driftfleet | 006 - action/voice; i came in like troy walking in with pizza

Entry tags:

006 - action/voice; i came in like troy walking in with pizza

Who: Clay Terran + You people
Broadcast: Yes!
Action: On the Iskaulit
When: June 7th, a bit after this

[You know, Clay hadn't been expecting a day like this. All he was doing was going to the Iskaulit to do some workouts in the gym, even bopping to a tune playing in his head.

Of course, that all comes a stop when he sees the mess before he sees anyone else. Blood trailing through the hallway, like someone had been walking with it. His stomach churns a bit, and his first instinct is to flee and get someone with medical help. Like Jennifer, or Beverly, or...

But no, he's here, and he... doesn't really realize just how bad it is yet. He returns to his shuttle first to grab the first-aid box, then heads in to see who needs his help.

And upon following the trail, well... Turns out, it's a lot worse than he thought it'd be, and that instinct from before comes back full force. He's only had some lessons, he's not prepared for this level of medical trauma, he really isn't -

And that's why he'll be calling out on the comms - not video, because there are kids on the network, but it's pretty clear by the state of his shaky voice that this is definitely an emergency.]

I-I need doctors - healers, medics -

[He takes in a deep breath - ]

I need all medical personnel to the Iskaulit right now!

((ooc: Everyone's free to branch off, tag other threads, etc! This is a general rescue/medical aid post for Winter's wrecking ball.))

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[After trying (in hindsight) to bully Anders into revealing his nature as a mage, it hadn't taken Hawke long to decide that he couldn't expect less of himself than he does of his lover. Er. Former lover. Or no, lover to be? Maker this is complicated. But either way it leads Adalwolfe to make his way to the Iskaulit too in order to lend what help he can, especially if Anders won't be helping.

Only after a short time, Anders is there, moving among the wounded with his hands glowing that familiar comforting glow and Hawke can't help but smile. A smile that vanishes rather quickly with where he left things with Anders. He owes the man an apology.

Adalwolfe waits until everyone's at least been looked at, doing what little he can with his limited creation magic and keeping an eye on Anders until he can get a reliable moment alone with the blond.]

I'm sorry.

[He says it quietly, but with painful sincerity.]

[He's starting to feel the strain of his mana running low and the general toll his healing took on him, but people were better and that was all he could do.

So far, it hadn't seemed to be too bad, but that might change in a week as well.

He'd caught sight of Hawke while he was working, but he hadn't let himself dwell on it...or really look at the other mage for very long at all, if he could help it. Not until Hawke came to him. Anders had run out of patients that needed him, everything left could be dealt with without magic. Unfortunately, that meant he didn't have much to distract himself with now that Hawke had his attention.

He found a table to sit at and leaned against it, one hand coming up to absently play with the gold hoop in his ear.]

For what?

Coming up to someone to generally apologize is a little vague. It's not your fault these people got hurt, nor that I lack my usual soaps and creams and the like since arriving here. But perhaps it is your fault there's nothing on my ship that will take the blood out of my robes or out from under my nails. Did you happen to cause a shortage on cleaning supplies or things for personal hygiene?

[Make a joke. Pretend everything was fine and he wasn't scared someone was going to turn the corner and try to lock him away for his magic in the next thirty seconds or whatever other awful options ran through Anders' head.]

You know, I would like this sense of humor if I wasn't aware you were trying to steer me away with it.

[Adalwolfe joins Anders, though he actually sits at it, even if it's facing away so he can oversee the room instead of making eye contact. He sits in his chair backwards and leans his arms on the back.]

No, none of that is my fault, but I did push you to this against your will. I'm apologizing for my assumptions.

I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, I'm just naturally charming and charismatic. The jokes are simply a happy side-effect.

[It does not fill him with confidence to know Hawke sees right through him. In fact, he finds he really doesn't like it.]

Well, as it happens, it wasn't you, it was my shipmate, Jon Snow. He didn't leave me much choice; frankly, for all of their technology here, I'm very disappointed you can't 'hang up' on another person in the room.

...As for you assumptions. I appreciate the apology. I'm...aware the other Anders before me healed more readily, and perhaps that's what you're used to as well, but that's not who I am.

I see. I'm sorry about that too, then. He offered to me to see if you were there and I told him I'd call you instead. I guess he decided to check anyway.

[A sigh, and Adalwolfe's face folds into a far-away look, something Merrill had once called his 'sympathetic leader' face.]

I do understand. I was an apostate too, on the run. Never in a Circle, but my father taught me to be wary of showing my abilities for fear of the Templars. Fear of everyone, honestly. Anyone can run and tell their local Chantry sister that there's an apostate in their midst. We moved so many times, all over Ferelden.

