OPEN | I won't be made useless

[keenly]

WHO: Colin and OPEN
WHAT: Administering magebane, dealing with phylactery bullshit
WHEN: Present/course of maybe a week
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: I will mark individual threads for any warnings.

I: Apothecary

The room across from the infirmary doesn't actually have a name, but at the moment, Colin has claimed it for mixing up drugs and one particular poison. He has never made poisons before, but the concept is really quite the same. There's also something soothingly demystifying about learning the ins and outs of a drug that causes mages to be powerless. Maybe he can start fashioning an antidote. But mainly, he is here to administer the poison to the sick. Since he has agency over this, he has made the stuff as palatable as possible by mixing it into spicy-sour bowls of gazpacho topped with fresh herbs and minced garlic. The soup is cold but flavorful, made from raw winter vegetables from the garden. The vinegar helps to mask the bitterness of the magebane, but there is still an unavoidable metallic taste. Patients are handed a hunk of bread and encouraged to wipe the bowl clean with it, eating every drop.

The apothecary himself, however, is dealing with occasional...problems. Not just being overworked to the point of moving some bedding into the room and sleeping there.

A few times, he finds he cannot put a cork in a bottle without missing. He reaches for something and his hand grabs air. His feet won't go in his shoes. It only lasts a few minutes each time, but it's maddening.

You might be in the room when there's a sudden burst of electric energy and Colin gives a cry of agony as it hits him. He hits the floor, hard.

II: Closed to Kostos

It's time for their spirit magic lesson, and Colin is waiting in his quarters when Kostos comes in. But he's sitting with his back to a wall, knees against his chest, trembling so hard his teeth chatter. His gaze is fixed on the opposite corner of the room. Nothing is there. Not to Kostos, at any rate.

You're not real.

Of course I'm real, Colly-boy. I'm just not here. And you're still afraid of me.

III: Hallway - one thread

Colin is coming back from running an errand to his store when he hears the air crackle. It's not the same sort of electric crackle as he heard before. It whistles, shrieks like ice, and before he can fling up any manner of defense, it closes around him. Ice encases him, freezes him, minute but sharp crystals digging into fingertips and toes. Most frightening is the chill in his chest, and the layer of ice between his face and air. He can't breathe.

Comments

Julius

[keenly]

At some point during the day, Colin remembers he hasn't eaten. It's not that he hasn't had help--to the contrary, people tend to really step up in a crisis once they know what they can do about it. It has given him...hope? Is that the word? Maybe even a little faith in the world? But it has still been an insanely busy day. And if that weren't enough, someone is currently messing with his phylactery. At this moment. He's trying to amuse himself with this one, though, wadding up papers and tossing them into a wastebasket, only for them to inexplicably turn away and land on the floor. The last batch of magebane is stewing under a haste spell, and he has run out of certain agents for another batch, so he's killing time poking at this mystery and seeing if the wads of paper fall in any particular pattern. They don't. What is this supposed to accomplish, mad genius with a million vials of other peoples' blood?

[overharrowed]

While Julius is deeply relieved that they've solved one problem, he's acutely aware that he's lost one of the major ways he was distracting himself from how deeply unsettled he is by the entire phylactery situation. He's still looking for answers and still not finding them.

It won't take his mind off the situation, but he's determined to keep an eye on his fellow mages to the extent he can. He's no one's teacher anymore, and he knows a lot of them find him untrustworthy, but even so... He starts with Colin, who he knows is both affected and speaking to him. If Julius is honest, he still feels a bit protective of his former students especially. And it's not hard to find a reason to drop by, when Colin's getting magebane out the door as fast as he can compound it.

Julius knocks lightly on the doorframe. "Supply delivery, if this is a good time?"

[keenly]

Colin had just stuck a piece of bread between his teeth and was biting down. He stops, happily waves Julius in, and returns his hand to the bread to finish biting. Anders may not trust the man, but Colin has never had any reason to doubt good old Julius. Loyalists are not abuse-enablers or Templar flunkies. They are mages, and mages who want the same things as non-Loyalists. They just have disagreements about methodology.

"It's always a good time for supplies," he says with his mouth full. "Is that my corrupted lifestone?"

[overharrowed]

"It is indeed." He comes in properly and sits across from Colin. "We're actually back to our regular level of under-supplied, rather than quarantine levels. How's the magebane coming?"

Talking about the problem that had been solved might not be as productive as discussing the one that hadn't, but it was much more comfortable.

