Anders (
apurrstate) wrote in
driftfleet2017-12-19 11:13 pm
Entry tags:
[Closed] You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve
Who: Anders, Riona and Justice
Then Anders and Wolfe
Broadcast: No
Action: Iskaulit herb garden, then Malum
When: Forward dated to early January
They'd had plenty of time to decompress from the stresses of the red planet and the exploding one before it. Anders had even taken the time to speak to Hermione and Vash about how might be best to talk to Justice about the issue the spirit had long since known Anders was avoiding. And he was avoiding it, as though putting it off would delay it forever. As if he could truly hide something so important from one of his closest friends and a spirit.
One day, either through Atroma's slip or his own, Justice would finally see the massive hole in Anders' soul, the piece of him ripped away by Allen's blade and sent back to the Fade, the chasm that would be damningly Justice-shaped. It was only by the grace of the Maker he hadn't found out yet. The Maker as well as Fenris and Hawke and anyone else who knew keeping their mouths shut.
But they couldn't hold this dance for the rest of their time here...and, in the end, it wasn't fair to either of them. It had nearly been half a year. The lies and dodged questions would have to stop. Anders needed to stop it.
He orchestrated carefully. First, he sent a message to Riona to tell her he'd changed his mind. It was a deeply personal matter, this conversation, but if anyone else had any right to be there, it was their commander and best friend. She could bring a balance to the situation, should...Anders didn't even know what. If Justice grew angry or somehow suddenly violent, it would be the least the mage would deserve. No, it wasn't for that, it was for if Justice went the other way and sunk into the despair he expected would be his friend's eventual reaction. Anders would want to comfort him, to be there for him, but Anders would be the source of distress to begin with. Justice would need someone else.
Justice might not even want to talk to or see him again after this. Anders would deserve that too.
After Riona, it was Hermione to tell her he needed the herb garden, a place with a soothing and natural atmosphere would, hopefully, help. Then Wolfe, just to let him know...in case. In case of anything. At the very least to let his love know where he was disappearing off to and not to search for him.
Last was Justice himself. Just a simple message sent to start off the inevitable avalanche.
"Meet me and Riona in the herb garden on the Iskaulit. I owe you some answers."
He didn't wait for any of the replies, he went to the greenhouse himself and tended the elfroot and embrum and deep mushrooms and various other plants he and Hermione had planted there for their potions. Busy and familiar work to cope with the painful and ever-tightening knot threatening to choke him from his chest.
One way or the other, it would all be over after today.
Then Anders and Wolfe
Broadcast: No
Action: Iskaulit herb garden, then Malum
When: Forward dated to early January
They'd had plenty of time to decompress from the stresses of the red planet and the exploding one before it. Anders had even taken the time to speak to Hermione and Vash about how might be best to talk to Justice about the issue the spirit had long since known Anders was avoiding. And he was avoiding it, as though putting it off would delay it forever. As if he could truly hide something so important from one of his closest friends and a spirit.
One day, either through Atroma's slip or his own, Justice would finally see the massive hole in Anders' soul, the piece of him ripped away by Allen's blade and sent back to the Fade, the chasm that would be damningly Justice-shaped. It was only by the grace of the Maker he hadn't found out yet. The Maker as well as Fenris and Hawke and anyone else who knew keeping their mouths shut.
But they couldn't hold this dance for the rest of their time here...and, in the end, it wasn't fair to either of them. It had nearly been half a year. The lies and dodged questions would have to stop. Anders needed to stop it.
He orchestrated carefully. First, he sent a message to Riona to tell her he'd changed his mind. It was a deeply personal matter, this conversation, but if anyone else had any right to be there, it was their commander and best friend. She could bring a balance to the situation, should...Anders didn't even know what. If Justice grew angry or somehow suddenly violent, it would be the least the mage would deserve. No, it wasn't for that, it was for if Justice went the other way and sunk into the despair he expected would be his friend's eventual reaction. Anders would want to comfort him, to be there for him, but Anders would be the source of distress to begin with. Justice would need someone else.
Justice might not even want to talk to or see him again after this. Anders would deserve that too.
