Well, one of us would approach stealthily, while the other dons a clever disguise to distract while his back is turned. Like so.
[There's use for this scarf Merlin will never wear after this, after all. Dorian raises it as a warning, then promptly starts wrapping it around Merlin's head to obscure his face without waiting for a reaction. Clearly, this is the perfect plan.]
Can you do another voice? Something less... I don't know, you? Something gruff!
[Merlin spends about all of this process protesting and trying to lean away from the scarf being wrapped around his head, for the record. This is terrible? Jesus. When Dorian is finally satisfied, Merlin immediately yanks it down away from his face so he can speak.
So that was a fun waste of time.]
I can do you one better than that. [He looks around, for... an abandoned alley... thankfully there are plenty of those in any given fantasy city, so-] Hold on a minute.
[And with that he darts off between two buildings without any explanation. It's not as good without his usual Old Man Garb (a plain red robe, he tries), but he'll use the scarf as a makeshift... shawl thing, which he's arranging around his shoulders in the most finnicky way possible when he comes back. Or rather, slowly limps back, because he's an actual 80 year old man now. There it is, folks: the fucking beard.
The clothing Dorian hates is the only thing left here that identifies him as the same plucky boy who ran off a second ago. It's so good. Look at him.]
Here, what do you think? The scarf really sells it in my opinion.
no subject
[There's use for this scarf Merlin will never wear after this, after all. Dorian raises it as a warning, then promptly starts wrapping it around Merlin's head to obscure his face without waiting for a reaction. Clearly, this is the perfect plan.]
Can you do another voice? Something less... I don't know, you? Something gruff!
warning: cursed
So that was a fun waste of time.]
I can do you one better than that. [He looks around, for... an abandoned alley... thankfully there are plenty of those in any given fantasy city, so-] Hold on a minute.
[And with that he darts off between two buildings without any explanation. It's not as good without his usual Old Man Garb (a plain red robe, he tries), but he'll use the scarf as a makeshift... shawl thing, which he's arranging around his shoulders in the most finnicky way possible when he comes back. Or rather, slowly limps back, because he's an actual 80 year old man now. There it is, folks: the fucking beard.
The clothing Dorian hates is the only thing left here that identifies him as the same plucky boy who ran off a second ago. It's so good. Look at him.]
Here, what do you think? The scarf really sells it in my opinion.