faderift | [Semi-open] A field trip

Two days before, Anders starts seeking people out around the place, dropping in where he can find them and waggling his eyebrows at them.

"How do you feel about flowers, and are you free in two days' time?"

The day is nice and warm, there are plenty of flowers of different sorts along with a lot of bugs happily buzzing and bumbling their day away. Anders has spread two blankets out - one with a few different snacks, a lot of water, and some chilled tea, and one for the flowers themselves to be gathered up.

[Feel free to put up top levels and poke each other!]

The next day, Anders is hard at work in the room just off the healing rooms, sorting through the flowers. He wants to do a few things to each type, air dry, freeze dry, and use now just to test them thoroughly, but the prep is going to take some work.

Anyone is welcome to drop by and give him a hand.

Sweet trusting soul that Myrobalan is, he thought there could be nothing sinister about a trip to the lands surrounding Kirkwall to gather flowers. It sounded like a wonderful opportunity to get out of the Gallows' damp oppressive shadow for some sunshine--to say nothing of the opportunity for a little field botany in a place that had actual fields.

There couldn't be anything sinister about this--so Anders being the instigator of the whole thing comes as a nasty shock. He only hopes his look of dismay at hearing the man's voice wasn't obvious, and that no one finds it odd he put a hundred yards of distance between himself and the rest of the expedition as soon as they reached their destination.

Storming back to Kirkwall in a righteous huff would be--somehow--letting Anders win, and petty besides. Myr doesn't like being petty.

Neither does he like being taken with the desire to start screaming just by sheer proximity to another person. Doing that would ruin everyone's day. So, instead, he'll pick flowers. Like he came here to do.

He's keeping himself distracted by enticing a nearby nest of bumblebees to his aid. They're big enough he can hear them a good ways off as they make their wobbling way from flower to flower, and take only a little bit of magical nudging to go beyond their usual ambit and alight on plants they wouldn't ordinarily favor. They don't mind having a blind elf wander after them, either, to collect cuttings of whatever they've landed on--especially since he waits until they've finished their own harvesting before starting his.

Edited 2017-09-09 22:47 (UTC)

It's true that Inessa is more often found indoors than outside, and yet she seems relatively at ease throughout this venture. The nice, warm day certainly helps her mood, and definitely that of her companion. Garahel is happily running around sniffing at everything, and soaking up attention from anyone willing to give it. To distract him from the snacks meant for two-legged folks, Inessa keeps mabari crunch treats handy, as well as his favorite ball. It's become habit to throw it and gather what she can while he's running off to fetch, sipping some tea all the while. Of course, she makes certain to aim away from those gathered, or from flora they might need. The mabari is well-behaved and doesn't go near the flower-gathering blanket, without being told.

It's a very nice day, and Anders is pleased to see a few people he doesn't actually know. More interesting than new faces is the way magic is coming off of one of the strangers. It feels like a quiet song, almost, the way the Fade is being directed, and while it takes him some time, Anders finally realizes it's being used on the bees.

Fascinated, he comes over, picking a few flowers along the way.

"I've never seen someone... direct, I suppose? Direct bees. That has to take an exceptionally gentle hand with the casting."

He comes over to Inessa about an hour in, bringing a flower sprig with several tiny white bulbs on it.

"Have you seen more of these? I'm trying to find multiples of each type so it'll be easier to fully test them, but oddly enough I've only found the one so far." It may have been a seed that got stuck to some traveler's clothes and wandered far afield but he may as well have some help keeping an eye out.

It's a pleasant enough day that Myr can't stay upset for long, not with a useful task to keep him occupied. He doesn't even mind that someone's come after him to see what he's up to, though as he's in the midst of kneeling to pick a stem of corncockle he'll wait until his visitor speaks up--

Mark how his shoulders tense when Anders opens his mouth, how he draws in a slow steadying breath before snapping off the flower and tucking it into the satchel at his side with the others he's gathered. How he's too-careful about getting back to his feet, grounding his staff and wrapping both hands around it for support. "Years of practice, serah." He knows the crystals don't distort voices enough to mask his identity as Anders' loyalist interrogator from a month ago. "Creation's a versatile school if you put in the time to learn it."