After Riona, it was Hermione to tell her he needed the herb garden, a place with a soothing and natural atmosphere would, hopefully, help. Then Wolfe, just to let him know...in case. In case of anything. At the very least to let his love know where he was disappearing off to and not to search for him.
Last was Justice himself. Just a simple message sent to start off the inevitable avalanche.
"Meet me and Riona in the herb garden on the Iskaulit. I owe you some answers."
He didn't wait for any of the replies, he went to the greenhouse himself and tended the elfroot and embrum and deep mushrooms and various other plants he and Hermione had planted there for their potions. Busy and familiar work to cope with the painful and ever-tightening knot threatening to choke him from his chest.
One way or the other, it would all be over after today.

Let's just say blanket suicidal ideation CW for the rest of this thread
What's the source? His weakness. His willingness to bend his own rules, his willingness to possess a living host. Why did he do that? Why did he think that could ever be morally justified?
Anders was in trouble.
Anders needed him.
The root is his feelings for Anders. All that care, all that warmth, all that desire to see him happy and healthy--that's the door corruption came through.
He doesn't want to believe it. If Anders' friendship is inherently corrupting, is Riona's as well? Is any mortal's? Can he trust himself to remain steadfast, even if it means allowing them to come to harm? Or does justice require that he be friendless, that he uproot it all and forget anything that ever had to do with any of them?
But what if that's not the corruption? What if he's just weak, just another spirit that couldn't handle the mortal realm? He doesn't want to forget them. He doesn't want to--
Or he could just kill himself. Who cares about uprooting corruption if he's dead? Would that be the just thing to do? Anders and his victims in Kirkwall would be avenged. The corruption wouldn't have a chance to spread.
If Anders and Riona weren't there, if he weren't reasonably certain that they still care for him, he might have considered taking his gun and killing himself on the spot. He still would, if he could just make up his mind on whether that's the just thing to do or not--certainly, whether it is or isn't, it would not be just to force them to witness it.
It's like every single negative feeling that can be possibly felt is racing in his heart, each one pulling ahead in turn, neck to neck and fighting to control him. He has no tools to cope with them, no means to mitigate them, and no vocabulary to speak of them. They are consuming him, and he is helpless in the onslaught.
Then Riona says that--'We wanted to protect you'--and anger pulls ahead in the race.
"Do NOT excuse your lies, human!" It may just be the first time he's raised his voice at Riona. They've had heated conversations before, especially after she spared the Architect's life, but this isn't a moral disagreement. The thought that either of them hid something so important from him bites like a dagger in his side, and he had no idea. His senses failed him. Can he trust his senses with anything, knowing that he was so wrong? The sharp pain in his heart and the sudden uncertainty only fuel his anger. "I am not a child! You had no right to make that decision for me! Neither of you did!"
Suddenly he's too still. He has to be moving. He lets go of the metal bar and paces a crooked line up and down the row, his step unsteady as he struggles with his own feelings, trying to control them, but he's never had to control so much at once.
"Mage--" He wheels on Anders, ready to keep yelling, but he can't sustain his anger, not with the despair rolling off of his friend's skin. Yet without the anger, his voice grows thin and weak, and he feels like the slightest breeze could make him dissolve. Despair is leading now. "I made you blow up a Chantry full of innocent worshipers. What about that doesn't sound--"
He can't say the word. His pacing is frantic now, and the leopard that adopted him is concerned enough to peer out of the catnip and mewl.
"Is that why they dislike me so much? Is that why they have wished for nothing but for me to disappear since I arrived?" 'They' includes Fenris, but it's mostly Wolfe. Justice had thought that they just hated spirits. He wishes that it were just that. "Is that why--"
A terribly paranoid thought strikes him. Why did Riona bring her war dog? Had they both expected a fight?
That thought is like ice water in his face.
"Are you afraid of me, too?" The words are out before he can stop them, small and cracked all over. The thought usually wouldn't even occur to him, secure as he is that he can sense these things and that Anders and Riona trust him, but now it's clear his senses have failed, and he doesn't feel like he knows anything about them anymore.
The thought that they might be afraid of him, that they might be prepared for him to turn into a demon and attack them right here and now, makes his eyes burn. His eyes overflow, tears leaving a wet trail on his cheeks, but he is not aware of them. He doesn't even know that he can cry. "Do not answer. I do not wish to know."
