faderift | [OPEN] Running with my roots pulled up

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[OPEN] Running with my roots pulled up

WHO: Bruce ~~Banner~~ and whoever else
WHAT: Rumors abound. Bruce is good at pretending he can't hear anything. A dracolisk makes everyone's life hell.
WHEN: Across Justinian
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Belated open log thing for the remainder of June; prompts and such are under the cut. Starting in brackets but feel free to switch to prose and I will follow. If you want specific prompts/starters, let me know @

knightblazer or PM this journal!

one. trouble on four hooves. (stables)

[It's not exactly the first time the horsemaster is on his case and it probably won't be the last as well, if the current situation is to go by it.

Horsemaster Dennet wasn't exactly thrilled with the dracolisk that had decided to trail all the way back here with him (muttering along the lines of 'as if one of them wasn't enough'), but the one that Bruce... was stuck with had a tendency for more collateral damage. Nothing major, at least, but after breaking three gates and four fences in its apparent nightly ritual of getting out of the stables there were some lines that needed to be drawn. Thus, this current situation.

The hammer in his hand pounds loudly against the nails as Bruce does his best fixing up the damage the dracolisk had caused in the last few nights. The sleeves of his threadbare shirts are rolled up, for even with the chill here pounding away like this still made him sweat quite a bit, especially as he continued to toil away the hours.

Beside him the dracolisk chewed delicately on some hay, clearly much calmer and less prone to violence now that its human was around.]

two. not quite back to business (healing tents, courtyard)

[It was impossible to ignore the rumors, even if they weren't that hotly circulated, for better or for worse. But still the damage had been done and it would be a lie if he said that things were the same as before.

Nothing was the same as it used to be. After the fallout with Adelaide things didn't really quite look up. Patients who once came to him for help now avoided his gaze entirely and went to others, and the new ones who came in now looked at him with wariness, with all the suspicion that frustrated Bruce more than anything else. This was one of the reasons why he hid his magic away, why he stuck to herbs and what he could do with nothing but his head and his own two hands. He was here to help and he didn't need his magic to do it. It wasn't worth any of this.

(But of course, he deserved it. He knows that. He deserves every bit of this.)

Still, regardless of everything, he came here to do a job and despite all that had happened, there were always going to be people who needed help. So Bruce does the best he can, going around the courtyard to treat whoever was willing to accept his help and aiding anybody who came to his tent while he was in there.]

three. midnight mulling (battlements)

[The battlements had, in a way, become something of a sanctuary to him now. When the night gets this dark and most of Skyhold is asleep, the biting chill of the cold and the silence of the night comforts him well.

On most other nights he'd have the excuse of potion brewing to be up here but tonight that desire isn't there. He sits on the floor, back against one of the walls as he glances out to the mountains that surround them, the sky above that twinkle with countless stars. When everything feels so vast and overwhelming its easy enough to lose himself into the sight, to let them take him away from the chaos of his mind and his soul. To find that momentary peace within himself again, when every part of him rages for something else otherwise.]

wildcard.

[Feel free to throw in your own prompt or PM/contact me to plot out stuff!]

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[Unconsciously Bruce curls his hands into fists when spirits are mentioned. Spirits are always... well. They're never a comfortable topic for him for many reasons, many of which he'll never speak about. But the issue always lurks in his mind, silent and unspoken.]

Most mages don't understand them either. [The closest, he supposed, would be Solas. But that aside...

An uncomfortable expression crosses his face. Bruce isn't going to lie and say he's not thought of the possibility of something potentially dangerous coming out of these Rifts - something worse than just spirits and demons. In fact, it seems all too plausible considering everything that's happened.]

Then let's just hope that these items never fall to the wrong hands.

[Not the best thing, but its the best response he can give.]

Nothing. [Pause.] Or just--people, I guess.

[Bruce shrugs, the gesture almost helpless.]

I simply try to focus on the here and now - the tangible things, things you and I can try to change. We're all fallible, but there's always been a strength in numbers.

[He knows its not the response Cassandra hopes, but these words at least sound better that the bitter, twisted thoughts that lurk at the back of his mind, the reality that Bruce can't believe in anything. There's nothing for him to believe, not to a person who has nothing and is actually nothing in truth. He's just a ghost of a man pretending to be somebody who he can never be.]

There are more people without magic than then are with. Alienating them won't do any of us favors - if we are to cooperate, we must understand each other.

[And if that means discarding his magic and living a life without it, then Bruce is happy to do so. Yes, there will always be the ignorant and the fearful. But one side has to be the better person, and Bruce thinks the mages will benefit best from being that better person. Perhaps that thought is too optimistic, but these are dark days, and with somebody like Corypheus running around its more imperative than ever that mages have to prove themselves to be more than what their magic makes them.