It's only when he's sure his expression beneath the blindfold is totally composed that he turns his face in Anders' direction, inquires politely: "Have you found anything that looks promising yet?"

Edited (minor text fixes) 2017-09-10 01:54 (UTC)

Leaning in a bit, Inessa inspects them, then shades her eyes from the sun as she peers around. "I spotted one by a fallen tree, I think. Over there." She gestures with her cup of tea. "Thanks for reminding me, I meant to inspect it further but wanted to bring back what I had first."

Garahel bounds over, wagging his tail. Inessa laughs upon seeing his new 'ornament', a butterfly perched on his nose. "Always making new friends, aren't you? I'm just afraid he'll try that with the bees...."

Inessa glances over from where she's inspecting some embrium, while Garahel's happily chasing a butterfly. She readily agreed to this field trip, as much to assist as to hopefully exhaust her mabari with as much playtime and running as he can stand. So far, his energy is still going strong. That's not what has her attention, though.

"Myr? You've been rather distant. Is all well?"

He stills at the sound of the man's voice, realizing his pleasant surprise at an unknown mage wanting to join his trip had been premature.

"Myrobalan." His premature joy crumples a little in his chest, and at least the blindfold on the elf means he doesn't have to work to control his face though his voice has gone from happy and almost eager to precisely neutral. Why had he come?

"The description of the specific flower that helped has been lost to the years, but we're gathering a not insignificant variety." His word choice is clinical and precise. "And I'll be applying my time-honed skills with Creation to them afterward. Granted, spirit healing has been most of what I've practiced."

Anders wishes he wasn't so painfully curious about what Myrobalan was doing with the bees, because he's nearly certain the elf would have no interest in teaching it. The disappointment is a little too much and he breaks, finally asking his question.

"Why did you come?"

He shakes his head as he looks down at the dog. It's cute enough, but he'll never really understand mabari or the great love for them so many have. As he's Inessa's friend, though, he doesn't speak these thoughts.

"Fallen tree over there," Anders echoes, looking in that direction. "Would you mind leading me over and showing me? This one was a little hidden in shade, so perhaps that's what it needs."

While he knows a lot about plants, it's pretty much just healing plants and food plants. Today and tomorrow are going to be crash courses in basic flowers, he thinks.

He knows why the sudden shift in Anders' tone happened, and it still hurts to hear in a strange irrational way. This isn't someone whose friendship Myr wants or whose particular happiness should concern him; quite the opposite--but the instincts of a lifetime die hard.

Anders' pointed little mention of his own schools of magic--something Myr's inclined to take as a deliberate barb right now--does a good job of killing them. He sets his jaw and nods in acknowledgment of the answer all the same. "I wish you the best of luck with it, then."

Don't rise to the bait. Don't let them see they can get to you. Focus on the questions you're asked and give nothing else back. (One of the bumblebees, loosed from the gentle reins of Myr's compulsion, drifts over to land on the elf's fingers. He ignores it as it investigates them.)

"I like flowers," he replies, simply. "And I was a student of natural history back in Hasmal. Had I known you'd organized the expedition, though, I would have waited for another opportunity for fieldwork."

There isn't any malice in his tone; the words are stated plain. It would have been kinder to both of them if he'd known beforehand to stay away; it's his own fault for jumping in blind.

"Oh, not at all. Come, Garahel." The mabari follows along, butterfly taking off almost immediately afterward. It doesn't take too long for her to reach the large mossy trunk, casting plenty of shade for flora.

"It was near the roots...." Hopefully it's the right one. Inessa finds herself wishing she had researched the local plant life before this expedition. Between all her other research, that had unfortunately not been a priority.

"Of course." There's bitterness in his voice. How stupid had he been to think some stranger would just join him? Even the Resolutionists that work with him want something out of him and it doesn't start with f and end in riendship.

He crosses his arms in front of himself defensively, glad again a moment later that the elf can't see him.

"Did you... Never mind." Opening up to someone and becoming vulnerable when they clearly hated him is no option at all. "Enjoy the freedom you have to choose to come to a flower field."