If they said yes, he'd truly be beyond hope. For a moment, he understands why mortals sometimes don't want to hear the truth, how it might be too hard to handle--but he's not exactly in a state to appreciate his newfound insight. "I will not be a danger to you or anyone else, one way or another. I swear it."
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Justice's words sting, and she visibly flinches as he yells. 'Human'. 'Mage'. He hasn't called them that since they first met. Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall. There's enough pain and grief here. Anders is hurting, Justice is hurting. So's she, but she's used to hiding it by now. Of course, there's no completely masking this, not with how much raw emotion is being displayed and expressed. But at the very least, she wants to remain as composed as possible. She had her moment before to crumble a little, to apologize and let out her sadness. Now, she draws herself up fully.
"It was our reasoning," she says, firmly and calmly. A moment of temper almost compels her to point out that she even said it didn't excuse them from not telling him sooner, but she bites it back. The last thing she needs to add to this is anger. "Whether or not you agree with it or like it, that's how we felt. We always intended to tell you, that was never up for debate. It was a matter of how and when." Now she earnestly wishes they'd done it sooner, but that doesn't matter now. They did it, it's out there, and they need to focus on this here and now, rather than what-ifs.
Just when she thought her heart couldn't ache more, she sees tears. Honestly, she wondered if he was even capable of crying. To see it now guts her. Her bottom lip quivers for a moment as she sees his tears, but she keeps her face straight, if only barely. "No, I'm not afraid." She answers because he needs to hear it, even if it'll make him more upset right now. But she hopes that later, he can look back and know. "Though I'm very worried."
Kiter whines, low and pitched. His ears droop as he looks back and forth between Anders and Justice. Both of them are in turmoil, and he's not sure which one to go up to and try and comfort, as a dog does. Riona sighs. "If Kiter's this upset, then I have every reason to be worried about how you're doing." Granted, she doesn't really need Kiter to tell her as much, Justice is expressing his emotions far more than she anticipated. But all the same, given how shaken Kiter seems, she's very concerned. "Justice... you're our friend. You always will be. Even if you-" Regret it, or don't want it anymore, but the words are too hard to say. She swallows thickly. "What can we do? Do you want us to stay, or do you want us to leave?" She's aware they robbed him of having a say in the matter by not telling him sooner and hiding it, so now she's putting the decision making back in his hands.
no subject
He'd thought bringing her might help the situation, but now he could only wonder if he'd made it worse by changing his mind last second as he had. He drew her into the fire and pain and if Justice came to regret his words to her, that would be Anders' fault as well. Selfish. Coward. Useless.
"Never." Anders' answer is quiet, but dripping in sincerity. Scared for him? Yes. Scared for himself because of what they'd done? Certainly. Scared of Justice? Not in a hundred years.
But before he could think of the words to add onto it, those tears fell and Anders nearly though he would follow, as hard as he was shaking in response. But the platform of plants nearby was sturdy enough for him to regain himself. What right did he have to crumble when this was his doing? He wouldn't allow himself to be so weak. Someone had deigned to care about him despite everything and Anders had repaid him by tearing apart his life. Again. He had to try.
"Justice..." He should let Riona decide his actions, be her shadow instead of step out on his own in this, he'd already ruined everything on his own, but he spoke and acted by his heart while his mind yelled in screamed in silent fear of what else he might do. He walked slowly, but without hesitation, to Justice's side. He was trapping him between Anders and the table, he knew, but it was the only way he thought he could be allowed close. "Justice, I could never -will never- be afraid of you, no matter what anyone else thinks or says, even you. No matter what happened, I still love you just as much, if not more, than you even know. Even separated, you're part of me and that simple fact is something I don't regret."
A memory played in his mind over and over again, a single instance that had been so strong, Anders could recall it as though it had happened hours ago instead of three years past. The others had slowly splintered off from the group to go their separate ways, most of them heading back to the embers of Kirkwall to see what could be salvaged. Three days after the last had left and all that time spent in complete silence, including from his own mind, Anders had finally snapped and demanded Wolfe say something. They'd argued. Fought worse than they had in year, but in the end, Hawke's arms had wrapped around him despite it all and Anders had felt more in that moment than he had in two weeks. There'd been relief and affection and gratitude and 'thank the Maker, they weren't alone, someone cared, someone finally stayed, someone who would stay by them and support them and their cause' and Anders had known it wasn't just him and his thoughts. In that moment it had been twice the relief, twice, the affection, twice the gratitude that someone didn't think they were a demon that needed to be put down for the good of all.
