justice_is_blond: (That was my spleen)
Anders ([personal profile] justice_is_blond) wrote in [community profile] faderift2018-02-02 09:57 pm

[Closed] A perfect storm

WHO: Anders, established-CR people; poke me on plurk or in Discord for a top level if you'd like!
WHAT: A pair of triggers collide and fuck up Anders
WHEN: Early Guardian
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: Panic attacks, possible talk of trauma in the past, related issues, dark thoughts




He'd run from being locked up seven times, knowing that the seventh was a death sentence, and been willing to go in alone to what seemed likely to be a lethal trap (and was) to try to destroy his phylactery. With both of them, life like that wasn't worth it.

Now both are back. He's held again, in a Circle, his phylactery is being messed with, and on top of that he can't heal in Darktown so he can do even less than he could in Kirkwall seven years ago.

laurenande: (pic#9667170)

[personal profile] laurenande 2018-02-03 06:19 am (UTC)(link)
Galadriel has come to this place for solace, though it is more macabre than anyone of Thedas might understand. To stand at the shore, looking across to the land on the far side, is to stare forward into death. She feels it, in her bones and in her skin, with the fading of the light she exudes and the bruises that come so easily to her now. She is tired and as she stares off at Kirkwall, she sees somewhere very different, somewhere she would be neither welcome nor is ever likely to set foot upon again.

Not ere the ending of the world.

"It is," she agrees, and her voice is less luminous, less melodic, and far too aged for her own comfort. She is beginning to sound her years--or perhaps it is simply the weight of the plague settling over her.

"I would give anything to be there, but I dare not cross, not for fear of what will come of it," she adds and her distraction is severe enough that she could be talking about his distress or her own, it is impossible to say.

"We are needed here, uncomfortable though it may be. We cannot leave."
laurenande: (pic#9667170)

[personal profile] laurenande 2018-02-03 08:24 am (UTC)(link)
With great effort she turns her gaze from the distant shore to Anders. She can hear him speak but she cannot hear the song that he exudes; only the ocean fills her ears and for that she is equal parts thankful and terrified.

His head is bent and his distress is palpable. Without that sound, that song grating against her mind, against the very heart of her fears, all she can see is a desperate, frightened man. Once she had turned away men like him, had left them to cruel fates, had ignored them to their own doom on her borders, but she was not in Lorien now and he...he had done her a tremendous kindness once.

"Was it truly?" She asks and reaches a hand out. She no longer glows and, with that dreadful change, she knows that she lacks the will to damage him. Even that has faded. Her hand settles on his shoulder and nothing comes of it.

"Or is it fear that drives you, as it does me?" She asks and takes a deep breath. "I cannot abide the templars, and I can no longer shield myself from their sight, so I linger here. Afraid of what is, what was, and what may come to pass...but I cannot regret lingering. If I did not care, I could not be afraid; I am afraid because I care for what happens here, to me, to all of you, and to Thedas should I die ere my goals are reached."
laurenande: (pic#9662072)

[personal profile] laurenande 2018-02-03 09:07 am (UTC)(link)
She stares at him, as he explains and as a shaky breath leaves him, and she can see a reflection of herself in him. No, perhaps it is her imagination, or a delirium from the fever. She lets her hand linger as he asks and considers how to answer him. It is such a long answer and she almost dismisses it, for all that it will require her to say--so much of it should not be spoken aloud, not here or anywhere...and yet.

What more can be done to her?

"I am certain you have realized that I am an elf," Galadriel says and gives him a moment for a snide reply. None comes and she smiles a bit as she carries on. "I have never been terribly fond of the race of Men, even before I came to Thedas and discovered the atrocities laid upon my people."

She looks back at the water and her brow furrows. Now she is staring at Kirkwall.

"I have never cared for Men because you all move so...so very quickly. In a few decades you may build a city, given a century you may have an empire, and then if I look away all of it will vanish before I return my gaze."

She gestures with her free hand but the motion is minimal, idle almost.

"In a hundred years this city will be crumbling. In two hundred years it will either be a relic, enshrined in stories, or utterly forgotten and overgrown. In five? The language that is spoken here will have faded away and will remain on parchment alone. In a thousand? Your countries will be distant memories; even your gods may be forgotten.

"I cannot keep up, I cannot protect you...especially you, for there is truly no hope of finding what you have lost. Thedas terrifies me because I cannot know what has happened in this place, not truly, but I recognize enough aspects of it to be truly and completely afraid."
laurenande: (Default)

[personal profile] laurenande 2018-02-03 09:51 am (UTC)(link)
She chuckles then, though it is hard to say what has inspired her. She is feverish and only her great focus has held her together this long. She draws a deep breath and lets it out as a sigh.

