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WHO: Fenris and Open!
WHAT: Powers going awry!
WHEN: During these last couple phases of the illness, so when powers first go all weird and onward. Anything goes! The timing is pretty much all over the place, so anything taking place in the Gallows is obviously pre-quarantine!!
WHERE: Kirkwall, the Hanged Man, the Gallows
NOTES: No warnings, just the plot-stuff going down. Maybe a bottle of wine or chair or something is harmed though, whoops.

You dropped something

It starts unexpectedly. Fenris is minding his own business, just out shopping for supplies to bring back home. It’s nothing particularly special, just some food, plenty of liquor, and a bunch of potions, because at this point it can’t hurt to have extra around. He’s all bundled up now, trying to cover the brands as much as possible.

Very suddenly, he feels the return of that burning sensation he's been getting lately. He growls in anger at the feeling, an anger he often channels into activating his powers. It's enough to do it at the moment. Everything he’s carrying just falls through his hands, just like that, smashing on the ground. The liquor goes spilling all over the ground as the bottles shatter. He gasps in alarm as he holds his arms up, noticing the familiar glowing that happens when his power is active, surrounding his arms which have a transparent overall look to them...

Have a seat

Fenris needs a drink, or probably several. Even he has his limits for staying holed up in the mansion, so he eventually makes his way to his favorite shitty bar. Once there, he orders his usual, and takes a seat…

...or tries to take a seat.

Instead, he just falls completely through the chair, starting to faintly glow as this happens. He’s quick to move away, and with good timing as he returns to normal, feeling himself solidify. He mutters a curse under his breath as he tries again to sit down, only to undergo the same result. Then again. The angrier he becomes, the harder it is to control, so the more it keeps happening.

Training session

It’s no better when he goes to the training area in the Gallows. Fenris figures he needs to get a handle on what’s happening. Maybe if he works on it, he’ll find some way to adapt to how fickle his powers have been lately. Sword in hand, he warms up first by going through some regular routines that don’t involve the brands.

Once he’s ready, he concentrates, attempting to make himself turn insubstantial. He starts to glow as usual, so far so good… and then he finds that everything is working well, better than usual, in fact. He whirls around the practice area, slicing and stabbing at the dummies. He comes close to reaching his hand through one of them, but then the glow surrounding him starts to sputter, fading all at once. He slashes at the target in frustration.

Pain is one thing that he’s accustomed to enduring. But this unpredictability is too much.

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Fenris isn't the only one needing a drink. Korrin, deciding to remain outside the quarantine zone, could use a little time to unwinder as well, or at least making the attempt. Given the state of too many friends -not to mention Araceli- that attempt might not be that successful but at the moment, there's absolutely nothing else for her to do. So she'll order a drink while keeping her sending crystal handy.

And then she hears a loud thud, prompting her to whirl around. Several people back away in surprise, but as Fenris repeats the experience over and over, some of the less cautious bar patrons start to laugh. That's enough for Korrin to narrow her eyes and step forward.

"Back to your drinks, all of you! Don't make me come over there." She strides over to Fenris, frowning in concern. "...it's getting worse, isn't it. When did this start happening?"

It's definitely worse, and it's just getting increasingly more frustrating by the moment. It doesn't take much to activate it... and he's realizing that the more agitated he's getting, the more it's happening. Right... he has to calm down and get out of a mindset that will set his power off...

He shoots a glare around the room, then turns his attention toward Korrin.

"Just over the last week or so... it really doesn't take much to set it off. Then, sometimes, it doesn't work at all when I want it to." He frowns. "You can guess why I needed to come here." Sure, there's still the itching and burning, and the brands have gone all weird... but he's dealing with it, as much as he can.

Korrin nods slowly, her expression grave. "Yeah, no shit. That'd be enough to drive anyone to drink. I've heard other affected people have similar problems, but of course you're a special case. That's gotta be a pain and a half in itself, right now." No one really has expertise on his condition when it's 'normal' for him, let alone now.

"I'll buy you a round, and if you're tired of people and want to drink in peace, we can claim a back room."

"If you ever have the option to become a 'special case', do yourself a favor and don't take it." He sighs, frustrated with the whole situation. But he knows he ought to calm himself, so that he stops being in this mindset to activate his powers. It seems like even just breathing will set it off, these days, it's so touchy. "I don't think the effects are the same for the others, but... it's troubling, considering the potential causes behind it. Anyway..."

"I'd like that back room option about now."

"C'mon, then. And thanks for the warning, but I'm pretty sure I'd give it a hard pass anyway." She stands up and signals to the bar, then glances back. "Don't beat yourself up about it, eh? You did what you thought you had to do. We're working to get this sorted out. Believe me, a lot of people have a stake in seeing this through. That doesn't mean it won't suck in the meantime, though."

