Iskaulit Mingle - Problems with Psychics

[notzubats]

Who: Anyone on the Iskaulit!
Broadcast: If you'd like?!
Action: Iskaulit!
When: Today, as Sora's augment glitch starts.

[It's your average day on the Iskaulit. Absolutely nothing seems out of place initially, but without any warning- you might find yourself or your friends experiencing some problems. What's up on that?

In other words, it's an Iskaulit mingle with a twist! Come on in everyone! You don't need to interact with Sora to have it effect you, so feel free to start your own threadstarter! Or talk to Sora, that's cool too. ]

Comments

Adalwolfe Hawke | OTA

[wolfehawke]

a. Darling, everything's on fire (Fenris swap - beginning of the week)

[At first he'd thought it was just general end-of-shift aches and pains, albeit much stronger than usual. Adalwolfe's now in the second half of his thirties and he's prone to more soreness than he used to be, especially after a night of repetitive motion here at the bar. He rubbed his shoulders, swung his arms, but it isn't until he catches his reflection in the metal of the sink that it set in that this is something entirely different.

He's got Fenris' tattoos.

Adalwolfe jumps back from the counter with a start, letting out a distinctly unmanful yelp as he slips backwards. Luckily he catches himself on the counter behind him. Unluckily, though, he catches himself with his arm phased through the counter, halfway to the elbow, with his fingers braced on the shelf inside the cabinet below and glowing a tell-tale blue throughout.]

Maker's holy toenails, what in the Void is happening?!



b. Man its so loud in here (Maglor swap - middle of the week)

[He's granted a day of respite between glitches or whatever in Andraste's name is going on, likely because he spent the day after having been swapped with Fenris recovering from the experience on the Three Twins. He has cause to be on the Iskaulit again the following day though, and not just for work. Ser Drools can only remain cooped up on the other ship for so long without going a bit stir crazy, so Wolfe brings him to the pet center for a romp and a groom.

The swap this time starts as a vague melody, more like a half-remembered tune than anything invasive and Adalwolfe whistles it unwittingly while tossing a ball for Drools. But the music gets louder and stronger and it's only moments before it drowns out his own thoughts and sets him crouching down with his hands over his ears, wondering wildly if he's going crazy or has contracted the Blight or red Lyrium poisoning or something.

The hands over his ears do nothing but he continues to cover them regardless, crouched and shaking, while Drools lets the ball drop and darts off to retrieve anyone who could potentially be in the area. He's intensely worried, and so anyone in the vicinity is going to get tugged and pushed bodily back towards the animal center, Drools barking in plea.

Help!]



c. How the other half used to live (Riona swap - end of the week)

[It took him longer to recover from having Maglor's powers than from inadvertently borrowing Fenris' but eventually Hawke feels ready to go back to work. Surely these glitches can't still be going on, after all. It's been a week already, and that truth one had only lasted a few hours. He'll be fine.

Or not.

This time it starts with a monstrous appetite, Adalwolfe catching himself munching on the ludicrously presenting bar snacks that are set out for patrons and not employees. He can see the bottom of the bowl (shaped rather avant garde-ly like a giant oyster shell) before he stops himself. While he's not exactly sparing at meals, this is out of the ordinary and makes him wary. Whatever it is, though, it's not so bad. A bit of extra appetite he can handle.

It's the lack of his magic in return that he doesn't know what to do with. He remembers being a child without magic. He remembers being a young teen, angry that he'd been gifted with it at all, but to now not have it at all? He was right in his private thoughts when Anders had lost his briefly to this same glitch earlier in the week; he was glad at the time that it wasn't him.

Serves him right.

For the rest of the day, Hawke tries to go about his business like nothing's amiss, but between the constant urge to keep sticking food in his mouth, the near endless stamina, and the niggling absence of the energy that he can usually feel running just beneath the surface, he's definitely a lot more moody than usual.]

A

[wolfuncaged]

[That sure is a shriek coming from across the hall over in the Space Bar. Fenris has had the markings nulled before- the United Earth did it once- but he's never, ever had them vanish completely on him before. That was shock enough- to have the pain from the lyrium suddenly and inexplicably vanished.

There was relief, of course, but the absence felt like a hole ripped out of him. He felt off balance- not right. His entire living memory involved the lyrium, to be without it so suddenly was a loss he couldn't put into words.

Fenris' life is always able to get worse, though. Always. While he's panicking over the sudden loss of his markings (and what that could mean, United Earth did *nothing good* with his abilities, after all) there's a crackle of lighting, which arcs out over his heads and gleefully takes out the lighting system in the bar (sorry Nami). Fenris stares up at it, confused and more than a little horrified. ]

Kaffas!