[Adalwolfe rests his chin on his arms. He's told Anders this story before, long ago but also in a few years all at once.]

It never stopped him from healing the sick or injured though, or fighting off bandits or wolves, helping those people who would just as soon see us caught, and teaching my sister and I the same. I didn't understand it until I was older but he was acting how a mage should, showing them there was nothing to be afraid of. They still turned him, or rather all of us, in more than once and we had to make escapes in the middle of the night, but there was also always someone helping us. A grateful farmer, a practical midwife, someone who had needed the help.

[He sits back up, running a hand over his face tiredly.]

Not sure why I'm telling you all that, tired I guess, but I do understand not wanting to reveal your skills out of fear.

[Anders is quiet in response. The only thing to run through his mind is how the senior Hawke sounded like a Maker-made saint for all of that. Anders would never, not unless his continued freedom depended on it and, more often than not, it was the opposite. When he does speak, his tone is a touch more thoughtful and thick with a longing he hadn't let himself feel or dwell on since arriving. But this annoying man felt...easy to talk to.]

It was easier back home. I was welcome among my fellow Wardens. I was hardly the only mage, but even in my initial little group, none of them would have turned on me. No, I'm fairly certain they would have protected me as Warden-Commander Cousland did.

[Now he smiles a bit to himself.]

Nathaniel would likely be able to put on his noble airs and make whoever it was backdown, Ogrhen would simply need to be nearby to be offensive enough to turn someone away. Velenna has the uncanny ability to simply be intimidating by exisiting and Sigrun would find a way to threaten any templar while sounding like the sweetest thing to ever exist.

[He grimaced a little, but the smile didn't falter.]

Justice I'm not sure. Either he would take the matter too personally and be outraged or he wouldn't see the point in it and be uninterested, he generally only runs in extremes.

[Maker did he miss his friends. He wanted to pretend he didn't, but the truth of the matter was that he was finding himself terribly lost without them, even after having known them only a short time.]

[He was going to make some point regarding Anders still having friends despite his status as an apostate, that it proves not every single non-mage person is going to feed them to the Chantry and that their fear shouldn't stop them from helping people because it's how they gain those friends, but Anders talks about Justice like he's a separate person and all of that goes out of Hawke's head.]

Justice? The spirit?

[Hawke's reaction snaps Anders' attention to the white-haired mage, looking at him in earnest for the first time since they'd settled here.]

Yees...? I didn't mention he was a spirit, though. You know of Justice?

[His mind traced over a few facts that put him on edge almost immediately and had him biting back fifty more questions he wanted to ask. Hawke was from ten years later and clearly knew Anders in some capacity. Cole had mentioned something happened to Justice. Maybe Hawke knew what that something was.]

I- well. Yes. I know of him.

[He suddenly feels as if he's trodding on uneven ground. He shouldn't have said anything, and he's usually smart enough to avoid this sort of conversational pitfall, but he'd spent so long being comfortable around Anders that he's wandered in blindly and now looks up at him from the bottom of a well.

Adalwolfe sighs, sitting up and looking at Anders in turn. Might as well see how horribly this goes.]

How much of your future do you really want to know?

I'm...not certain. I've been winging it for so long, I don't know that I'd like to know whether it works out for me in the end or not and the way some people here talked to me when I first got here...well. I get the feeling there may be parts I won't like.

[It's probably the most honest thing he's said since arriving in the fleet. How much did he want to know? Did he want to know about Kirkwall? About what happens there? Anders had his guesses and he certainly had his hopes, but since when had his 'dreams' culminated in anything but desperately running in blind and hoping for the best outcome? Escape after escape after escape and finally a year that had nearly broken him and now a life of servitude fighting monsters in defense of people who would never appreciate it.

But he was free. Did he want to know if it lasted?

No.

But for his friend's sake, he needed to know if he could help Justice from whatever Cole had been implying.]

Someone here told me something about the other me. How, through him, they knew Justice but he said he was...Vengeance instead. He said Vengeance could so easily turn to Rage and I can't-

[He goes quiet and looks to his hands which clasped together like they tried to curl around words that were foreign to him.]

If you know anything about Justice, you know he's terrified of becoming a demon since he's trapped outside of the Fade. If he turns to Rage, then that fear will be realized and I need to know if there's anything I can do to help him. I owe him that much. Tell me of that, if you can.

There are parts you won't like. There are parts you didn't like, parts I didn't like either.

[Adalwolfe sighs, resting his chin on his arms again, watching people mill about across the room as if they're miles away.]

