Entry tags:
[OPEN] I can't get by pretending it's okay
WHO: Bruce Banner and Anybody Else
WHAT: Everything Is Fine And Nothing Is Wrong: a premier by Bruce
WHEN: Haring 16 onwards
WHERE: All over Skyhold
NOTES: Mostly open post through the rest of December - prompts and such are under the cut. I'm starting in brackets, but feel free to switch to prose and I will follow accordingly! Also warning for angst and Bruce being Bruce.
WHAT: Everything Is Fine And Nothing Is Wrong: a premier by Bruce
WHEN: Haring 16 onwards
WHERE: All over Skyhold
NOTES: Mostly open post through the rest of December - prompts and such are under the cut. I'm starting in brackets, but feel free to switch to prose and I will follow accordingly! Also warning for angst and Bruce being Bruce.
one. making the rounds. (courtyards, most of skyhold)
[Almost one week later, Bruce still can't quite shake off the entire incident from his mind. Or rather, he can't shake off the image of the dead mage in his head when he finally made it out of the garden, the poor soul gone for good after what Adelaide and the others had done.
He couldn't blame them, of course - they were only doing what was necessary, what was right - but all the same it still reminded Bruce of the reality of what he was and how people would perceive him if they ever knew the truth. The moment they knew... nothing would ever be quite the same, that he was certain of.
He tries not to dwell on it too much, but it continues to haunt him through the day as he does his daily rounds. Having denied himself the use of his magic save for that one time with Cole, Bruce is still healing from the injuries he suffered from the abomination. There're bandages around his head and arms and chest (although the last is hidden underneath his clothing) but Bruce doesn't let those get in his way, just as he doesn't let the occasional throb or ache of pain from his still healing ribs stop him from doing his work. Some of his more familiar patients do ask him about it, but Bruce is quick to brush them off and turn the attention back to themselves. They are all far more important than he will ever be, after all.]
two. fixing the garden. (the garden)
[With how things had been that night the abomination had more or less left a good part of the garden damaged. That, of course, included the herbs that had been growing, which was most likely going to cause some issues in the near future.
Still, at least its not like they're gone forever. Bruce drops by the garden whenever he can, helping to get the earth ready once more so that a new batch of herbs can be planted with the hope that they'll grow properly and without interruption this time around. It hard labor, yes, but at least the work helps Bruce to temporarily keep his mind off the more dangerous lines of thoughts that he knows he shouldn't dwell on. How long that works, though, is another thing entirely.]
three. midnight wanderings. (battlements and library)
[The thoughts never leave him, not really, and Bruce knows full well that he's going to have to deal with a good while of not being able to sleep properly. Sleepless nights are practically an old friend to him now.
That doesn't mean he will let himself waste his time - since he is awake he might as well make full use of what he has. On some nights he can be found on the battlements, brewing potions up there in the quiet that's only broken by the footsteps of the night patrol. On other nights he might in the library instead, perusing several books and if one manages to catch him at the right time, will see that it pertains to abominations and other such things related to them.]
wildcard.
[Feel free to throw in your own prompt or PM/contact me to plot out stuff!]
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If I die, then it dies too. [He's suspected as much, of course, but never did want to really come up to admitting it - but with everything, and now hearing this... Bruce supposes he can't ignore it any further.
He takes in a breath and closes his eyes, telling himself not to lose it. Nobody will benefit if he loses it just because of something like this.]
It's just doing what its supposed to do, isn't it? [Try as he might there's no way for Bruce to hide the bitterness in his voice. The demon was just protecting itself, keeping itself alive--even if it meant killing everything else. And Bruce survives because he's stuck to the demon. All the more reason why he shouldn't be allowed to live in the first place. There's no place in Thedas for a monster like him.]
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[It's speculation, in part, but it's also a mindset Cole knows about all too well. In fact, there's a germ of an idea there. If he could speak to the demon, try to turn it away from what it is...
But he tried that once before at Therinfal. Even if it might work, that would probably involve drawing the demon out. Best not to mention it for now.]
That — doesn't help. I know.
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Bruce bites down a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. None of this is what he came here for but he supposes there's no real way to avoid it, considering people like Cole and River around. He doesn't particularly like it, but he knows he can't ignore the huge demonic elephant in the room, as it were.]
It's-- [Useless? Futile? Pointless? All of them probably fit, but Bruce can't blame Cole for trying - as far as he can tell Cole has no bad intentions at all, and its hard to really be angry at that. Not that Bruce ever wants to be angry. Being angry only meant trouble for him.] --its fine. Don't worry about it.
[There are better things to be concerned about than a lost cause like him.]
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And Bruce did ask. But Cole's still going to be sorry the answer didn't help.]
You wanted to know.
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[And it certainly didn't help. Not that Bruce had expected it to, but still.
Bruce sighs once more and rubs the side of his face. There probably never is going to be any hope for a thing like him, but its not like he had been thinking otherwise. Any hope he might have once had was long crushed, and even the remnants scattered to the wind.
He glances back at Cole after a moment, trying to really look, to understand. These last few times he's spoken with Cole Bruce really has gotten nowhere closer to really figure out what he is. The main guess was 'spirit', judging from previous sessions, but spirits didn't look like real humans in big floppy hats.]
You-- [He starts once more, trying to find the right words to ask that won't end up insulting or anything.] How did you come here? From the Fade?
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[Not that Bruce can say its impossible, considering himself, but still. There's a fair amount of gaping holes that Bruce needs to fill up.]
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I followed the call. I found him. The templars had all forgotten, thrown him in the dungeon and walked away. I tried to save him, but he died. Dark, and then darker, and then, nothing at all --
I couldn't go back to the Fade after that. I didn't know how. I didn't even know what I was.
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There was a mage, and he called out to you as he was dying. And then you-- [Possessed his body? Something else? Cole does look like flesh and blood but he does a lot of things no human should be able to do--ignoring the fact that Bruce himself does a lot of things that humans shouldn't be able to do to. He hasn't been human for a long time already.]
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I'm not inside anyone. [To address the question of possession.] I'm only myself.
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(And on that, how long was Solas aware of this, if he did go to the Fade as much as he had claimed to?)]
You're a spirit, but you're also-- [He gestures uselessly in the space between him and Cole. Human, he wants to say, but its hard to say that word out. Who is Bruce to determine what is human and what is not? He's lost his right a long time ago.]
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—real. [Well.] Real-ish. Almost here. Not quite.
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[It's--well. It's illogical; there's no way that it could work at all but yet here he is, standing right before Bruce and speaking to him. It's incredible just as it is mystifying and perhaps, just a little bit terrifying.]
The name you chose--Cole. [His mind is quick to put the pieces together when he has them, and just as with earlier it clicks once more.] Was that the name of the mage?
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[But why is the question that's left unsaid, even though its probably all but audible in the silence between them. There's just so much that Bruce can't understand.]
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It was the shape that would help. He wanted to be himself, but different, a him that wouldn't have hurt anyone. It was the only thing I could do.
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--I see. [Or at least he thinks he sees. He sort of gets the general picture, anyway, which is probably the best he can do right now.] It's easier to blend in when you look like everybody else.
[To hide a tree, put it in a forest, etc.]
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[And to hide a mage, make him a surgeon.]
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I was never that good with it.
[Half a lie. He was adept with it, of course, but Bruce had never been fond of it. Staffs were for--battle and fighting and even from the beginning Bruce never liked that. If he had to be stuck with magic, he'd rather it help than hurt, to heal instead of destroy. He's already destroyed too much.]
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[Even if it was unintentional, even if he had no control... the sin of it still lies on his shoulders.]