faderift | [Open] Turning All His Dreams

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[Open] Turning All His Dreams

WHO: James Norrington and You
WHAT: Phase II Hallucinations
WHEN: What is time when your lyrium addiction is kicking your butt? In the middle of Phase II
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Warnings for Graphic Violence.

You might find him anywhere, honestly. No one is quite sure how he keeps managing to get out of the healer's tents, but there James is. Sitting in the dining hall, blue tinged and wide-eyed. In his office, in his rooms, in the courtyard. Interceptor is always with him, whining with worry until someone comes along to drag him back to the healer tents, and drug him back to sleep once more.

Yet it seems like he has never left his dreams. He has refused to take any lyrium, and so now, he is talking to people who are not there -- and ignoring the ones who are. At least, until they make themselves known, and then he's introducing them to ghosts from the past. Some possibly still living, but most of them dead.

After all, if you are going to go through withdrawl, might as well take the most interesting and horrifying journey, yes?

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A project leader's work is never done, or at least it seems that way. And yet, at the moment it's an insurmountable task. Inessa is reclined on the couch, arm over her eyes as she tries to will the world into not spinning around her. Garahel is sitting anxiously by her side, though he perks up as the doorknob turns. When James enters with Interceptor, he perks up and rushes over, whining now for multiple reasons.

Interceptor's attitude was one of concern, and he immediately whines to Garahel as James wanders in, speaking to ... well, what looks to be empty air. "Well yes, as I said before. I haven't got enough information to hunt her down."

He turns his head, swaying as he wipes sweat away from his brow. "Well yes, I know, I have had two years -- but she is one mage out of thousands in the middle of at least three to four different wars. It's a bit hard."

Hearing James' voice lures Inessa out of her mental fog, or at least enough that she can focus a little, after moving her arm away. She squints up at James, frowning as she does her best to catch up with what he's saying, only to be just as lost afterward.

"...James? What--who are you talking to?"

James turns to the other side, as Interceptor whined gently, "I have leads. I am still following up on those leads. Of course I am trying! No, I am not going to ask for her help - don't go bleeding all over the floor to make me go into a complicated emotional situation - what?"

He actually turned towards Inessa, and then blinked. "Inessa! When did you get here?"

"This is my office, I've been here since this morning--" She stares at him owlishly while pushing herself up to a seated position on the couch. It's a mistake; the motion has her too lightheaded to speak and for a moment, it's all she can to not to slip back down. But that moment passes, and she lets out a sigh of relief.

"What help do you need? What were talking about, just now?"

"Oh. Well apparently we've gone to the wrong office." Norrington muttered, as Interceptor chuffed at him. He looks at her, with glazed eyes, before he seems to perk in his ill state.

"Ah! Yes, maybe you could help me. I am trying to find the blood mage who murdered my mentors in cold blood."

Garahel makes a questioning noise at that, as Inessa uses him for support in sitting up once more. "I...have no information to begin such a search, but of course I would gladly assist you. You know my feelings on blood mages and blood magic."

Anyone from Kinloch Hold was likely to harbor a strong distaste for it, and with good reason.

Interceptor barks worriedly, because his master has been doing this for Awhile. James, for his part, turns to gesture to Inessa, "See? There you go. Please be polite and stop bleeding from your throats on the floor."

"...right. Um, James? Could you please sit here with me? And tell me when you slept last." She scoots over after throwing her legs over the edge, though she hardly takes up much room in a seated position as it is.

"...well I don't honestly know, Inessa." He sits next to his friend, frowning faintly as he looks back at where people were supposedly bleeding over Inessa's carpet.

"They say I haven't slept in awhile, but honestly, considering I have to start hunting this blood mage down, I really don't have the time for it."

Interceptor comes over and gives Inessa a pathetic look. 'Help me?'

She strokes Interceptor's head, then asks another important question. "James, have you tried sleeping? Would you try? For me, for Interceptor...." Garahel barks; do it for him, too. He cares about you, James.

"... I am trying. To sleep. I have taken the sleeping draughts and that helps but then I wake up again." He sighed, rubbing one hand over his face. "And then I end up talking to dead people. It's very distressing."

Hearing all that has her frown of concern deepening. "I imagine so, even more than it is to see you thus. James, I promise you; there is no one here but us and the mabari. We are alone. If you need someone to help distinguish what is truly there, look to us."

"....Right. Right. So, my mentors are not standing in your office, bleeding all over your floor." His tone almost has a pleading note to it.

"They are not. I swear to you, my floor is unstained. What you're seeing isn't truly there. Close your eyes, take some deep breaths, and calm yourself. Please, for us."