Justice wanted to help you. You told me you offered to be a host and in return you would help him to help the mages, or he would help you to right that wrong, but...

[He exhales.]

It didn't turn out as either of you predicted. Good intentions aren't always enough to see you through.

[Anders goes very quiet, his thoughts racing and he swore he felt ill. Part of him had suspected. 'Spirits shouldn't live in people, it changes them both,' Justice would change into something he wasn't and it was caused by another person.

Him. He would change Justice. He would see his friend twisted into something neither of them wanted for him. And he would, what? Become an abomination? Maybe not with a simple spirit inside him, but if that spirit changed?

But why would he do that? He remembered their conversation, how Justice couldn't comprehend why Anders wasn't trying to help his fellow mages, but even though the spirit had planted his doubts, it hadn't changed Anders' mind.

Not unless he was desperate and Justice was too. But it was such a stupid thing to do.]

Why?

Why would I do that? If I was desperate, maybe, but with the Wardens, I haven't...and the Commander would surely try to help Justice find an alternative if Kristoff's body stopped working or him, it doesn't make any sense. It doesn't make sense.

[He wished Justice were here now, or maybe that Varric wasn't gone so he could ask the dwarf instead, see if maybe he knew any more. But then what? What would knowing accomplish? Could he change it if he knew?

Should he change it?]

Then, that's it? It's my fault Justice changes?
Thanks, Hawke, what a wonderful bedtime story, just as good as the ones I heard back in the circle.

I'm getting monumentally tired of people blaming me for things I had little to no control over just because I was the one who told them about it, after I tell them they won't want to know, mind. Is this just a Warden trait, to attack the messenger when they deliver information you don't like?

[Adalwolfe stands up, rounding on Anders.]

I've never done anything but try to help and all I get is hostility and called a liar. I'm sick of it, especially from you! Do you even recognize how hard this is? I risked my life for you more than once and I know you haven't experienced that yet, that you don't even know me, and yes I slipped up over this when other people were in danger but since the moment I spoke with you here in the Fleet I've been keeping my distance despite all that because I know how difficult it is to have disparate memories. I don't want to make it harder.

[He pushes his chair away with a jarring scuff sound across the floor. It nearly tips over, clattering a bit as it settles on its legs again.]

The least you could do is show me the same courtesy.

[There's a moment as Hawke looks at Anders, drawn to his full height so he's eye to eye with the other mage, his icy gaze locked to the amber of the healer's and for that one moment Hawke's anger nearly breaks like a fever, the hurt underneath peeking through, the barbs that stick in him because it's Anders digging at him and he can't even be truly angry because he doesn't know and Hawke doesn't want to tell him because the rejection of that would be too much for him to stand.

There's that moment, and then it's gone. Adalwolfe turns away and strides towards the door - away from Anders - with purpose.]

[He very nearly lets him go, if only because he's too stunned to move a moment. But then he finds his feet and that anger always lingering just below the surface rears up in response and he's following the other mage.

They're in the hall by the time his fingers latch around Adalwolfe's arm, grip far tighter than the thinner mage seemed to posses most of the time.]

Oh no, you don't get to stomp off like some child after blurting out how hurt you are, how hard it is!

You think you're doing me a kindness by withholding what you know? And then you turn around and get angry at me for not understanding! What do you want from me, Hawke? When I first talked to you, the way you looked at me...there's a whole lot more between us than you're letting on and I get it, I understand it hurts that I don't remember, but expecting me to 'show you the same courtesy' when I don't even know what ice is thin and what isn't is hardly a 'friendly' thing to do.

I'm sorry I don't like what you have to say, but I don't know what else you expect from me when you just told me a friend of mine was going to be hurt because of me. I didn't realize I had to 'soften' my reaction for you.

[Now he lets go and takes a step back.]

Go if you want, but the next time you come to me, it better be to level this field we're on and not to keep playing games.

[Damn the man but he's right. Hawke's legitimately tried to keep this at an uncomplicated for Anders but not just because that's easier for the spirit healer. Because it's easier for him to be able to walk away or hide and try not to think about it. But all that does is what Anders says to him here. It comes out in bursts and confuses the both of them, it rocks the ground right out from underneath worse than any earthquake and leaves them flat on their backs with no choice but to get up again and weather the next tremor.

He can't let it continue, but he also doesn't know what to say. What can he say that won't send Anders into a self-deprecating spiral that he knows the mage is prone to. He's been there for it more than once. Only that was - is - in Anders' future. Not his present, and Hawke has lamented to himself more than once how different the mage is, but maybe for this it will be a help.

