feigns | ► two → video/action。

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► two → video/action。

[When the video first clicks on, all that's visible is Will's face and the top of his shoulders. The feed shifts slightly, and from the angle it's being held at, it would be reasonable to assume he's led down, and even more reasonable -- from the slight squint and the admittedly somewhat dirty red bricks visible in one corner of the screen -- to think that he's outside and on a wall. After a moment, he appears satisfied that the device is, in fact, turned on, and places it somewhat clumsily behind his head, slightly further along the wall.]

I assume if this were normal, it would have been mentioned somewhere in between the rampaging wooden animals and the impromptu, temporary marriages ― perhaps just after cats, but before the clones. I shan't complain, though I feel as if I ought to be speaking of― [he pauses for a moment, waving a hand vaguely and briefly adopting something approaching a passable West Country accent] ―thic faraway lands, visited only by a daring, and arguably foolish, few on gurt maggoty ships.

[He sits up suddenly, and turns round to study his device; he looks cheerful, albeit slightly grubby and fairly nonplussed by the situation as a whole, although it soon fades into poorly concealed irritation.]

Perhaps Bristol's only up the road, or Teignmouth to the west and Torquay just below that. I suppose we shan't ever know; in a few hours more, we'll be somewhere and somewhen else entirely, taking part in a wholly ridiculous scavenger hunt. Why would it be as simple as playing along in what amounts to a bastardised children's game?

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I've passed through. [You know, when he travelled from Wales to London. By himself...]

[... nice.]

Ever go through Devon?

No. It was a little out of the way, and there was never any need.

Where were you—

[She doesn't get to finish that sentence. Some rough, drawling voice interrupts her and the proposition he makes is even less charming. If a pause could be filled with ice, the one from Ginny's end is chilling.]

Excuse me.

[The audio shuts off for a few seconds but not before she grits out her spell in vicious Latin. And then she's back, and it sounds like Ginny is on the move.]

It's always the colour of my sodding hair.

[The sound of Will laughing is audible for several moments, and when he speaks, he sounds marginally impressed.]

You could always wear a hat.

And be mistaken as a bloke and dragged onto one of those maggoty ships? I don't think so.

[A pause and she ducks into an alley, peering around the corner of it and hoping no one starts crying witch or something. You never know.]

Probably easier to just turn it brown for the day.

You can do that?

[Wait. Shite. Did she ever mention being a witch? She knows she's implied magic, but.]

Er, yeah. It's simple, really.

I doubt whether most people would describe it as simple.

I'm a girl. Things like this are simple.

[Pause. I'm also a witch, she thinks. It makes it even simpler. But she doesn't say it, because she's so used to keeping that part of herself quiet, and she's always wondering if it'll turn people away from her. Especially since last summer.

And then she finds herself wondering why she cares whether it drives this particular someone away or not.

But for whatever reasons, she holds her tongue. For now.]

Edited 2011-06-16 12:41 (UTC)

If you insist.

[His tone is full of scepticism, and it's clear he doesn't believe her, but equally, he's not going to press the issue. It's none of his concern, after all.]

I do.

[Almost everyone she knows is the sort to keep at something until they get their answers. As much as Will irritates her, his choice to leave it relieves her and she's almost grateful.]

So. You're not going on the deities' little treasure hunt?

[For his part, he's simply glad that she appears to have forgotten about the question it had sounded as if she'd been about to ask before she was so rudely interrupted.]

No. There's no reason for me to trust them, or even to believe that their claims are remotely near the truth.

There's always a catch. I've never made a deity trade but I've heard enough to let this wish thing pass me by.

[She hasn't forgotten, not really. But it didn't seem too important to her and it's a question that might come up again, if only because he's actually been to her part of England and she's always interested in that.]

Not that I don't want to go home. Just not like this.

It seems like common sense.

You have that?

Occasionally, when the stars align and the tide's right.

If you say so, Professor Trelawney.

[Still walking, walking, walking.]

And I've seen enough of the tide for one day, thank you.

I do say so, Miss Weasley.

I shouldn't imagine it'd be that interesting to you, anyway, as you live in Devon.

Actually, I was sort of further inland. I hadn't really seen the ocean until the City, though my eldest brother and his wife apparently have a cottage on the coast of Cornwall.

Hence the chickens, I suppose.

Loads of chickens.

[And she seems to have come up along a wall, which... oh, Merlin, it looks like the one in the video. Ginny stops walking, frowning as she scans the area.]

D'you have anything against them?

[Whilst Will is just continuing to do nothing much except laze around on it, really.]

They're more trustworthy than ducks, even if that's due only to their subpar intelligence.

Sounds like there's a story behind that.

[This as she still looks around, and–oh, Godric, there he is. Well. It would be rude not to introduce herself, though their last conversation didn't exactly end on an amicable note. So she tucks her device into her belt and wanders over to him; she's all breeches, boots, and full-sleeved billowing shirt. Hence being mistaken as a bloke had she worn a hat to cover up that mane of copper hair of hers.

Ginny sighs under her breath and approaches him, one brow quirked.]

Don't tell me William Herondale got his arse handed to him by a duck.

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