It doesn't start out too poorly. He's dealt with the spread of illness before, especially after first freeze hit Kirkwall when the poor in Darktown suffered the most. That doesn't make this easier as it spreads, though. He's up at all hours, driven by himself and Justice both, and meals are all too easily forgotten as he works.
By day three he's exhausted. Anders hasn't slept much at all and Justice is on edge because they can see so many demons and not take a single one of them on. The running commentary Justice has about everything - frailty of flesh, wastes of time, the utter waste of taking a few moments to feed a cat when people are suffering - is not helping Anders at all. At least he can still heal, and doing that seems to quiet the spirit for a few short moments. It's a welcome break.
Dreams
Short naps are all he's grabbing, but most are not pleasant. Some are simple - heavy metal on wrists and ankles, one small cot in a small cell with a small mostly-blocked window, a Chant of Light the only accompaniment until a cat starts threading between legs and the dreamer sobs. Others are complex, rushing sensations with swimming, running, always underlain with fear and pain, flashes of faces half-seen, always moving forward because throughout the dream is the knowledge that if you stop, you die.
Some have a song running through them, impossibly beautiful and beckoning. The nicest are flashes of sensations, stolen kisses and intimate touches, filled with the need for haste because it will all be taken away, all gone, all too soon, and they end with a sunburst flare on a pale forehead.
Dragons, death, destruction, darkness, they're everywhere, but once, just once, it's pushed back by a quiet lullaby in a woman's voice that's clearly singing in Anders.
Losing Control - Closed to Adelaide
When the exhaustion goes too far, Anders slips. One moment he's semi-awake, and the next he's no longer in control and it's Justice striding through the tent and, perhaps surprisingly, assisting. There is no direct adversary to fight. The patients are the battleground. The cause, every cause, will be furthered by assisting.
This does not mean he is friendly. He has never been friendly. There is progress to make, and that is all that is important. Trying to be diplomatic rather than cold is a waste of time and effort.
Wildcard?
[Poke me on plurk, toss something up, Anders is generally in the vicinity of the healing tents for 95% of this.]
no subject
It doesn't start out too poorly. He's dealt with the spread of illness before, especially after first freeze hit Kirkwall when the poor in Darktown suffered the most. That doesn't make this easier as it spreads, though. He's up at all hours, driven by himself and Justice both, and meals are all too easily forgotten as he works.
By day three he's exhausted. Anders hasn't slept much at all and Justice is on edge because they can see so many demons and not take a single one of them on. The running commentary Justice has about everything - frailty of flesh, wastes of time, the utter waste of taking a few moments to feed a cat when people are suffering - is not helping Anders at all. At least he can still heal, and doing that seems to quiet the spirit for a few short moments. It's a welcome break.
Dreams
Short naps are all he's grabbing, but most are not pleasant. Some are simple - heavy metal on wrists and ankles, one small cot in a small cell with a small mostly-blocked window, a Chant of Light the only accompaniment until a cat starts threading between legs and the dreamer sobs. Others are complex, rushing sensations with swimming, running, always underlain with fear and pain, flashes of faces half-seen, always moving forward because throughout the dream is the knowledge that if you stop, you die.
Some have a song running through them, impossibly beautiful and beckoning. The nicest are flashes of sensations, stolen kisses and intimate touches, filled with the need for haste because it will all be taken away, all gone, all too soon, and they end with a sunburst flare on a pale forehead.
Dragons, death, destruction, darkness, they're everywhere, but once, just once, it's pushed back by a quiet lullaby in a woman's voice that's clearly singing in Anders.
Losing Control - Closed to Adelaide
When the exhaustion goes too far, Anders slips. One moment he's semi-awake, and the next he's no longer in control and it's Justice striding through the tent and, perhaps surprisingly, assisting. There is no direct adversary to fight. The patients are the battleground. The cause, every cause, will be furthered by assisting.
This does not mean he is friendly. He has never been friendly. There is progress to make, and that is all that is important. Trying to be diplomatic rather than cold is a waste of time and effort.
Wildcard?
[Poke me on plurk, toss something up, Anders is generally in the vicinity of the healing tents for 95% of this.]