"I am...how strange, I suppose I am not the eldest in this world...not anymore, but I am very close to it," she says and withdraws her hand. She settles the pair of them on her lap and looks up at the sky. The sight is uninspiring, overcast and grey as it is.

She had told Ellana this once, and had experienced her blatant disbelief. The very idea of such age in a world without the Eldar is jarring. Ellana had been more than willing to accept it...but she did not expect the same reception here. Anders did not have that rapport with her; up until quite recently they had bordered on adversarial. She could not simply tell him, he would think it a lie...or perhaps a hallucination...and how amusing that would be.

"I have witnessed more dawns than the forests that line the hills," she says instead. "I have seen the very height of the glories of the elves and watched as they diminish like cliffs being worn away by the tide. I have watched as empires of men rose and fell and rose again...and in all my time the only constant, the only thing that remains unchanged, is that men always forget.

"Change your world as you like, Anders. I cannot find purchase in this struggle your people have for I am no mage. The name is so ill fitted in my mind that I would sooner think myself a bird. It is a human word, one of so very many....

And here is where she hesitates, visibly and openly, but she forces herself to speak it.

"The last battle I shared with Men was one of the most hideous ever waged. A million men and elves and orcs perished upon my very doorstep; they fought and died and poisoned the earth with their bodies. Three thousand years and still it has not recovered...and the reason they fought was forgotten, as were they, as they would remain had their land not been named by the Eldar."

She is getting side tracked, the dead marsh is not the point.

"They fought a creature there, a shade of the ancient world, who cast his will throughout great Men, and Elves, and Dwarves. He sought dominion and nearly achieved it. They died to defeat him...and they destroyed him...but they also failed their task and he survived. Unfortunately, their failure was forgotten."

She looks at him again.

"That creature, Sauron, was a foot soldier in a greater army. His rank was forgotten long before men knew his name and he served a darker shadow, one whose arts forever poisoned the foundations of earth. His very name became legend, then myth...but I did not forget.

"The song that lives in you is the song that he sang, the song of Morgoth. It is the original notes of discord, the heart of the shadow. I am the only one who remembers...and so I cannot die until I wipe it from this world. It cannot be forgotten...I will find a way and when I do...I too will be forgotten."
circleprodigy: (head tilt)

[personal profile] circleprodigy 2018-02-03 03:16 pm (UTC)(link)
"Anders?" Inessa is on her way to the roost herself, when she spots a familiar figure ahead. It's understandable, he's bonded with Buggie after all, but his just standing there at the foot of the stairs has her brow furrowing in concern. She closes the distance between them, resting a small hand on his arm.
circleprodigy: (sympathy)

[personal profile] circleprodigy 2018-02-03 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Inessa nods, patiently giving him a moment to collect himself. She doesn't really expect normal, though. Normal is for people who don't have their particular set of circumstances, and his past.

"I am. I thought I would visit Potato, while I was feeling up to it." She pauses, then shakes her head. "You don't need to hide it from me, Anders. I know it must strain you to remain here. Perhaps it's unwise to recommend this, but...the griffons need exercise, anyway. We wouldn't be breaking any regulations by taking Potato and Buggie out for a quick loop around."

If the griffons never touch the ground outside, it can't be truly breaking quarantine, right? Were it Inessa alone, she would stop to ask a division head first, but she knows that look. Anders needs this, and perhaps so does she.
overharrowed: (someone must really have it in for him)

[personal profile] overharrowed 2018-02-04 01:31 am (UTC)(link)
Julius isn't actively looking for Anders at all, for all that the crystal message had been concerning for a variety of reasons. What he's actually looking for is towels or other cloth, since it occurs to him it might make sense to minimize the sharp corners in his room as long as he remains prone to sudden disorientation or Maker knows what else...


... but that flies out of his head completely as he catches sight of the man in the corner.

"Anders?" He's not sure exactly what's going on, so he approaches cautiously, but the concern is real. What's wrong is not a helpful question; too broad and perhaps too self-evident in some sense. Instead, he asks, "Can you hear me?" Because there's a nonzero chance he could be in a state caused by... whatever it is that's affecting them, and that's the first possibility worth ruling out.
circleprodigy: (pleased)

[personal profile] circleprodigy 2018-02-04 03:28 pm (UTC)(link)
She waits without complaint, giving Anders all the time he needs to collect himself. When he meets her gaze again, she gives a small smile of encouragement as she gives that arm a light squeeze.

"Absolutely. They're waiting for us; shall we?" Those stairs aren't going to climb themselves, after all.

Page 1 of 4