how to drag a bird in five easy steps.

[ofkirkwall]

Who: Marian Hawke & Thedas' Greatest Hits.
Broadcast: N/A
Action: Three Twins medbay, later Caprine.
When: Backdated to late 9/8, some hours after Totally Fun Dragon Outing.

[ In truth she doesn't want to wake, she wants to sleep for weeks or months. Avoid the deep ache in her bones, the bile rising in her throat, the disgust that twists her insides into knots. That way she doesn't have to look at them then, doesn't have to look at him, and watch them recoil from her like some sort of thing - some sort of monster. But she does wake slowly, muscles protesting at even the slightest movement, jolts of agony dancing across her every nerve. Curling in on herself she clutches the sheets around her, hoping to shut the world out for at least a moment longer.

Good job Marian, you blew it. Just had to go and screw everything up, didn't you? Couldn't be happy with being bloody happy!

An ugly pit coils in her belly making her pull her sheets around herself some more, eyes clamping closed tighter. The smell of blood sharp in her nose, the taste of cooper lingering on her tongue. Reminds that cling to her like a wet blanket, that refuse to let her forget her own idiocy. If she hadn't rushed in like she had, if she hadn't stumbled and allowed herself to get caught. It'd be nice if they could all pretend nothing happened. Everyone going back to how things were when no one knew about Marian Hawke's dirty little secret or how much of a giant hypocrite she is. The woman that who damns blood magic and the very people who practice it a bloody blood mage herself. Maker's balls it is so painfully ironic.

It'd be nice really, but there is no going back now, no way to run. All there is to do now is watch her approval ratings plumett into the red. No way she's getting that special Wicked Grace scene now. ]

Comments

[ofkirkwall]

You know... I almost want to shake you for sounding so much like Father.

[ She can hear him if she tries, if she closes her eyes hard enough. As if he was sitting right there next to her, smoothing her hair with his hand, mouth curved into that gentle smile. It's bittersweet but leaves her feeling a little calmer, together, not lost to the misery weighing heavy on her shoulders. ]

You're too bloody good, I don't know they stand it.

[ Supportive regardless what she decides to do, regardless of what terrible choices she may or may not make. Honestly, how can he exist? If their positions were swapped... she can't truthfully say she'd do the same. She isn't that good of a person, not so easy to understand or forgive. A good thing then, that their positions are as they are, that she is the one with the poor judgement.

She exhales, bringing her hand up to wipe the tears from her eyes. ]

I thought you might hate me too.

[ A laugh, short, half muffled by her hand. She says more than she wants with those words alone, by the way her tone becomes almost pained. In truth she thought all of them would hate her, turn their backs and refuse to be near her. ]

Not sure about the potions, that's like asking me to stop drinking─ [ Not gonna happen. ] But the blood magic? That I don't want to use again. It makes me feel sick and angry. I don't regret learning it, I don't regret saving Carver's life, but I hate it. I hate the mages who use it to hurt people, who think it's the only option left to them. [ She thinks of the Wardens, of Clarel, and her blood starts to boil. ] Hypocritical of me, I know.

[wolfehawke]

[He doesn't know what to say to her telling him he sounds like Malcolm. Once long ago he might have been proud, seen it as a victory. Or perhaps he'd still have been frustrated, for as much as Carver whines about being in his shadow, Wolfe in turn has always felt his father blotted out the sun with his stature. For now he's just conflicted, and leaves it at that. This isn't about him.]

I'm not going to hate you for making hard choices, sister-mine. Choices I might have made too, in your place. I thought about it too much to condemn you for action.

[It's how she said 'hate me too' that gets him, though. That gives credence to his worry that Fenris had already had his say and acted true to assumed form.]

I used to hate them too, thought they were weak, but you know... Anders, despite his own hatred - or Vengeances' hatred, really - of blood magic, made me understand. It's not weakness, it's just desperation brought on by a world that hates mages. We don't have many options if we want to be free and that's such an obvious one...

[He lets out a long breath.]

The mages who use it to gather power for themselves, like Magisters of Tevinter, those I still hate, but the ones driven to in a desperate bid to survive, or to save those they love. Like you. Like father, or Merrill. I can't hate that. It doesn't come from a place of cruelty or hatred, it comes from the opposite and it's not the mage's fault for being forced into a corner. You and I both know the Chantry doesn't leave many other options. Or Corypheus, for that matter.

[He chuckles in a self deprecating way.]

Sorry, I didn't mean to lecture. I just meant that... well, you don't need to use it. You're strong enough on your own. And people here don't have the same attitudes about magic as they do at home.

[He glances at her.]

Aside from Fenris, I'd guess. Did he say anything to you?