“I don’t blame you.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I just wonder when all of this will end. It’s been going on for long enough.” His expression darkens. “Long enough that they’ve seen fit to imprison… I mean, quarantine… the entire Inquisition for this. I don’t think it’s nearly the contagion that they’re saying it is. Perhaps among rifters and Templars… but for most people? I see no concern.” He rolls his eyes, not too impressed with that whole idea. He’s not that against locking up the rifters, so if it had been aimed solely at them, fine, but to shove the whole Inquisition in like that? No thanks.

"No, it hasn't touched anyone else, that I'm aware of. I've been fine this entire time, so it must just have something to do with lyrium and...fuck, whatever is getting to rifters." That doesn't mean the events aren't taking their toll and there are dark circles under Korrin's eyes, and less overall energy on her part than usual. But there's enough to snag drinks and guide them to the back.

"How the rifters factor in is something of a mystery." Fenris frowns, hating that he somehow has something in common with mysterious visitors who drop out of rifts. It's just unsettling to him. But somehow, it's all connected... it has to be, they just haven't found the particular thread that makes said connection.

After they get their drinks, Fenris follows along, taking a seat, very carefully, and then a long, much-needed sip of his drink. That he manages to stay on the seat and his cup stays in hand are both minor victories at the moment. Her state doesn't miss his attention, either. "How are you holding up throughout all of this?"

"My kadan is all blue and manic, so honestly? Not great. At this rate, it's going to end badly if they don't hurry the fuck up with a cure. They can't go on like this, Fenris." Korrin sighs, that weariness descending on her like a ton of bricks. She takes a lengthy swig, not that she truly thinks it will help at all. But it's something to do other than wait for things to get worse.

"No kidding." He takes a long swig of his drink, as well, definitely needing that. He's had more than enough of dealing with these weird effects, of not knowing if his power is going to behave. He doesn't want to end up half-phasing through things, after all... the constant dropping things is bad enough. And the way things are going with the rifters... "Are they getting any closer to that cure that you know of?"

"Every day I ask and every day I'm told in increasingly curt tones that they're working on it. Maker knows they'd love to bring it faster, if only to shut me up." Korrin doesn't sound repentant about that in the slightest but then, with Araceli's life at stake, why would she be?

“In my experience, ‘we’re working on it’ is code for ‘we’re clueless and desperately scrambling for answers.’” That’s the impression he’s been getting from everyone about it, anyway, in all of their communications on the matter. He sighs and drinks some more. At least the glowing that’s been coming from his brands is easing up, a little. For now. They’re so sensitive that it’s hard to stop them from acting up, even at the slightest thought. He’s apparently got to completely stop thinking about them, noticing them in any way… or face their malfunctioning again. How fun.

"You're probably not wrong on that, but I can't be there constantly to help, not when Araceli needs a pair of eyes on her." That she's not with Araceli now means that someone else is watching her, but Korrin prefers to take up the bulk of that. "And I've no idea what to suggest, anyway. I may be a mage, but...I've never seen anything like this."

"Nor have I. I'm no mage or magic expert, but I've seen plenty of what happens when magic goes awry. It's nothing like this." The whole thing is troubling, really, this idea that something new and unusual is happening, that things are off balance enough to cause this. "Maybe those rifts are starting to cause more problems that we didn't see unfolding before... who knows?" That's the one thing that's changed in the last couple of years... could the rifts' appearance have set this off? He has no idea, really... like most everyone else, he can only speculate.

A startled squeak comes from nearby at the sound of shattering glass, but then a maid is here, stepping lightly and plucking quickly to pick up the broken bottles from the floor. "Maker," she breathes, "it is so much-- what happened?" Looking up, she sees what Fenris is seeing, and stops dead in what she's doing to stare at his arms.

Well that's new.

It's quite the peculiar display, with his arms glowing and half-substantial as they are. Fenris has gotten used to the fact that he can't entirely hide much of anything about the brands... it's still annoying regardless. He sighs heavily. It never gets easier trying to explain it all.

"A mistake happened. I lost control." He holds up one of his hands, scowling at it as if that could make it stop. It doesn't, of course. "This is... it's a power of mine, but it's not supposed to do that. But you don't have to... I can clear up this mess."

"No, messere, it is no problem," Fifi assures him, smiling sympathetically (albeit a bit nervously) at his... arms, or lack thereof. "All sorts of strange things are happening, don't trouble yourself." She continues to pick up the glass, dropping the smaller pieces into her apron, which she's lifting to make a container. "Are you feeling quite well? Is there anything you need?"

Fenris gives his arms an icy Look, as if his expression alone could make them re-form and stop with the glowing. It’s really tough to control that, lately, though. If even the wrong sort of mindset can do it, then… well, he’s in for a lot of trouble ahead. Sigh.