He put his face into his hands, and breathed and out. Steadying himself, until the images faded back and he was just in Inessa's office.

"... please help me back to the infirmary."

"Of course." Garahel whines a little as Inessa moves to stand, watching her intently, but the dizzy spell hasn't returned and she's able to remain upright. She offers a hand to James, patiently waiting until he's ready to take it.

Interceptor also barked with some concern, before he gets up to support them both with his broad back. James, for his part, wavers as he gets to his feet, but he does manage to get to his feet.

Inessa relaxes as James' effort is met with success, then loops an arm around his, gesturing to the door. "Onward, then. And it's alright if we cannot manage a brisk pace. I'll reach our destination eventually."

The Rifters make it bad enough, but...relatively easy to contain. People expect strange things from Rifters. It's the Templars that has Malcolm in practically a tizzy. He's been on high alert the past few days, trying to wrangle people back to confinement, to healer tents, to rooms to lie down in, to please for the love of Andraste just sleep.

Milady comes to a stop before he does, head whipped and ears pointed in the direction of some murmuring. And when he follows suit-- "Maker have mercy..."

The Templars could definitely cause an incident without meaning to. If anyone were to ask him, it has nothing to do with his occasional skepticism regarding Templars and everything to do with how that is absolute fact. Rambling, feverish, nigh insane, and with power to back them up? It sets his senses as a Seeker on edge.

"Commander Norrington?"

" - I don't care what you say, Mother, I think it is ridiculous to ask me to retire in a middle of a war. I don't care if you want - " Norrington stopped addressing the empty bench in front of him, his green eyes glazed and his sweat tinged blue.

"Ah." His tone held about as much enthusiasm as Malcolm's held, but at his side, his Mabari perked up immediately, barking a welcome to him. Norrington lifted his chin. "Seeker Reed, I would like you to meet my dead mother."

He gestured to the open space in front of him, "Mother, this is Seeker Reed." A pause, "Well honestly I don't know what his mother thinks of his line of work and why he hasn't give her grandchildren. You'd have to ask him directly."

Wow, okay, right, well, that was a whole slew of something he didn't know how to react to. "Commander--you do understand that I do not, in fact, possess the ability to see dead people?" Of all people who should not be out and about, it's Templars. Templars who may or may not be taking their lyrium. Milady sniffed the air and stuck by Malcolm's side. Perhaps the smell of illness kept her from turning into a living exclamation point that she normally did around other people.

She reluctantly followed when he dared approach closer, because he might have to all but wrangle the man back to a tent. "Surely she'd like to see you resting well and out of the chill."

"...Oh right, you're a Seeker. Seekers can't do things like that." James tipped a little to the side, and Interceptor popped up, to go ahead and give James lean into. James petted his dog fondly.

"Oh yes, probably. And more sleep ... sleep would be good."

"Technically speaking, Templars can't--" You know what? Nevermind that. "I'm not even going to argue the point."

He stepped up to James' other side, to bring a steadying arm around his middle. "Why don't I escort you back to the healers, hm? Then you can sleep all you'd like without having to argue with your mother."

"...Oh, come on. I am doing it right now." He was standing up right. He thought. He wasn't sure.

Interceptor barked, and pressed it to James's side to help on his other hand, "Well. All right. Okay. Yes. Perhaps you can convince them to strap me down."

This is probably the third time Evie has gone to check in on James and he hasn't been where she left him. She would be irritated about having better things to do, but she doesn't really, as she entirely hates working on diplomatic missives. Plus, most of the Inquisition seems to be in a steadily declining state of chaos, so the whole 'doing paperwork' thing seems pointless to her.

Instead, she tries to track James down. She starts in the more obvious places, his rooms, his office, but once she exhausts the normal places she just starts walking around the Gallows, looking for any hint of where he may have disappeared to. She almost walks right by the room he's standing in the middle of, but Interceptor whines, and she turns her head, spotting him through the open door.

"James!" She somehow sounds both annoyed and relieved, turning to walk into the room, hands out at her sides. "You're supposed to be in the Infirmary!"

James is staring out the window, his green eyes wide and his hand reaching out to ... what, one could not be sure. Interceptor's bark grabbed his attention, to the dog, and then to what the dog was barking at.

He blinked for a moment, his eyes unfocused, then he seemed to recognize her. "...Oh yes, there you are. I was wondering when you would find me."

Wavering on his feet, he gave her a tired smile, "I've been talking with my older brother. He's also yelling at me for not being in the infirmary."

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[Open] Turning All His Dreams

her office?

Her office

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courtyard

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some random empty room somewhere

Re: some random empty room somewhere