If this had been anyone else, he might have made a joke about fieldwork. Instead, jokes feel dry in his throat and 'freedom' is a deliberate choice of words. He is not solely responsible for the Circles being broken, but if he's going to bear the brunt of the blame he will point out what it had gained them too.

The verbal slap is enough like something Van would say when he means to wound that it robs Myr of breath a moment. His grip on his staff tightens until his knuckles are white; startled, the curious bumblebee takes wing again to rejoin its sisters in foraging.

He'd been trying to be polite, trying to find some way to salvage this conversation he'd been trying to avoid, and--this. This is what he's gotten instead.

"I'd like it much better if I could see it, serah," he says, voice low and soft and oh-so-perfectly controlled. "I'd like it much better knowing my home and family weren't destroyed to purchase that freedom. Thank you," the words are edged, "for what you did to save the mages of Kirkwall, but I thank you also that you don't rub my face in it."

Bees can be stubborn when they put their tiny insect minds to it, and the group Myr's working with has decided that they're going to forage this entire stand of poppies before moving on, no matter how much encouragement he gives them otherwise.

That's probably sufficient reason to explain the small tense frown on his face when he turns his head in Inessa's direction. Maybe. "I--uh," he starts, stops; he doesn't want to lie, but he hasn't got an easy, truthful, diplomatic answer ready for her. "...No, tell the truth, it's not, but I'd rather not dwell on it. Too lovely a day for that."

His voice is level. "Then I'd thank you to not rub my face in how you'd choose basically anyone over me on a day when I'd thought maybe I'd step outside the constant anger and hatred of my daily life. Don't come on something I'm leading with friends to talk down to me as if I don't know anything about Creation magic."

A day trip to get flowers. It should have been simple, but not a single thing that's supposed to be simple ever is for him. Myrobalan is a bundle of condescension and resentment and Anders cannot see a reason to prolong this encounter.

"I take no satisfaction from knowing that freedom cost people. The way things were was also costing people on a regular, daily basis and it could not go on, but I am sorry for your loss, genuinely so. But I doubt that matters a bit to you, so good day, serah."

Normally Anders takes great care to use mage's names. His own was taken from him, and they are people, not things. But in light of feeling like he's been reduced down to a thing on a day when he was supposed to be able to get away from matters, he wants the tiny, petty, private barb of using a title back at Myrobalan.

He starts looking with her, searching through the long grass, and a few moments later they've found a mate to the sprig he's got.

"Perfect. Thank you." A moment later he's giving her a slightly wry look. "I should probably focus a little more on quantity rather than hunting down matches of things, but I'd like to be thorough and I've never had so little to go on before."

One flower somehow cured a mabari of the Blight if the story is right. If it was really the Blight. There's a dozen more 'ifs' in there as well, but he'll do what he needs to to find a cure.

But I didn't know, Myr wants to say. I would've stayed away if I'd known; don't lay this all at my feet.

If this were his cousin, and not Anders, he would say it. He'd leap back into the verbal fray as gladly as he would any physical fight, assail the logical weaknesses of his enemy's position and make a riposte in turn. He hadn't known until it was too late that Anders was here; he'd made a point to keep to himself, to not provoke the fight a part of him so badly wanted.

And when it came looking for him, he demurred, he bridled his tongue, he did his damnedest to keep the peace--and still failed.

Blessed are the peacekeepers, well, perhaps not, right now. But perhaps he's only got himself to blame for that.

So he remains mute in the face of the other mage's even-voiced venom, trying--succeeding--to keep his own wounded gut-deep puzzlement off his face. To keep it out of his voice, when Anders at last makes an end of speaking and he can get a word in edge-wise:

"To you as well, serah."

And no more.

That sparks her curiosity, of course. How could it not? But she retains enough of her manners not to pester for details right then and there. "Very well, though if you need someone to listen at a later time, you have but to ask." That's all the nudging he'll get from her, promise.

"I plan to take a break soon and ensure Garahel has something to eat, so that he doesn't keep making eyes at the spread nearby. You're welcome to join us."