He looks back toward the other elf, shaking his head. He’d help, but the problem, of course, is that he needs the glowing to settle down before he tries.

“Even so… it’s not your problem. I just need a few moments for this,” he holds up his arms to indicate what he means, though it’s of course obvious, “to stop, and then I should be fine.”

"It is really no trouble," Fifi insists, and, picking up the last of the glass, settles back with a reassuring smile. "I hope you feel better soon, messere."

Maybe if he stops thinking about it, it'll just... stop. He can only hope. It's troubling how difficult to control it is, though, how it just happens with barely a consideration...

"Well, then... thank you," he says that a little bit stiffly, feeling a bit awkward that he can't do more at the moment. Though the glowing is gradually clearing up, so there's some hope. "You were in the right place at the right time... but I'm more than ready for this to stop happening."

By chance, Carver's walking towards Fenris, on his way to do his own errand running. He's no small talker, so all he planned to do was nod in greeting to the elf before going on his way. But when Fenris's markings flash, Carver stops. At first he thinks there's an enemy, but before he even starts looking around, Fenris's things crash to the ground, shattering on the cobblestone and liquid running everywhere.

"What happened?" he asks, striding up to him quickly as Fenris stares at his arms in alarm. Maker, what has been going on lately?

It’s been quite the nuisance, and it seems that it’s only gotten more frustrating than ever. He pauses, glancing at the stuff spilled on the ground, giving it a death glare as if it’s all at fault somehow. Then he looks back to Carver.

“I wish I had a better explanation for you. It doesn’t take much to set it off lately.” Even just stray thoughts that get him a bit in the right mindset appear to do it. Great, just… great, just what he needs. He holds up one of his glowing hands and now focuses the smoldering anger toward it.

Carver, for all he can be a jerk, does something a bit less jerk-like and bends down to pick up some of the items, at least those that didn't break from the fall. "Something to do with how they've been acting up lately? Weren't you complaining they were itching fiercely a week ago?"

Fenris glances at his hands, waiting impatiently for them to re-solidify and stop glowing. Really, of all the timing, it had to happen now, almost on a whim? Whatever's going on, it's getting more frustrating to deal with lately.

"They were, and then the itching turned into... more of a burning..." He frowns, holding up an arm. "Followed by this. Whatever the cause, it's only becoming more of a nuisance with time."

"You're losing control over them," he says, meaning for it to come out as a question but becomes a statement instead. "We've got templars and Rifters turning and oozing blue, and your markings are going haywire." Lovely. Just bloody lovely. "...and you glow blue. So this is something to do with - no, it can't be just lyrium. The bloody rifters aren't chock full of the stuff like the templars are." Are they?

Fenris agrees with a nod and a deep sigh. Carver has brought up the heart of the dilemma that he's facing at the moment. He's been wondering about the connection as well, and coming up with nothing.

"The rifters are a problem." In more ways than one, undoubtedly, but in this case, it's mainly that it's hard to figure out how they quite fit. "Yet somehow it's all connected. There's some reason for us all being affected at once, in slightly different ways. The sooner we figure it out, the better... A cure can't come too soon."

The secondary implication of the rifters being a problem isn't lost on him. He for one agrees with it, though he's not of the mind the rifters are actually demons or anything. They don't seem to have any choice in being here, so he can't hold it against them entirely. "I'll leave that to the scholars and healers to figure out. This is out of my wheelhouse." He beckons with his head. "Need a hand getting this to your place?"

Right. He’s managed to move on past the Maker help us they’re demons stage and into more of a… detached uncertainty when it comes to rifters. They’ve been useful, no one can deny that. And it’s been a long enough time that he’s sure if they were secret demons, they’d have shown their true colors by now. Likely.

“I wouldn’t mind, if you have the time for it.” He normally would refuse, but does he really want a repeat incident at the moment? No, thank you. “I just hope those working on it are getting close to finding something. This can’t keep going on.”

Or they're incredibly patient demons with iron wills. Which, while possible, is probably not entirely likely. Someone would have slipped by now.

"Wouldn't have offered if I didn't." Carver finishes gathering up the dropped items, leaving the broken ones as they are. With everything scooped up in his arms, he carefully sets them back into the bags. "I've no idea who all is working on it. Probably Anders and the other healers."

It really does seem unlikely, even to Fenris who distrusts magical things tied to the Fade on principle. It's still all a big unknown, so he feels wary of it... but it's probably not likely that demons are walking among them freely. Probably.

"Probably so." He doesn't look thrilled at relying on Anders to deal with this situation, but he's not the only healer, that has to count for something, right? "I've heard little about any progress, so far, but that doesn't mean much. They may not want to make their findings public yet."

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You dropped something!

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Dropped something

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