[Please no no, anything but this. No no no no no. There's another arc of lightning as Fenris makes a run for it right across into Malum- stopping dead when he sees Wolfe. Wolfe with his markings. And for once, he swears in the common tongue, rather than in Tevene. It's one of those days.]

...What the fuck?

[wolfehawke]

That's what I want to know!

[He's stuck. He would go to Fenris and try to figure this out, but currently he can't figure out how to get his arm out of the damned counter. He can feel it from there, though, the tingle of magic. It makes his - Fenris' - markings react and almost vibrate. Hum, like his blood hums briefly after a potion. It must be the lyrium.]

Ok... ok. Hold on. I think-

[He tugs at his arm, grimacing.]

-there's got to be some kind of-

[He grunts, tugging harder.]

-thing with the-- Ow! Blast it! How do you even do this?!

[wolfuncaged]

[What is happening? What the actual fuck is happening? Fenris see the markings react, as he has seen them on his own skin countless times. But the feeling isn't there. He doesn't feel it digging into his core, flowing through him like his own blood.

What he does feel is a draw from it. Mages have used his markings before, of course- their companions in the heat of battle, Danarius. He's never felt it from this end, though. The realisation he's drawing from his own power as a mage would is enough to make him stumble back.

There's a crackle of ice which flares out from Fenris' fingertips, narrowly missing Wolfe, instead encasing a nearby barstool. Farewell, good barstool, we knew ye well. ]

I don't- how is this happening?

[Maybe it's just a really, really terrible dream? Yeah.

Sorry Wolfe, if you were expecting any cohesive help from the elf. He's just going to be trying to stop himself from teetering over the edge into a full blown panic. ]

[wolfehawke]

I don't know, but be careful.

[His voice lowers instead of growing sharp, suddenly remembering Bethany first getting her magic with vivid clarity. She'd been terrified, scared out of her mind and every vehement gesture that came with that caused another gout of flame, another burst of lightning. The only thing that finally calmed her was Malcolm, always a steady force, so of course it would be him. There'd been a sense of failure there for Adalwolfe, though. He was there when it happened, when the boy from the village - he can't even remember what village now - had caught him making pretty lights and whirls in the air for his siblings in the woods. He'd screamed he'd call the Templars and started running, but before either brothers could react, Bethany had reached out her hands and...

The other boy had gone skidding down an incline, stunned more than anything. It had been raw force thrust from Bethy's shaking fingers; if it had been fire or lightning, the boy would have died. As it was, he didn't get up right away, and Adalwolfe had grabbed his sister's hand and run. Carver wasn't far behind, all three getting lost in the creeping dark of the woods, the edge of the Wilds maybe. He doesn't remember. He just remembers the tears on her face, the fear, the way every nervous movement caused sparks and sizzles and he couldn't calm her down. He couldn't do it until Carver had the sense to get Father.

Why me?! She'd screamed at him, like it was his fault. It's just supposed to be you!

It was the panicked reaction of a child, he knew that even at the time, but it lays heavy on him even now, along with every other failure in the eyes of his family. Everything he couldn't change, everything he couldn't prevent.

Why me?

He swallows hard, trying to remember what his father had done. When he speaks, it's with a lower timbre to his voice, something inherently calming somehow, though it's got an uneven edge as Wolfe isn't sure what exactly is going on either.]

Fenris. Fenris, listen to me, you've got to breathe deep, alright? In through the nose, out through the mouth. Count to five in your head each time. I'll do it with you. C'mon, one... two... three...

[wolfuncaged]

[Fenris remembers well, the early days of the markings. Of getting used to the pain they brought, of learning to harness the power it gave. A power even Danarius only really partly understood. It had been awful, it had been hard. Combined with the fresh emptiness where his memories once were, there were times he wished it had killed him.

But even that was nothing on this. Nothing on the fear and the disgust swirling in his stomach. He wanted to rip the magic out of him, to throw it aside and get as far away from it as he possibly could.

But it's not possible, and somewhere in his panic, he hears Wolfe's voice- and he listens. He breaths slowly, a rare moment for him to follow actual instruction. After a few deep breaths, he finds something. not truly calm, but he's no longer teetering on the edge of a complete meltdown either. He finally looks at Wolfe properly.]

...Your arm is stuck.

[Paging Captain Obvious. ]

[wolfehawke]

Yes. I, ah...

[He chews his lip a moment, then lets out an awkward bark of a laugh.]

Well, I panicked too. Just a bit. How do you... How does it work?