Inessa shakes her head, not about to chastise. "I see your reasoning, Anders, and I have to agree. Besides, we have such a calm, pleasant day surrounding us. There's no reason to rush, rather than proceed at our own pace."

While she speaks, Inessa looks around for another in case she overlooked any matches while seeking out other flora. Her search doesn't turn up any additional flowers, however.

He knows too well that the way he's put it invites more questions than it answers, but there's naught to be done about it. "Thank you," he says, simple and sincere. (It's almost tempting to add 'I might,' but that feels a lie when he's nearly certain he never will speak to her on it. Not about this.)

It's likewise tempting to turn down her offer of a break--there's a reason he's been avoiding food and drink laid out for them and with it the possibility of another unfortunate encounter. But he knows his own limits well enough to know he's pushing them, flirting with dehydration and sun-sickness in a way that Enchanter Philomela would've boxed his ears for. Making himself ill out of spite and anger and childish hurt does no one any good.

"I'd like that. And maybe you can tell me a little about what we've been gathering this whole time; I don't know all these southern flowers." There. Polite and with a built-in topic for conversation that avoids anything dangerous.

"Of course." Inessa beckons to Garahel, and sits down by the snack blanket, reaching for the water to pour some for the mabari in addition to herself. "We've been gathering a variety, for Anders' project. It's a bloom of potent curative abilities, but pertinent details have been lost, so basically we're gathering any even vaguely suits and hoping for the best. It helps that this area has a wide variety to choose from, such as Andraste's Grace. Water?"

Myr busies himself while Inessa talks with emptying the samples from his satchel onto the blanket set aside for them. It's a haphazard mix of wildflowers and alchemically useful species that he's turned up; he does his best to separate the latter from the former even as he cards out a few stems of plants he doesn't recognize. These he takes with him back to the snack station, settling in across from Warden and mabari.

Water? "Please." There's undisguised relief to the word; he is thirsty. Easy to ignore that kind of discomfort when he's working; less so once he's slowed down. "That's sensible enough, though. How d'you plan to test what you've got on the Blight, anyway?"

He fans out the samples he's brought over, meanwhile, feeling carefully over stems and leaves and flowers to better learn their shape.

Pouring a glass, Inessa sets it into his hand. She then takes a long sip of her own before replying, as Garahel noisily drinks from his bowl. "I'm uncertain of the specifics; it's not my project, though I'll offer to assist. If I had to guess, though, I would suspect darkspawn blood to be involved. That always carries a portion of the taint, and is not so difficult to acquire even outside a Blight."

Myr accepts the water with a murmured thanks and takes a measured drink of it, careful not to gulp too much. It's not the coolest after having been out in the sun this long, but it's a damn sight wetter than anything around and he's grateful for it. (It's tempting to trace out the smallest frost glyph on the bottom of the cup but thinking of using his magic and attracting attention for it--no.)

"Huh. So you'd mix it with the blood and...expect the taint to go away?" He gives his water an idle swirl as he thinks about that. "--Sorry, not your project, as you said. Not something I've studied much myself, to be honest." Except briefly, once, during a "wouldn't it be amazing to be a Warden?" phase that every kid surely went through.

"Proceed at our own pace," he echoes with a smile and amused shake of his head. "My pace has not been calm and relaxed for quite some time, but I'm doing my best."

As time goes by he feels more like he's whole and himself again, but there are some things that Justice instilled in him that he doesn't think are going to fade anytime soon. If at all. The need to be useful, the need to get things done to help the world rather than just himself has become what feels natural to him. In his opinion, he's better for it. ...Though he could probably stand to ease up a little, especially on days like today.

"Two stalks will do if it's all we can find. I can do fresh and dried, and skip the ice and fire stages until another time."

"Something similar must have happened to cure a dog of the taint, perhaps. It's a shame we don't have with us the one person who would know." That kennel master, if he didn't fall in Ostagar, is now lost to time in one manner or another. Inessa doesn't know his name or if any evidence of what he had done survived. Probably not.

"Tell me of your own studies, if you would. You have a willing audience, I promise." Putting her glass aside for the moment, she piles on treats for Garahel, who's been such a good boy that he has been waiting patiently rather than snagging anything and potentially being scolded.

