[closed-ish] the price that we pay
WHO: Sina, Church, Atticus, Nari, Rifts & the Veil researchers, any Rifters who want to attend, several NPC (or PC!) Templars, any healers who wanna
WHAT: an alleged venatori will study an anchor shard, hilarity no doubt ensues
WHEN: early Harvestmere
WHERE: an empty room in the former mage tower
NOTES: The room will be closed to people not in the above-mentioned groups, just so it doesn't get too crowded, but feel free to eavesdrop and/or gossip.
WHAT: an alleged venatori will study an anchor shard, hilarity no doubt ensues
WHEN: early Harvestmere
WHERE: an empty room in the former mage tower
NOTES: The room will be closed to people not in the above-mentioned groups, just so it doesn't get too crowded, but feel free to eavesdrop and/or gossip.
The room is quiet and tense as it begins to fill with people, an assortment of benches and chairs set up for those viewing, in front of which are two chairs facing each other with a table beside them. One is for Church, who can arrive, prepare, and sit down at his leisure; the other is for Atticus, who is escorted in by a Templar on either side, with several more in attendance, and who is brought promptly to his chair and kept in shackles until the need arises for his hands to be free.
Just behind and slightly to the side of this tableau is yet another bench, this one for the healers and for the two representatives from Clan Dahlasanor. Sina, looking weary and just a little thinner than usual, leans against Nari with a wool blanket wrapped around herself. She's seated on the end, nearest to Church and ready to jump for him in the event that something should go wrong. Not that she's in any shape to do much jumping.
Once everyone is settled, most importantly the mage and his subject, the experiment begins.

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A moment's calculus: Atticus is too valuable an asset to risk, but neither is the injury life-threatening. Shivana's here as support, not a dedicated healer — to shirk Anders is to slight the man. She couldn't give a damn for that, save their direly-mixed company; the whole bloody room's just seen Myr leap to attention, and she's under no illusions as to how that will play before some eyes.
"Thank you," to Myr. "Please do so."
The boy could use the encouragement. More to the point, they could use the healers. If this isn't his particular focus, there's only one way to improve.
"It seems in hand," A measured look to Anders: Let's not do this now. "But he will need monitoring. Outside a cell."
Let the man keep him in clinic a time. An imperfect solution, but it will gall the lot of them, and that's close enough to compromise to serve.
"When these abilities have previously manifest, they have been retained, no?"
To Inessa, to Sina, to any a shade better-prepared to own the knowledge. She's plenty to work with — but templars who pay attention have a way of shutting down discussion.
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The words that remind him the shape of magic needed are long-practiced from healing his own injuries. He calls on the Fade sotto voce in one long sentence, the light of creation once more rising from beneath his palm where it rests on Vedici's shoulder. It's a subtle spell otherwise as it slips through skin and skull to ease swelling and mend sheared nerves, sop up blood and wick away bruising, setting the injured brain quietly to rights.
He only leaves off the last codicil meant to push the unconscious subject back toward wakefulness; if Atticus rouses on his own, so be it, but it seems better to Myr that their Venatori guest remain safely out until he's been moved somewhere quieter.
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Lips pressed together, he looks over his shoulder at Anders and Inessa. "He will be under guard." Statement, not question. "I do not care if it is Templar or Warden, but he is not to be left alone at any time."
He would prefer Templar, but he knew how Anders felt about them and he would like to avoid further events like the one that kept happening between Cade and Anders, thank you very much.
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She quirks an eyebrow at James, not about to protest this. The Venatori magister cannot be trusted, that is a certainty. "Agreed; if not a Templar, then at the very least one who can cast Dispel. We can alternate, if you wish." She honestly doesn't care one way or another who is left to guard him, as long as it happens.
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This isn't the moment for a pissing contest.
"I would be cautious," With a calm she doesn't feel, "To assume much at this stage."
Raw energy applied to a seemingly open connection. A link to the Fade is as much a link to feeling -- even so. Perhaps comparisons might be made to early, involuntary casting: An apprentice's pre-reflex.
Considerations to be heard by those closer to the root of her interest. Gwenaelle's shard isn't for any more public consumption than may be helped.
"I am going to lift him," A hand to Myr's shoulder: Step back, as she drags Atticus up. They'll want to avoid knocking him about any further, but the magister isn't small, and she's not about to ask Norrington for assistance after that. Sometimes young men need to be reminded you could put them through a wall.
A huff of breath to sling him up over a shoulder. Dignity was never the order of the day.
"When you are ready, Warden."
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But for now, it's his turn to look around, glancing between Wren and Inessa as he attempts to figure out which Warden she means. Probably him? Possibly not. Now he lets the amusement show.
"We've names, which would help indicate which Warden you mean." He thinks it more than likely the fact that they're both mage Wardens is the reason she's not bothering to give them names, but it's not like he's going to say that in mixed company. "If you mean me, I'm ready."
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"No offense, Sina, but I'm glad I volunteered now. That wouldn't have been pleasant."
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But eventually he brushes a little hair away and settles his hands lightly between her shoulders, something like a hug back. "Hey, no, it's okay, I promise I'm fine. It'll take more than an unexpected pain laser to take me down. I'm the one that stupidly agreed to this, remember?"
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A gesture to Anders with her free hand. Sina’s voice isn’t well, and she’d prefer to get out of here before anyone begins crying —
"If you might support his head through the doorway."
She's already making her way out.
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This is what continued oppression is - Templars getting to ignore niceties while a mage is called out for being gentle about bringing them up. It's never the right time, and it's never the right place. He hadn't even been angry, but no, it's a dick-measuring competition.
He shakes his head once. The amount of work still to do if they're ever going to be equals is ridiculous, but he did agree to help so he'll continue that. Anders keeps Atticus' head from hitting the doorway before glancing back.
"If you feel any surprise pain, Church, let me know right away." Church is a Rifter. He doesn't get what shutting mages up does, so Anders can't hold it entirely against the man.
And with that, he follows the Templar out.
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There wasn't.