That moment was what pushed him now, had him pulling Justice into as tight a hug as he would be allowed for as long as he could. Maybe it wasn't the same, maybe he'd be brushed off or shouted down, but if Anders could pay forward that joint feeling then to Justice in even a fraction now, it was worth it.
no subject
"I wish I knew that you were telling the truth." And it feels like a knife in his chest that he doesn't. He'd trust Riona with his life, but she hid something huge from him and he doesn't know how to deal with that. Does this mean he has to doubt all the important things she and Anders say now? He doesn't know how to talk to someone if he doesn't know for sure if they are lying or not. Would she lie about being afraid of him, or about being his friend? Minutes ago, he would taken offense that the question would even be asked, but he also would have said she'd never lie to him about anything important.
It feels like his two main pillars in this unfamiliar world are crumbling around him just as his own security in himself is shattering to pieces, and he doesn't know what to do.
And then Anders approaches. For a moment, Justice feels trapped, with Anders closing in and no means to get away. A part of him wants to run away, to disappear and hide, but Anders is the one he wronged. It's his moral obligation to hear him.
There's the same issue as he has with Riona. He can't trust his own sense of deception, so he can't know for sure that Anders is telling him the truth when he swears that he will never be afraid. But then he drops that bomb--I love you.
Anders knows what that means to Justice. He must, if they shared a mind for so long. Justice doesn't think he'd lie about that, but he can't trust his senses to tell him that he isn't lying, so the declaration feels like spun glass--something beautiful and precious but which could shatter into pieces if he looks at it wrong.
And then Anders pulls him into a hug.
Justice doesn't know what to do. He's never been embraced before, and his feelings are already doing a hundred different things that he can't keep track of.
He thinks he can feel it in Anders' skin. That despair and guilt and regret, but that overwhelming affection as well--is that love?
Justice can't trust his senses. He can't be sure of Anders' honesty. But damn, if he doesn't want to believe it. He decides that, for right now, it doesn't matter if they are lying--about them both being his friends, about neither of them being afraid, about Anders loving him and not regretting having a piece of Justice inside of him--because they are certainly going through the motions of care if that's the case, and he craves that care.
He buries his wet face into Anders' shoulder, clutching his back like a drowning man. He can feel it, that space in Anders' presence that feels like something is missing, that space in Anders' mind that feels like home. The latter had been pleasant before, but now that Justice knows where it comes from...
It's like Anders' arms are the only things holding this physical form together, because that slight but obvious inhumanity has spread to every limb, to where even his fingers look like imitations. It's strange that being restrained in this way would be comforting, but it is. It's not enough, not nearly enough to calm the storm in his head, but he clings to it anyway.
"I love you." The words are muffled against Anders' skin, but he knows that they're true the moment he says them. It's not the exact same as Kristoff's feelings for Aura--there's no burning thrill with every sliver of skin revealed, no possessive need to be the one and only--but the base is the same. The desire to see a person happy, the sense that things are automatically more manageable when they are around, the need to know that they are okay... "And I fear that may be the problem."
The tears haven't stopped falling, but he pulls away. Not enough to break the hug entirely, but enough to put distance between them, to force himself to stand up on his own even if he doesn't know whether he can do it anymore. He glances at Riona, because these words are meant for both of them. "It does not matter what I want. It never did. It was irresponsible and self-indulgent of me to think I could partake in mortal things as I have, and my weakness hurt so many people."
His voice manages to stay steady through most of the sentence, but it breaks at the end. His eyes are back on Anders, on the person he wronged the most. His face is still wet. He still hasn't noticed. "What matters now is that I do what is right and give you and all my other victims justice. That matters more than me. It matters more than my life."