"If you require any assistance, I offer mine. I'm rather curious to see your findings on this matter." Granted, it's more than mere intellectual curiosity in this case. Whatever Anders learns could have implications for them all.

"...I see another, but it's small." Inessa heads over and bends down, careful in her attempt to take as much as she can. "It might not be the best sample, but if there are more such, the amount might make up for the size?"

"Or the dog," Myr says, thoughtfully. "If she was mabari, anyway. She might be able to recognize what was given to her, wouldn't she?" If the stories are true, which he's still dubious about, but in the presence of a Ferelden actually bonded to one of the big war-dogs he might as well act as if. "But--they don't live all that long, do they."

He takes another drink of his water and manages a smile for the question. "Where d'you want me to start on that? Back at the very beginning when I decided to take up creation magic because I'd get to spend time with bees? Or what I'm doing for the Inquisition now?" A mage's life was study, when it wasn't war or uprisings or nightmares or broken Circles.

"Are you any good at drawing?" He has a good hand when it comes to writing, and if he takes a great deal of time his sketches can be accurate enough, but if someone's better, he'll take the help gladly.

"And I'll take what I can get. There are so many things I can't exactly balance for right now, but if any sample shows any promise I can experiment further with it. Don't get the roots of that one, if you can help it? Perhaps more will be available in a few months if we need it."

"I can manage a decent sketch, I believe. Nothing worth placing in a gallery, but it should suffice for our needs." Artistic expression isn't her forte, but she can be accurate easily enough.

Nodding at his instructions, she takes out a small knife and cuts it off before the roots. "I'll remember this spot for later use, then." When Garahel returns to her side, she lifes the small sample for him to sniff. "If you see more of these, let us know. Don't touch them, just bark to alert us. Alright, boy?" Garahel huffs in agreement, then starts to search around.

Inessa sighs a little as she strokes Garahel, who happily sets about to devouring what's set before him. "...no, it's unlikely a full adult would live another decade." Her voice is softer at that, not wanting to think about the likelihood of outliving her best friend.

So, yes, changing the subject. "Whichever you prefer, I suspect I'll find both interesting."

"In the meantime, I'll take those to the blanket and continue to look for other things," Anders says genially, holding out a hand. "Thank you. If you wish to help me sketch tomorrow too, I'll be spending any free time I have in the healing rooms doing so. But for now, I think it's back to the hunt for a time."

He wants to make sure they don't miss anything. While this trip isn't something he'd mind repeating, it would be nice to be as thorough as possible the first time around.

Handing over the cluster, she nods amiably. "I'll meet you then, Anders." Just her, Garahel can have playtime with Ciri or a nap, since the healing rooms will be much less exciting for him than all this open space.

...Right. Myr stumbled right into that one, didn't he; he can very well guess what's made her voice go quiet.

Definitely better to let that one drop. "We-ell," he begins, thoughtful. "The whole of my academic career's a little much for one afternoon," and will require some rather artful dodging in parts that he'd rather not get into the habit of, "so maybe the more recent since I haven't been at it so long.

"Though before I assume anything--are you particularly versed in creation magic?" He's gotten snapped at once already today for speaking about it like his conversation partner wasn't familiar. While he trusts Inessa's got a far more level head than Anders, it's not a mistake he's eager to repeat.

Edited 2017-09-16 05:54 (UTC)

That brief melancholy is soon shed as Inessa intently listens to Myr, sipping at her water and reaching for some grapes. At mention of Creation magic, she nods. "It's not my forte, but I know the basic Heal spell and how to create a spring. I'm aware of its other uses as well, though my skill lies more in primal and entropy magic."

Which is all the more reason to pay attention to what Myr has to say now. She loves rounding out her knowledge when time permits.

"That's enough," Myr says, a shadow of his usual cheer creeping back into his voice. Now that he's got a chance to talk magic with a friendly audience, it's hard not to find his enthusiasm again.

"So you know, then, that it mostly concerns itself as a school with acting in the world and strengthening it--working with real things, rather than the intangibles of the Fade. But when we want a mana upwelling, we've got to draw on the Fade, and that requires weakening the Veil enough to do it.