Still, he does sort of... appreciate the apparent practicality that Vivienne is showing, at least at this point. To the question he simply does a bit of a shrug, hands rubbing up his arms from wrist to elbow as he replies.] It'd be a lie to say no, but its nothing I haven't gone through before. I'll manage.

[??? What is even going on]

I--what?

[How did anything he said translate to that??]

People.

[ He doesn't have to tell her what a fragile thing that is. The Maker - even though the Maker is gone, Cassandra can still believe that he is watching, that he has a plan and that her faith in him will be rewarded.

People are fallible, and selfish, and let themselves and others down every day. She gazes at him, wondering how much he believes what he says. ]

It is something, to believe in one's own strength. In our ability to make a difference. [ She raises an eyebrow, still curious. Still trying to understand him. ] Is that why you are here, with the Inquisition? To try to change things?

[A small laugh from Bruce, more bemused than anything else.] I wouldn't dare to think myself to be able to change anything, honestly.

[And yeah, that's certainly something after what after what he had just said earlier, but. The average person could probably stand with it. Bruce... he doesn't matter. Not when he's less than human.]

I just try to help however I can. [He shrugs once again.] It's all I've ever wanted to do.

[Even back then, even before... everything.]

[To some extent, Vivienne does feel that mages ought to be the better people. She encourages it where she might. But there are some among their numbers, like that Anders and Fiona, who instigated a conflict that mages could ill-afford. They've ever been petty and spiteful with others even within the Circles. Ice walls blocking out others from using the hall because of some perceived slight by one fraternity over another. Taking the childish bickering to the outside has created a backlash that few would wish for. Alas, most of them could have seen it being an obvious result if they'd just opened their eyes.]

Unfortunately, having a mage among us known to have blown up a Chantry full of innocents does little to aid the cause of cooperation and understanding.

[There is a little flick of her hand; Vivienne doesn't care to waste time giving the terrorist thought or consideration more than necessity demands.]

If you have any further problems, do let me know. I'll do what I can to ensure you are treated with fairness and respect.

[She can remain cranky with him, but she'll not have him bullied for having magic.]

[A wry smile crosses Bruce's face at that - on that particular point, he can easily agree with her. For all of his good intentions, what Anders did back in Kirkwall back then had hardly helped the mages despite his claims. If anything, it only made the situation worse.

He might have said something to that extent, perhaps, but its not like it'll be of any good anyway. So Bruce drops that subject and lets the conversation move on.]

I appreciate the offer, madam. [A small incline of his head. Bruce is pretty sure he won't ask for it - he's gone through worse things than this, after all. But he knows better than to try and argue against her either.] And I thank you for your understanding.

And yet still necessary on the battlefield, or at least the aftermath of one. Surely you've been out there, seen the damage some of these battles inflict.

[Once there had been a girl in Lothering, a girl who had admired the feathers on her robes as Morrigan had stood apart from Jonas and Alistair after arguing with them. Her family had been packing still - sometimes she can scarcely believe she remembers such a small thing so very well - and she had plucked a feather from her shoulder to give to her, with a warning that darker days were yet to come. Now she wonders what became of that girl. Did her family even make it out before the Blight swallowed Lothering or was her fate like so many others?

She doesn't know what to do with praise, especially not with this, and she stares with a face more open than it normally is; there's no clever arch expression, no composed cool look, no joke that she understands and keeps to herself until the opportune moment. Her smile is small, almost hidden by shadow but it's there.]

Tis good of you to say so. [So many others would disagree. Her own heart collects doubts, piles them up to weigh them on the scales against her guilt, her love, her hurts, what she did and why and what she must do and all the messy awful terrible things from her own childhood.] Is that what drove you to heal? Surely you must have been tempted to use your magic? I travelled with a powerful healer once, true, she was possessed by a spirit of Faith not unlike that abomination amidst the ranks, what little healing I know in spells, I have used for Kieran. My own lies in herbalism and a touch.

Calma, calma. [The words slip out without Araceli really thinking about them; Bruce is a healer but he's a man, a bigger man than her, and still mostly a stranger; she's fast, agile, she's sure she'll be faster than him but well, a girl learns to be wary sometimes.]

There are things that I can accept about home but...some things I was told about spirits, that they always watch? Or that they press very close where there have been lots of deaths and then possess the corpse? It makes me uneasy. [Dead should be dead, and she doesn't really like the notion of being watched. She doesn't really like the notion of their Fade either anymore, not after it took Korrin, when a demon wore Araceli's face and spoke with her voice.

Araceli had been called demon to her face as well once. She'd been able to joke about it almost, still with an edge to it but now? Now she doesn't know if she can.]