[Frankly, he's always sort of wanted to know but before, when it was a sore point for Fenris he'd never asked. Add it to the long list of things he'd never asked Fenris. But now he has a need to know, a reason to ask beyond mere curiosity, and he hopes Fenris takes no offense. He puts on his best - if sheepish - smile]

I can help you better with the magic if I was free, I think.

[wolfuncaged]

[This, at least, Fenris can focus on. Something other than his own swirling panic. Maybe this will help it. Keep it down to a minimum. Yes. This, he can work with. He closes his eyes, taking in a deep, steadying breath.]

You will feel the lyrium flow through your veins, you need to allow it to move. Like a stream. Let it flow, and you should be able to pull your arm free.

[Or fall through the floor into the vast emptiness of space. Either or. ]

[wolfehawke]

[Good thing you didn't say that out loud Fenris or Wolfe would be in that cabinet forever.

With a nod, Adalwolfe closes his eyes and tries to envision the flow of lyrium in his own body. It's not unlike envisioning the flow of magic, and soon enough he's able to phase his hand through the wood and metal. This time, however, with so much focus on the brands and how they function, he feels the ache that comes with it, an ache that rises into just this side of pain as he removes his hand and then fades again as he lays rest the will he used to control the markings.

The whole affair leaves him winded, panting not from exertion but from the spike of searing hurt that encompassed him for only a few moments but seemed like eternity. Even now the dull ache of the brands is more pronounced.]

Maker, does it always hurt like that?

[He looks at the graceful lyrium whirls on his hands, then up to Fenris again.]

[wolfuncaged]

Yes. It does.

[Fenris at least keeps his tone controlled, even. It is what it is, after all. No changing that no matter what. ]

There is a reason I do not enjoy being touched.

[Not all of it is due to Danarius' general skeevyness. ]

[wolfehawke]

I can see why now, yeah.

[He shakes himself a bit, not unlike a dog shaking off water. Something he learned to do to shake off pain (if Drools can do it, so can he) and he comes out from behind the counter.]

You didn't really talk about it. I mean, the you I knew before.

[He breathes out through his nose.]

Anyway. Right. Magic. I feel like I should apologize, but at the very least you're old enough to be able to think capably about it, and it's probably not permanent.

[He hopes it's not permanent. It really can't be permanent!]

C

[bryces_pup]

[Riona's lived in a state of half terror since earlier today. Suddenly being able to cast magic, while in theory was neat, in practice was kind of horrifying. Countless times, things froze when she put her hand on them, or hell, even when she wasn't touching them. There's a cleaning droid somewhere that's currently encased in ice.

Not knowing how long this would last, Riona realizes she needs a mage's help. Her relief is palpable when she spots Adalwolfe.]

Wolfe.

[She peers around the corner.] Can you - could you please help me?

[wolfehawke]

[He knows immediately, just like he did with Fenris and with Maglor and with Beverly having Anders' magic. He can just feel it. There's something innate that the swap doesn't take away, he'd have to guess. Something that makes him able to sense magic even if he can no longer use it. Or maybe everyone can sense magic, that feeling of the Fade prickling the air, and the only reason he can tell whose magic it is is through practice and memory.

Either way, he can sense it on her, and so he answers her call by wandering over around the corner, popping small handfuls of bar peanuts in his mouth as he goes. Why is he so damned hungry today?]

Magic, right?

[bryces_pup]

[His guess surprises her, but hey, at least it spares her from having to explain what was going on. Not that... she really knew, either. Riona nods, holding out her hands.]

Started earlier today. Froze a cleaning bot solid. It just - the bloody stuff just shoots out and I can't stop it!

[Gesticulating with her hands, her eyes widen in terror when she realizes that she just... froze one of Hawke's feet to the floor. Oops.]

[wolfehawke]

[He snorts at that, just amused instead of upset.]

That's alright, Fenris did worse at the beginning of the week.

[He pops another handful of peanuts in his mouth.]

Magic itself is about instinct, but controlling it is all about focus. You've got things you can do as a warrior or a warden like that, right?

[bryces_pup]

Poor Fenris. I saw him earlier...

[She swallows, keeping her hands clutched together lest she do something else by mistake.]

In a sense, yes. But I don't usually accidentally fling my sword at someone.

[wolfehawke]

Alright fair. Think of it like emotions, then.

[He'd explained it this way before, to Maglor and Beverly, echoing his father's words to him as a child. He'd hoped to avoid another harsh pang of memory, but it seems its not to be. It's the only way he knows how to explain it effectively.]