[keenly]

"Coming along well, which," Colin turns away from his work to squint at Julius, "how is it our lives got to a point where mages are making this stuff to give to Templars, anyway?"

Back from hiatus, though if it's been too long, no worries on handwaving the rest

[overharrowed]

Julius laughs, at that, surprised but frank. "Maker, I don't know. I'd say it's been a strange few weeks, but I suppose it's been a strange few years at this point." He exhales, not quite a sigh. "Though I admit, even so, having something concretely helpful to do is a nice change of pace, even if it's for Templar benefit. And the rifters, of course." Who he may have slightly warmer feelings toward.

idk I am way later than you

[keenly]

Colin is comfortable with neither, but at least templars are a devil he knows. "Do we know rifters aren't demons? Especially after all this?"

[overharrowed]

He seriously considers the question. "I suppose we can't be entirely certain, but it'd be a lot of demons acing very mortal for a long time. I've never read or heard of anything like it. Demons generally are more... goal-oriented, I suppose; it's hard for them to deny their natures at any length." Julius doesn't have a lot of contact with rifters other than Petrana, himself, but some of them have been under observation for years. He suspects they'd have seen consequences or, at the very least, one of them slipping.

"If they didn't tip their hand before, I find it hard to imagine they wouldn't give up and voluntarily go back to the Fade rather than endure this much discomfort."

[keenly]

"Would we know if they did?" Colin's voice is quiet enough to give a little respect to those who may have vanished without being remembered, but he is still wary. "Even if they're not, they make up half our leadership and we don't even know what they are. I don't understand it, is all."

[overharrowed]

"The make up our leadership out here, in Kirkwall, with Skyhold well out of the blast radius," he says, quietly, more serious than he usually is, at least with Colin. "More mages out here too. I can't think that it's an accident, that." Kirkwall's segment of the expedition, even before the illness, had something of the air of a fishbowl to Julius' eyes.

"On the other hand," he adds, "it suggests a level of foresight, desperation or both. Inquisition leadership is rightfully scared of Corypheus, they want to build a power base largely out of those who have few other options for allies or, if they're as clever as I hope they are, it's both of those things."

Clever but perhaps disagreeing with him, that Julius can work with. Especially if he's successfully played a key part in their victory. Stupid... well. If they all survive Corypheus, he'll deal with that then.

[keenly]

A sound of assent. "Could be why they gave a shady bastard like me a contract." That was sardonic. Sort of. He does sell illegal lyrium. "Though I'd think they'd want all their outposts to have the best chance of success they can have. Taking a gamble on rifters seems a bit reckless. Not that it matters what I think."

He only knows, like, one rifter.

[overharrowed]

"Maybe. Neither of us were here when they had the rifters at Skyhold, were we? I sometimes wonder what it was that finally triggered them to start the outpost here." There are rumors, but no one clear picture. He can see why, broadly, it would be an advantage (and, as Colin observed, a weakness); but what it was that was enough to conquer inertia is less clear.

"...did you at least negotiate a good contract out them?" he adds, after a moment.

[keenly]

"Pretty good," Colin confirms, corking a bottle and setting it aside so he can start on the next one. "Well. Reasonable, I should say. Considering my lack of experience, getting any contract with the Inquisition is a real stroke of luck, but I didn't have to give them my firstborn child in exchange for it either. If I hadn't had the merchant ship experience, I'd have been laughed out of the room."

A glance. "What about you? I know Fiona's rebels got folded into the Inquisition, but how did you end up here?"

[overharrowed]

"Waited until they were desperate," he says, breezily. "No. Well, sort of. I heard about the Breach but it took me some time to work my way back. By the time I made it to Skyhold, I more or less got through 'Circle-educated with combat experience' before they tossed me onto the first caravan bound for Kirkwall. I just thought... whatever happens next for mages, it doesn't matter if the entire world ends first, you know?"

Julius has never really expected amnesty. He wasn't one of the rebels per se, but he hadn't tried to stop them. He'd voted. And then he'd left.

[keenly]

There's a faint assenting sound. "I hated the Circle," he understates, "or it hated me anyway, but somehow it almost feels like we're more divided outside of it than inside. I mean inside, there were still fraternities, but they couldn't do much of anything. Now that they can, and we're at our best position to put it to good use, we mistrust each other even though we really all want the same thing and just disagree on how to go about it. And Corypheus wouldn't have a chance if everyone opposed to him was unified, but this war has dragged on anyway. I can't understand it."