That just puts us down the road of philosophers though - are there such things as the wrong hands or the right hands, and all those other sorts of questions that come with them. I always liked to think that money was better off in my hands where I could spend it to buy food for everyone that lived in my building but my hands broke into the homes of the rich and stole things so… [Instead of finishing what she's saying, she holds her hands out, palms up, raising and lowering them as if weighing some invisible weight in each.]

Edited 2016-07-05 21:28 (UTC)

You are certainly succeeding in that.

[ She says it with a certain emphasis, stressing the truth of it. Cassandra doesn't give compliments lightly, and she suspects that Bruce is the type to be singularly resistant to accepting them. ]

You are a skilled healer, Bruce. I have heard nothing but praise from your colleagues. And besides, I have seen for myself both your expertise and your talent with difficult patients.

[ She smiles, gently, willing to poke at herself a bit. ]

You have done good work, and you should be proud of it.

[ The but hangs in the air, unsaid. Is it enough for him? Is he actually satisfied with his life, or is he still hiding from something else? His destiny, perhaps. His potential to be more. ]

[The mention of the spirit healer has Bruce pausing yet again. They're always a hard topic - harder now, considering Anders and what he did. It's not a lie that spirit healers were just a few bad days away from turning into the very thing that the Chantry fears, as is the case with Anders. But still, Bruce can't help but have a sense of envy towards them - he's the utter opposite of what they are, after all. The only thing he can ever do is to destroy with his powers. Its why he doesn't use them.]

Magic has already caused so much destruction - even that which tries to help usually ends up hurting instead. [Kirkwall being one famous example.] It's too unreliable, too volatile, and as much as we try to control it its never really in our control. The safer option is to not depend on it at all.

[Though with that said... Bruce sighs and rubs his hands, fingers idly massaging his bony wrists.] I've had years to wean myself off the conditioning; I only ever allow myself to use it in times of dire emergency. [Such as that one time with Zevran, or back in the Fade when Adelaide was in danger. It's only when every other option is exhausted then does he let himself do it.]

[He doesn't really mean it - and he doesn't quite understand what she means - but the tone and her patience helps nonetheless. He relaxes after a beat, exhaling loudly, one hand absently rubbing the side of his jaw.]

It makes most people uneasy, and we've had our entire lives to get used to it. [Including Bruce himself - though not for usual reasons. His relationship with spirits isn't exactly good, considering his condition. But that's neither here nor there right now.] So I don't blame you for thinking that.

[If anything, this just goes to show exactly how little control anybody ever has over the Fade and what it brings - so many Ages have passed and there is still so little known of the Fade. Bruce is pretty sure they'll never fully understand it - and that lack of knowledge is what will be their downfall eventually. The unknown always finds a way to strike when its least expected.

He's silent for a moment longer as he hears her continue to speak, not quite able to think of the best things to say. A lot of what he says comes from an experience that few others have, if not none, so he knows his words aren't really the best to go with. But still, she deserves something - and Bruce will try, at least.]

Well, for starters, let's just keep it to us and Corypheus. [A wry smile as he says that.] They've got enough of an advantage as it is.

[Bruce is more than familiar with the heat of a battlefield; he's traveled across many of them during his time before the Inquisition. The sight of them is no stranger to him, by now - though it never gets easier.]

That doesn't mean I should have a mount of my own. I can travel just as well on foot.

[A compliment from the Right Hand herself is not something Bruce ever expects himself to get, especially with recent events. It shows on his face briefly, a flash of surprise that he quickly covers up with a frown as he rubs the side of his face in an unconscious gesture.]

I, ah... thank you, I suppose. [Pause.] But you give too much credit. I'm just one person in the end, and there's only so much I can do.

[Compared to other people like Adelaide or Cassandra herself or most of the Inquisition, he really has nothing much to show.]

[When Anders had so neatly driven such divisions between tentative friendships being formed, when he had wished to learn shapeshifting from her when she is sure he would have used it to hide when he is the sort of mage that makes life difficult for all the rest who have never known Circles, for her son who has barely known life? Well he will never be anything but the abomination. A flippant little fool even now from what she's heard over the sending crystals.]

Magic has done no such thing. Men with agendas have done that starting with the Tevinter Imperium when they set a tone by which each one of us has ever been measured against; how many believe even the simplest mage to be a maleficar? The Circles were places of subjugation where mages were ruled by the Chantry and by Templars, neither of whom understand magic. They sought to control that which they do not understand, to have mages live in fear. Small wonder so many Circle mages fall prey to the things that prowl the Fade. [Magic was a gift, not from the Maker the way others believed but it was power. Raw and simple, and Morrigan's sang in her bones; changing her shape is a particular skill that she's worked hard on all her life so it's no small wonder that she revels in it. Yet it isn't exactly anger in her voice. Yes, she scoffs at him, she tuts, but she's no longer a girl. It's disbelief that colours her words more than anything.]