He just... needs to be sure that what he does next really is the right thing. Atroma may be able to bring back mortals, but he doesn't believe it will be able to bring back a creature that dissolves into nothing with no soul left behind. Should he kill himself? Is it possible to atone? The fact that it's such a question is alarming on its own, since he's usually so certain of what is right and wrong. Justice stares down at the floor, struggling to steady himself, but it feels like he'll dissolve right there whether he wants to or not. He wants to be away. He wants to be away so badly that he might just vanish. "I need to think."
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Has she just lost a friend?
A part of her wants to vomit. A part of her wants to scream. A part of her wants to take Justice by the shoulder and shake him, or just beg him to forgive her. She'll do none of these things, though. Instead, she simply nods. "I understand." There's pain and grief, even a hint of anger in her words. "Then I'll remove myself and give you space to think." What else is there to say? As much as she doesn't want to just leave Anders like this, she needs to go. Her composure won't hold forever.
Maybe it's just been too long on her end. Ten years, with nary a word to Anders or Justice in all that time. Perhaps she's just lost touch with Justice's character and can no longer connect with him as well as she once did. Would she have been able to handle this better if she were still her younger self here? It's all speculation, pointless at that. The damage is done, and now she has to accept it, whatever comes to pass.
"Come on, Kiter." The mabari whines in protest, but she gestures for him to follow, and reluctantly he does. She goes up to Anders, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. "We'll talk later," she murmurs.
And it pains her as she looks at Justice, wondering if this is the last time they'll ever speak. His anger and hurt may run deep enough that he might not want to talk to her again. She sniffs, forcing back tears. "I'm sorry the mortal world failed you. I hope..." No, it doesn't matter. She shakes her head. "Good-bye."
With that, she turns and leaves, Kiter following behind.
no subject
But nothing is so simple as to be fixed with one hug and your heart on your sleeve, that was the stuff of fairy tales, not life. Life was this cruel cold scene where Riona is leaving, her pain abundantly clear and Anders nearly whispers an apology as she says her good-by to him. They'd talk later and Anders would be at her feet then, apologetic and remorseful that he'd hurt her like this, all for being too selfish to take the storm alone.
But now they were alone and if there was one thing Anders was confident of in this whole exchange, it was that he knew how Justice's thoughts and reasonings webbed out from each new idea. This one was chillingly familiar, thoughts he'd once thought were just his own now screamed from Justice's tone and subtext and posture and Anders couldn't help but wonder if they'd somehow kept each other in a cycle of nearly stepping off that ledge and then pulling themselves back again for years without ever noticing.
He stood at the edge of the cliffs of the Wounded coast, the orange halo in the distance and frosty glares at camp all reminders of why he might as well step of the edge and into the choppy, rocky, waters below.
He hadn't. He never had, as many times as the thought had come up. It had sprung up throughout his life, but first he had cowardice, then he had friends and family to keep him back, then Hawke and then...maybe Justice had always been there as well, as much the motivation and the prevention as every outside source.
Now it was Ander's turn.
As soon as Riona was gone, Anders hands curled around Justice's upper arms, grip tight to the point of nearly being painful as he searched those achingly blue eyes.]
No. Don't you dare. You don't get to make that choice.
[Again, Hawke runs through him as he speaks, his words a near echo of what Hawke had said to him.]
It hurts, believe me, I understand, but you will live. You want to atone? Grant justice to those you've wronged? You'll live and atone with your continued actions, not by selfishly running away. Help others. Try. Stay by your cause, that's what will make it better.
It won't feel like it, it'll always feel like it's not enough and sometimes you'll wonder if death wasn't the better option, but it's not. Death is a luxury we can't afford. For every person you help, they will have suffered without you, and that's what'll keep you going.
[One of his hands freed it's death-grip and instead gently brushed the tears staining Justice's face.]
Look at me and swear you'll live, even if it's agonizing.
no subject
Is this the last time they see each other, he wonders?
Then she’s gone, and he’s said nothing. He wonders if he will regret that. He thinks he will.
Anders’ hands on his arms forcefully demand his attention. Justice wants to be gone, wants to disappear and rest and think, and he almost vanishes, popping away to someplace where he can be alone. He only barely holds firm to this space, the force of Anders’ will keeping him here for the moment.
Justice doesn’t think he’s ever seen Anders so passionate as when he demands that he live. With that numbness and unreality, Anders’ urgency seems far away, but forceful, like a rope trying to pull him to shore as he drifts out to sea.