"I've been thinking there's something to that; if I can tease out the part of the spell that's just for pulling the Veil aside, it might give us something to go on for how rift formation happens. That's assuming the principles are similar at all, though." He's a conscientious enough researcher to add the caveat even in the throes of a new idea.

Edited 2017-09-17 09:17 (UTC)

Inessa nods thoughtfully out of habit before realizing Myr won't see it anyway. She waits until her throat is clear to speak up again, encouraging. "That's quite an ambitious project; I approve, naturally. If you need more materials for this research, I'll do my best compensate the cost for the good of the project. And...I would be quite interested in seeing the results with my own eyes, of course."

He takes a moment to finish his water after that spot of talking and flashes her a smile when he's finished. "I'm still in the early stages yet," he admits. "Feeling out what's possible--but I'll take you up on that offer once I've got some direction to what I'm doing."

It's the sort of thing that might require lyrium at the later stages, but no reason to say that now when he's not certain. Although-- "And do a proper safety assessment, as well. Since I'll be tampering with the Veil." It's what would've been expected of him back in the Circle, and he's not managed to break himself of many of his Circle habits yet. (But even if he had, safe research practices are nothing to scoff at.)

"I'm glad you brought that up. Some risk is always involved with experimentation, of course, but we need to be extra diligent about precautions. The Veil is only recently repaired in the Gallows, and that is relative. It's still very thin, and that could lead to trouble if we're not careful." Inessa says as much to remind herself as Myr; it's easy to let curiosity override caution, when there's a breakthrough in research.

Myr breathes out a huff of laughter; there's not much humor in it. "I'd felt that," he admits. "How it's thin, there. It's almost as if it would tear again if I move too sharply." Which is definitely a reason to go even more cautiously with what he's been doing.

He considers his empty cup for a long moment, turning it round in his hands. There's much more he wants to say, or ask, but now the topic's moved a little away from his research the discomfort of simply being here has crept back, left him momentarily wordless. At length he holds out the cup toward her, clearing his throat and mustering some of his ordinary good humor. "If you could pour me a little more, please. --And I'll start on that report in the next day or two, so I don't forget."

Edited 2017-09-22 05:03 (UTC)

"That's why I'm glad we've established a bastion in Kirkwall, honestly. It's best that the thin-Veiled city is in our hands, rather than the magister intent on breaching the Fade. He could do so far more easily here, I suspect." Cheery thought, Inessa.

She pours some more water for him and herself. "I look forward to reading it, of course." Garahel, refreshed, pads over and drops a ball right by Myr's lap. He doesn't need to see to throw it, right?

Cheery, indeed--Myr shivers as if a cloud's passed before the sun and attends to his water rather than grim speculation on what might happen should Corypheus make it so far as Kirkwall. Surely it won't come to that, he's about to say, with rather more optimism than he feels--when Garahel comes over and drops the ball beside him, immediately diverting his attention. "Oh--hello, Garahel."

He reaches out to feel around for what the mabari's brought him, wrinkling up his nose a little as he finds the damp ball. "Did you want me to throw this?" That's...that's a thing you do with dogs, right? "I--" don't think that's a good idea, because while his arm's fine there's no saying he won't hit somebody with the ball if he chucks it in a random direction... But then a thought occurs to him.

"--need you to go a little ways away from us in a direction there's no people, then bark so I know where to throw it. Can you do that?" It seems a practical enough experiment to him.

Inessa chuckles as she watches Garahel dash off toward an unpopulated spot, then bark excitedly. "Where there's a will, there's a way. You have a good range to throw, none of our people are in that direction."

Well, I'll be. So they really could take the kind of complex instruction a person could. Myr looks suitably impressed, before knocking back the rest of his water and laying the cup aside. "Thanks," he remarks to her, clambering to his feet. "Don't think anyone here'd appreciate me hitting them."

He tosses the ball once to get a sense of it before lofting it in Garahel's direction, grin creeping back to him as he does. This is the kind of break he needed.

[Semi-open] A field trip

Need an invitation?

Mingle at the field itself

Afterwards

[ROMPS ANGRILY]

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