That sounds more like a Templar speaking of lyrium than a mage speaking of magic.

[Bruce was kind to her, and so long as he doesn't go casting aspersions on her personal life, she finds it very hard to dislike people once she gets to know them. Smiling, she sets one hand one his shoulder for a moment, squeezing just for a second before it's got. She's handsy, it's a habit, but there are plenty of people here who really aren't.]

We have the sea but the sea is around us, it's a constant. And the moon, and that is another constant. They're forces, not things that can hurt us like that. It was why I was glad to meet a real doctor so soon since - and don't laugh, this might sound so silly, I realise - but I don't want to be changed? A doctor is going to fix things the proper way. But spirit healers? That...no. They can go help everyone else. They can help all the people I love here but not me. [If her hand at times is too much for her when she's better about it now that she's finally closed a rift without anything terrible happening in the aftermath, she can't really put into words what else she's afraid of beyond not being the way the sea made her, the way her mother and father made her and raised her. Which probably sounds like a stupid sort of thing but it sits in her throat sometimes and tries to choke her at very odd moments so the point still stands.]

At least none of his forces have beaten us to a rift when anyone has arrived yet. We've been fortunate there, and if he knew about other worlds, he might get ideas.

Then what would you have done with this beast? [Too bad you're its owner now suck it up and deal.] If the decision were in your hands.

...

[ This was not smooth flirting it was awkward and weird and Kaisa did not like things being awkward and weird. Especially her flirting. ]

So...are we having dinner, then?

Isn't it the same thing? Lyrium, magic - we've all come to depend on it, one way or another.

[As much as magic is feared people somehow can't imagine a life without it - the necessity it brings is just as ingrained as the fear. It's a strange dichotomy, and one that many don't dwell upon. Bruce was the same too, until the status quo changed for him.]

If we still don't understand magic and the Fade after spending so many Ages on it, then how can anybody ever expect to control it properly? [Honestly, he doesn't blame the Chantry and the Circles for what they did - the idea had always been noble, but time always had a way of eroding even the best of intentions.] Perhaps time is what is needed, but at this stage--maybe we're just not ready for it. [For magic.]

[The touch is unexpected, but Bruce takes it in stride. He only tenses for a brief moment before making himself relax, and he sends a tiny smile towards Araceli, giving a nod of understanding to her words.]

No, it's not silly. I can understand what you mean. [Magic was--is--unnatural. Even the common folk here recoil at the sight of such unnatural forces at work, let alone people who weren't even from around here, where magic either didn't exist or wasn't like this. He can only imagine how that must be like.] At the very least you're nicer about it than most. People will appreciate that.

[He glances down to his hands, staring at the hammer that he's still holding.]

It'd be good if it stays that way. I wouldn't wish anybody to have their first knowledge of Thedas to be about Corypheus.

In any other circumstance, release it back to the wild. [But they both know how well that turned out.] ...right now its just trying to see what is the best solution.

[Why is she even asking him that question what is going on--

Is this what flirting is like, he has no fucking clue. But he doesn't want to be rude and say 'no'...]

...if you want?

[HE'S SO CONFUSED, BUT HE CAN COOK IF SHE WANTS FOOD SO... OKAY??

~~help~~]

Hardly. The Templars are fools to allow themselves to be bound in such a way. Magic was here long before men - can you imagine what Arlathan truly was? I have been to the ruins of the ancient elves, I have seen the cracked open bones stripped clean of the marrow. Or would you have us be as the Qunari?

[As much as she admired Sten as a singular entity, she would fight to the very death if it came to it should the invasion happen in her lifetime, if she could not find a place to hide and wait it out safely, if the Crossroads were not an option for herself and her son. His strength, his resolve, his will, those were all a credit. But the goals of the Qun? Morrigan would have no part in that, not now, not ever.] There is a way to cut yourself off, if you are so entirely - repelled? Is that the word? - by your nature. [Although that's probably off the table entirely now.

But to be a fly on the wall (or a swarm, to be a singular fly is quite impossible) should the Tranquil discussion ever be raised in a Council session…]

When the Circles seek to wipe out so many teachings, how can there ever be understanding? How much do you think we have lost even since the founding of them? My own magic was not taught within the Circles, the loss of even a single Dalish clan will result in the loss of irreplaceable knowledge. [What she has salvaged has broadened her own mind immeasurably and hers was not narrow when it came to magic in the first place but putting magic into neat little categories never works, not when something is raw, when something shouldn't be understood but simply lived, experienced, felt throughout the whole of a person.] If what this little Mage Council is seeking to accomplish does not hold when all this is at an end, Kirkwall will seek to restrict ever further, a tight little noose for even the unborn.

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[OPEN] Running with my roots pulled up

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