It’s the hand on his face that grounds him again. Has he ever been touched on his face before? Anders is brushing something away. Justice realizes belatedly that he’s been crying, and the surprise is just another dull blow to his numbed heart.
“Death is an appropriate sentence for corruption, possession, and wanton murder of the innocent,” Justice says, and even his own voice feels like it belongs to someone else. “But you are the one I wronged. If you do not believe it is the correct sentence in this case, then I will not judge it so.”
It’s only just that a victim have a say in the sentencing, and it’s not like his other victims really have a chance to voice their opinion. There are extenuating circumstances—Anders does care for him and seems to blame himself for some of what happened, and thus this may make his judgment questionable. But it’s not Justice’s place to challenge his victim’s will.
But saying he won’t put himself to death for his crime is far cry from swearing to live. When he speaks next, he speaks with all the clinical numbness that has fallen over him, talking like he’s working out a logic puzzle rather than discussing the possibility of suicide.
“A dead spirit serves its virtue more than a corrupt spirit. If I cannot be trusted to fulfill my purpose, then it is better that I die before I cause harm. All traces of me would dissolve, as would everything I created, and I doubt even Atroma has the means to undo that. Perhaps in this way, I can avoid ever doing any of this.” Justice doesn’t know if that would change anything for Anders, but perhaps it would. Perhaps he can change his fate by simply ending it here with his foreknowledge, and Anders will never be possessed. Perhaps he’d never even be trapped in that situation in the first place. It’s not a stretch for Justice to think that Anders’ friendship with a possessed corpse contributed to the Wardens’ willingness to betray him.
But still, killing himself runs directly counter to Anders’ request that he atone. Anders has a right to justice for the wrongs he’s suffered, and if he will not be satisfied with death, then he deserves something else. Can Justice give him something else, though? Is he capable of fulfilling his virtue, knowing how deep corruption’s roots may run? Would it be better to risk leaving Anders with nothing in the hopes that he will have never suffered injustice at his hands in the first place?
Which is more important? Trying to do better, knowing how catastrophically he may fail? Or removing the possibility of failure entirely, and possibly hurting his victim more in the process?
Justice has a sinking feeling that there may not be a right answer this time. The thought is dizzying, threatening to pierce the numbness again, and he’s forced to hold Anders’ arms to keep himself upright. “I do not know what is best. I need to think.” He does not want to leave Anders with that, though. He doesn’t want Anders wondering if he is dead or simply avoiding him if they don’t see each other. “I will inform you of my decision when I make it.” And Riona, he decides. He wants Riona to know too if he chooses to die. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving her to find out from Anders.
no subject
And still, that demand wasn't what he heard coming from his own mouth.
"Alright." It would be too kind to call it a whisper, more like a rough escape of air without voice moving past this lips. What else could he say? What right did he really have to demand anything of Justice?
Death is an appropriate sentence for corruption, possession, and wanton murder of the innocent. It was true and it was as much his truth as Justice's. If Justice deserved to die for Anders' crimes, then Anders himself deserved far worse.
"Please-" He choked on his own voice as he spoke up again, but stopped and stepped away from his friend to offer the escape he wished. "No, I have no more right to ask anything of you. I won't keep you here any longer."
In case Justice somehow got it in his mind Anders had some right to speak to him anymore, Anders turned away to his plants as though they could really hold any sliver of his attention now.
no subject
Without justice, he is nothing. He has no name, no purpose, no identity. The thought that anyone might care for him independent of that, that anyone might care for him even if he does fail to live up to that integral part of himself, is entirely foreign.
There are so many things he doesn't understand. So many things he still is struggling to process, struggling to grasp. Maybe he never will.
Anders lets him go and turns away. It is both a relief and one last knife in his chest. Justice has a feeling that he's just lost both his friends. Maybe he did a long time ago, and he's only the last to find out.
After all those years in the Fade, working and fighting on his own, Justice still has never felt more lonely than he does in this moment.
"I am sorry, Anders. For everything."
It's not much, but it's all he has right now.
Justice vanishes. He goes far away, somewhere he can be all alone. The leopard starts yowling, pacing up and down the greenhouse like that will make him come back.
He never does.