OPEN: Cloudreach Event

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone at Skyhold
WHAT: Cloudreach showers bring weird shit.
WHEN: Cloudreach 15 onward
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: For information about the illness, its effects, and its cure, please make sure to also read the OOC Post.

This high in the mountains, snowstorms are to be expected. But this one is large and lingering, hanging over the valley and the fortress for days. In Skyhold, with its eternal spring, the snow becomes rain before it hits the ground, leaving inhabitants and visitors to wade through puddles and mud in the courtyards. In the valley, snow and ice accumulate under cloud cover—and worse, when the clouds finally thin, a whole winter's accumulation of snow begins to melt in the sunlight.

Within a day, the ground is sodden and mucky enough to give the survivors of the Fallow Mire (or Ferelden in general) unpleasant flashbacks, and those who live in tents are issued additional hastily-constructed wooden pallets to raise their floors above the mud. It is worse outside the fortress: streams and rivers have overflowed their banks, rapids run twice as fast as normal, and flash flooding has made even road travel treacherous.

On Cloudreach 17 a mudslide buries the pass into Skyhold from the west, and on the 19th a sheet of snow loosened from a mountainside collapses into the shadowed passage from the east. An Inquisition supply caravan is caught in the latter, scattering wagons and goods across the hillside and leaving a dozen people and horses in need of rescue and medical care.

Healers may find themselves stretched thin, as in addition to the usual rash of blisters and sniffles that come from days of rain and flooding, an illness begins to sweep through Skyhold's ranks from around the 16th onward. It's marked first by climbing fever, then by flashes at the edges of vision—green light and jagged formations that aren't there, beings of light and shadow gathering around people or clustering in corners—and distant voices, coherent for brief moments if you're quiet and still and not trying too hard to listen.

Comments

[metaari]

Whiny Man Child (for Merrick)

[ Metaari doesn't get sick. This isn't a thing that happens to him. The last time he was sick he was fourteen and had the worst hangover of his life, so that doesn't even really count. But here they are, just freshly returned from their journey out, and bam: fever.

This is fucking stupid.

He whines and rolls over onto his back with a groan, his eyes closed. ]

'm tellin' you, 'm fine.

[ Says the slurred words. ]

[dalishious]

Shut up.

[ The most gentle nursemaid, right here.

He's been working on making a poultice, taking it upon himself since the healers are so backed up right now. Every Dalish knows the healing basics, and he can at least try to bring down the fever this way.

He rolls it up tight and wets it with a kettle full of hot water. He unbuttons Metaari's shirt and places it over his chest. ]

[metaari]

[ He lifts a hand and feebly tries to bat Merrick away but finds that holding it in the air for too long is exhausting so he just lets it drop back down to the bedding beneath him.

Something resembling a smirk crosses his features and Metaari turns his head slightly to gaze up at him. ]

'f you wanted to get m'shirt off, y'could've just asked.

[ Now is not the time. ]

[dalishious]

Don't make me hit you in your weakened state.

[ Merrick is so anxious his hands are shaking, but he ignores it by keeping himself busy. Metaari is strong, he tells himself. He can fight this. It'll be fine. He takes a dampened cloth and gently dabs Metaari's face with it. ]

[metaari]

[ His face instinctively turns toward the gentle touch, his eyes falling closed again as he lets out a faint sigh. It's so relaxing and feels like it helps--not that he needs help, of course. Because he's not sick. ]

You've got such a gentle touch.

[ The words are quiet, almost far away. ]

Wouldn't think it.

[dalishious]

Shh.

[ Merrick doesn't like the way Metaari's voice sounds, and he frowns, his throat clenching tight. He continues the touch, though, gently moving the cloth over Metaari's face then up around his horns.

He pauses only to wet the cloth again, trying to keep it cool. Anything to help soothe the fever that's making Metaari's skin so hot beneath his fingers. ]

[metaari]

[ His hand comes up so that he can wrap his fingers around Merrick's wrist, holding on to it loosely. He pulls it toward his face and lets his lips press against the palm with a faint sigh. ]

Y've always been too good to me, Shavera.

[ He's still quiet, though when his eyes open he isn't looking at Merrick so much as he is beyond him. ]

How'd I get so lucky, I wonder...

[dalishious]

[ Shavera? Who the fuck is that?

Is that who Metaari has been speaking to him this whole time? His heart clenches painfully, but this isn't about him right now. He lets his palm rest against Metaari's cheek, since that seems to be calming him. ]

Just...try to rest.

[metaari]

[ The hand shifts and rests against the one on his cheek, his breathing evening out as he relaxes. It's familiar and comfortable and he's feeling like maybe this whole resting thing isn't so bad. ]

Mm. Definitely lucky...

[ His eyes close again and he seems to almost drift off. ]

Ar lath ma.

[ A faint chuckle. ]

How was my pronunciation that time? I've been practicing...

[dalishious]

[ The air in the healing tent is suddenly stifling, and Merrick feels like can't breathe because his chest hurts too much, why does his chest hurt? He's dizzy, too, like he's falling, like the ground is suddenly far beneath him, and it's all very reminiscent. I feels like on the rooftop with Ellana but worse, so much worse, because he'd always known that had been a silly little boy's crush, but this...

He needs to leave. His entire body aches with it. He has to hit something, has to scream, anything to get away from this. It hurts so much, help, stop this, make this stop-- ]

It--it's fine.

[metaari]

Good.

[ He lets out a faint groan and tries to open his eyes again. Overlaid on the face above him he sees her, smiling and gentle, and he lifts his hand as well as he can to lightly touch the vallaslin. ]

Maker, I feel like shit. Who was this again? The... healing one, right. Sy...leth. Syla. Sy... Sy...

[dalishious]

[ Merrick starts to feel sick, too. Like he's going to throw up. Creators, he's going to throw up. ]

Sylaise. [ His voice sounds strange to his own ears, higher. ]

[metaari]

Right.

[ His voice is quieter now, the closer he gets to sleep, and his grip on Merrick's wrist loosens and falls back to the bed again. ]

I'll see you when I wake up, yeah?

[dalishious]

Yeah. Sleep. [ Please sleep.

Once Metaari is out Merrick staggers to his feet, then tears through the tent as fast as possible, nearly knocking over patients and healers alike on his way outside. The second he's out he falls to his knees and vomits painfully into the grass.

Hurts. Hurts so much. Make it stop. ]