Adalwolfe stands there for a moment and breathes in at a measured pace. Holds it for a moment. Breathes out at an equally measured pace. Something of the tension around him fades; not gone, just pushed into the background, and he turns to face Anders.]

I'm sorry. You're right. I haven't been fair.

[A beat to let that sink in, to allow them to stand on equal ground before Hawke continues.]

I don't know where the field is level. If I did, I would go that route in a heartbeat, but I don't. I don't know what I should tell you or what I shouldn't because I've already said to much to others and it's turned out poorly.

[He presses his thumb and forefinger into his closed eyes for a moment, trying to think.]

You're so different from the man I met, from the man I...

[Now or never, and he knows already by the sound of it.]

I fell in love with. Still am in love with, but I know that you have no idea who I am. Not really, and it's unfair to put that on you. I don't blame you, but it is difficult for me to stand here and pretend that it isn't my present, which is what I had thought to do. If that's what you would prefer, please just tell me now.

[Another breath.]

As for Justice, it's... far more complicated than being hurt. I don't even know if I understand it entirely, or if I have any right to even give my opinion on it. I've never known if I had that right. I know that's cryptic but once a thing is said, you have that knowledge. You can't just forget it, and I don't want to cause more irreparable damage. Especially not to you.

[He feels like he stands on a ledge and is slowly losing his balance on it with each word Anders can hear coming before Hawke's even said it. And then he does say it and that balance is gone, leaving his stomach to lurch in the fall.

No, mages didn't fall in love, they couldn't. Sex, flirting, kisses, they were a game but love was not a mere trifle.

Beyond all that, he was already spoken for. Anders' heart was already gone, spirited to Kirkwall against his will and now here came Hawke saying, at some point in his future, he held it instead. Hadn't he wished for no more Games from Hawke? He wished this were that, but the emotion was plain as day on the other mage's face.

Anders shook his head, feeling more lost than he'd felt upon hearing about Justice. He cared for the spirit, thought of him as a friend he wished to protect and help, but Karl was something else entirely. Karl was his lifeline, his beacon of hope, more of his best friend than even Riona.]

No, Karl...that wasn't what Varric-

[No, Varric hadn't said anything. He'd said Anders went to Kirkwall and that had been enough for Anders to spin a delusional story of granduer where he busted into Kirkwall's Circle wearing his Gray Warden armor and conscripted Karl out from under the First Enchanter's nose, a story ended nicely with them spending the rest of their days happily with the Wardens and free. How ridiculous.

There was only one reason he'd have moved on.]

Karl...he's dead, isn't he? Dead or worse. The letters he'd sent me about Kirkwall's circle, I didn't think- [He placed a hand to his head and fought off the urge to be sick.

Hawke was surely a nice person, all things considered, this wasn't his fault. Anders wouldn't snap at him again. He just didn't think he could face him right now either. If he wasn't with Karl in his future, then that meant Anders had failed him horribly.]

Dead, not worse.

[He can't in good conscience tell Anders the full breadth of it, how Karl had been made Tranquil, how Anders had somehow reestablished his connection to the fade only to have the man beg to kill him. He's already watched the blond grieve over it before, there's no point in adding to it now.]

I'm so sorry.

[He wants to hold Anders, knowing the pain of loss all too keenly. His sister, his mother, Fenris...

He settles for placing a tentative hand on Anders' shoulder.]

I see. [He'd known already, but it was still something else to hear it said. There was still a small mercy in the fact it wasn't 'worse.'

His thoughts were a jumble, but one thing he knew was that he couldn't stay here in this hallway, looking at a man who'd become far more complicated in only a few words. He doesn't move from the hand on his shoulder, instead he tries to piece together a small smile that takes a lot more effort than it would normally. It was an attempt at his usual facade, but it took too much to force.]

Thank you for finally telling me. It makes a little more sense now. You, I mean.

[His hand goes to his hair and he steps away from Hawke's touch.]

I-ah...I should find Jon he's surely wondering where I've gone, we should get back... [He nods as though his prattling made sense.]

I'm sorry. I'll see you, Hawke.

[When he thought he could manage it without feeling that clawing in his throat.]

Edited 2016-06-24 20:57 (UTC)

Yes. Of course.

[It's all he can manage to say to Anders' retreating back. He feels chewed up and spit out, as if he'd just fought a long and arduous battle rather than have a conversation.

If this is what it's going to be like, he's not certain how long he can stomach being around Anders, and that alone makes him feel just a bit ill.]

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006 - action/voice; i came in like troy walking in with pizza

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Action; wrap!