kinky. She's also from an island of warrior women, so copious lesbianism there, too. Bondage and lesbians. What else do you need in a comic?"

[elfroot]

Now, "porn," albeit a universal concept, was not something either Ferelden or Antiva had perfected as of yet. Of course, there were scrolls here and there of a decidedly naughty nature, and Zevran neither minded their existence nor turned down a peek whenever he was able. But when it came to that sort of thing, was it not far more enjoyable to participate than to observe? Voyeurism was one thing, but if he was given the option of being tied up or of looking at an illustration thereof, well... His choice was obvious.

"Hmmm... While the element of truth does not particularly appeal to me, I must say, I do appreciate the sound of this lasso," he admitted. He could just picture her now--on her warrior island, with her warrior companions, in their warrior armor, with their warrior constitutions and warrior stamina. As long as they were not overly murderous, and channeled that energy into less violent but no less passionate endeavors... He could get used to this, indeed. Certainly the idea of it was a far better fantasy than thoughts of the ogre. "I believe that your definition of 'comic' is somewhat different from mine--but I would not mind becoming more intimate with yours. Who would?"

[house_1_god_0]

"Well, they can be comical, but because they're either kind of dumb or they're supposed to be funny. They're just stories with pictures, and generally about a group of superpowered men and women fighting the forces of evil, or something. But that's not what you care about, right?"

Again, House almost smiled. If it were Wilson that he was explaining this to, it probably would be a fully cracked smile, but House was bad at branching out and opening up. Better, because of rehab, but it was a case of 'terrible' to 'slightly less terrible.'

"But all the women are built---drawn," he corrected himself, "perfectly. Boobs that are in danger of injuring people, wasp-thin waists, wearing little clothing, et cetera. But luckily, you can get close to the real thing because some real women will dress up as them. This is either awesome, because they're hot, or scarring, because they're fat and hideous. God's curse to man was making fat chicks think they could get away with wearing a leotard in public."