You still feel them, but you can't always show them. Think of a time when you wanted to simply cut an idiot noble's head off because he stood in your way for his own personal gain, but instead you had to be diplomatic. I'm sure that's happened to you. Well, controlling magic is like controlling that anger.

[bryces_pup]

Okay.

[Riona can understand that. Though, she worries a little because she knows she has a temper. And who knows how long this little... glitch will last.]

So essentially, I need to remain as calm as possible.

[wolfehawke]

Sort of. It's not that your emotions control your magic directly. You can get angry without shooting lightning everywhere. Strong emotions just make magic easier to access. It's much easier to envision someone's head on fire if you hate them. That's what I mean about self control.

[He lets out a slow breath, then draws in another, looking at Riona as if he expects her to follow suit.]

As much as the Chantry is wrong in how it treats magic and mages, there isn't any denying that magic is dangerous. It's just not any more dangerous than a sword. What's important, is that the mage isn't dangerous through a lack of control. Don't let the magic control you, you're the one in command. Here, let's try a little something.

[He pulls out a peanut from the bag in his hands.]

If you have my magic, this should be a little easier than a candle exercise. Come on.

[He motions her inside a convenient nearby room; it would be a bit awkward to do this out in the hallways of the Iskaulit. Once inside, he places the peanut down on the floor before stuffing another handful into his mouth.]

Lift it with magic. Try not to throw it, just lift it.

[bryces_pup]

It certainly doesn't feel like I can right now.

[The magic seems very much to have a mind of its own. Riona keeps her hands tight against her as she follows him. When they reach the room, she watches him place the peanut on the floor. She approaches, noticing how he shoves more into his mouth.]

Hungry?

[Strangely, she isn't. Odd. It's likely just the stress getting to her, she tells herself. Swallowing nervously, she reaches out her hands, staring at the peanut. It's such an odd sensation, feeling the magic just under her skin-

FWOOSH. A burst of ice comes out, striking the peanut and sending it flying. Oops.]

[wolfehawke]

Famish- Whoops!

[He snorts, unable to hide his amusement since he did very similarly when first trying to control his magic. Power is easy, finesse is hard.]

You've got to picture what you want to happen in your mind. The magic will follow your directions, but only if you trust it to do that. I know that's going to be hard, but you've got to trust it and yourself.

[If she can. If years of the Chantry preaching the dangers of magic hasn't made it impossible for her to trust it.]

a

[ofkirkwall]

[ There is a joke to be made about the girlish that came from him, a whole bunch of jokes in actuality. Jokes she'd ordinarily make without a moments hesitation - were she not so stunned by the distinct blue glow she normally attributes to a certain elf.

What in the name of the Maker's hairy balls is happening? Why is Wolfe glowing? ]

Wolfe? What are you─

[ Through the glow she can see the markings, sense the lyrium sitting underneath his skin. It's a familiar sensation that only serves to confuse her more than explain what the hell is going on. She frowns, moving from the threshold of the Malum towards her dear other self and the counter he is currently phasing through.

Look at all these lost opportunities for jokes, just slipping past her to fade into nothingness. ]

[wolfehawke]

[He can sense her too. Differently, oddly. Instead of a tingle in his mind it's a buzz in his skin, running the breadth of him. There's a strange pull, something he's not sure if it itches or hurts but it's a sensation he can't put his finger on. Like skin crawling, but nonstop, like an ache.]

I don't know.

[He's pouting. There's nothing else he can do, stuck as he is and at a complete and utter loss.]

Apparently today Atroma decided the role of Fenris would be played by me. Only I don't know any of the blocking.

[He tugs at his arm helplessly to prove the point.]

[ofkirkwall]

[ She looks him over, traces the markings with her gaze until it reaches the counter he is unfortunately stuck in. Is this a dream? It feels like some sort of wacky dream. A hand runs through her hair, gaze flicking back to his face. ]

You're entirely too tall and pale for the job, though your hair color is right. [ Maybe they can joke their way out of the situation. ] And I have no desire to kiss you.

[ Because that would be weird.

Tilting her head slightly she exhales, wishing she knew exactly how Fenris did the whole phasing through objects and people thing. She never really thought to ask over the years. ]

Have you tried picturing getting your arm out in your head?

[ She's trying to help at least! ]

[wolfehawke]

[He makes a face when she mentions kissing him. They're family, that's gross.]

Good, because frankly I object to this casting change.

[He looks down at his arm again, for once a bit tonedeaf to how this is effecting her, seeing the tattoos on the wrong person. It just goes to show how worried he is about being stuck like this interminably.]

What, just mind over matter it?