[overharrowed]

"I don't know," Julius says, breeziness gone now. "I think it's different things for different people, probably. Some people might believe that if it doesn't get better now, this instant, we'll never have a chance again. Or that if they compromise at all, they've weakened their future position."

He's quiet a moment, then says, "Just because I believe that the existing system can be reformed doesn't mean I can't see that it needed to be. But it feels like we're still in a world where you're a loyalist or you're not, end of story, even now. If it weren't for Corypheus, I don't know if I'd have ever come back."

[keenly]

Colin slowly, deliberately squeezes a cork into a bottle. Occasionally he is hit by some sort of hex that prevents that from happening. Fortunately, that is not now. He doesn't have that excuse to undercut his next statement. He doesn't have any excuse not to make a next statement. He shakes his head, the waves of stray hairs emphasizing the motion.

"Are you thinking about Anders?" he asks, because he knows Anders didn't want loyalists at the meeting he called. And yet, he can't entirely blame him. He understands the desire to exclude, although he doesn't totally agree with it.

[overharrowed]

It's a fair question, and Julius chuffs a quiet laugh. "Not only Anders, but partly, certainly. It's a bit different for people I knew before the war, I suppose. No one has to wonder where Anders stands, though." It perhaps sounds like criticism, but it isn't. Not exactly.

He shrugs. "Anders knows I don't agree with what he did here in Kirkwall. That's not a secret. But he's also still talking to me at all, even if he doesn't trust my politics. So I suppose that's something."

[keenly]

"I think he thinks loyalist mages want the Circles back, so they must be willing to risk what went on inside them." Colin sets the bottle aside and begins to fill another. "But you're not responsible for any of that. He's thinking like a survivor. A lot of them do. Then there's others who are just sanctimonious about freedom like it solves everything and people who don't think that are Chantry mouthpieces. Which, some of them are. So everyone winds up arguing with the strawman instead of listening to each other."

He corks the bottle, then looks shyly toward Julius.

"I don't know if it makes it better, but if you were involved in building the new Circles? I wouldn't be so afraid for them to come back."

[overharrowed]

That earns a small smile from Julius. "High praise. I hope I'm worthy of it. But I agree that a lot of it is just... reaction, rather than action. It's not as if I don't understand why, but..."

He hesitates, uncertain he wants to bring up his thought to Colin, under the circumstances. He settles on: "I want what I think a lot of mages want -- a way for mages in Southern Thedas to lead safe, long lives. The abuses in some Circles were horrific, and I don't deny that. But it seems disingenuous to ignore the fact that blood magic and abominations also exist beyond as feeble excuses for templar violence."

He has no doubt many people have been wrongly accused of blood magic, but he's also cleaned up the corpses of friends blood magic killed.

[keenly]

In some Circles, he says, as if all Circles weren't set up the exact same way as the Gallows. Colin remembers people talking about the rebellion in Kirkwall and thanking the Maker things weren't like that in Ferelden. But things were like that in Ferelden; they just had more good people, a good Knight-Commander and a good First Enchanter, a happy mix consisting mostly of people who wanted the same thing. But it wasn't the Gallows that created Anders, or Jowan, or Uldred's desperate followers. It was Ferelden. And Colin knows exactly how it happened. It's easy to be unaware of how the system has been built against you until the day you crash through to the basement of it. How easy it is for a corrupt templar to make threats and carry them out even in the best Circles.

But Julius remembers that it was blood mages, not templars, who nearly killed everyone in the Circle. Colin remembers that, too. His gaze falls.

"They're as much a threat to mages as they are to anyone else. It's easy to forget that, even if you've been trapped inside a tower with them. Even if we all moved to an island and had our own colony, abominations could wipe out every mage there. And, they might find a way to the mainland. But even if they don't, we can't pretend they're not a problem. They just...might be less of one, in theory, if we felt less hopeless. Same as suicide."

A shrug. He passes along an empty flask, then his brow furrows as he continues to work.

"But it was only the one Uldred we had. He killed a lot of people, but he only happened once. Did he do more damage than the templars did, cumulatively over years and years?"

[overharrowed]

"I don't know," Julius says, honest. "If you stack up all the abominations against all the abusive templars... I can't tell you what that arithmetic looks like. But no one who isn't delusional thinks we can go back to the status quo exactly as it was, not after all this. 'Loyalist' doesn't mean now what it did before the war. It can't."

He exhales, almost a sigh.

"I think you're right, though. People on both sides are guilty of imagining they already know what the other thinks, so they don't listen. Debating a point the other person isn't making and may not even believe."