faderift | OPEN: Kirkwail

WHO: Anyone
WHAT: Ghosts
WHEN: Wintermarch 20
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: OOC post. More content warnings than you can shake a stick at, probably, including allusions to slavery and violence in the body of the log post. Please use appropriate warnings in the subject lines for your own threads.

The storm sweeps in like an assassin: unexpected, in the dark, and throwing sharp pricks of sleet at exposed eyes and noses with expert aim and enough force to almost draw blood if the angle is right. Half an hour after the clouds crest the cliffs is all it takes for the city to retract indoors and huddle around fireplaces, settling in for a long night that will, unforeseen, turn into a long two days.

The Gallows, too, is pelted with ice; the walls of the cliffs and the fortress protect much of it from the worst of the wind, but when it can find a path over or through the walls, it slams through windows or doors to scatter papers and snuff out fires.

In the dark, in the rain, hurrying between towers or already accustomed to jumping firelight casting strange shadows and the wind howling like a wounded animal, people might be forgiven if they don't notice at first. But there's a hanging in the courtyard, a dozen translucent wisps of bodies dangling from the idea of nooses, and there's a girl's voice in the basement of the templar tower screaming for her mother, and there's a ghostly man in the library holding the blade of a knife to his palm and whispering this is it, this is it—or maybe there isn't, actually, when you lift your head to pay closer attention.

But as the night wears on they multiply, and they brighten, and even if you haven't noticed them, they begin to notice you.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Um. So." She exhales, and then speaks very evenly. "I know we're between appointments, but I'm symptomatic. It looks like I coughed up a fair amount of blood in my sleep. I feel, um. Not bad, not great, but some of that could be anxiety or..." ...something else. "I thought it made sense for someone to take a look. You know what my baseline is by this point."

He keeps his face neutral for her sake; she's working to stay calm and he won't disrupt that.

"It does make sense." Quickly he picks cat-Isaac up off the cot and deposits him on Isaac's desk before gesturing there. "I'll take a look and see how you're doing. Make yourself comfortable?" As comfortable as someone worried about their illness getting worse can be.

She nods and comes to sit. It's oddly normal, this; she's gotten used to medical care in Thedas by now, and it's helpful to go through the gestures of situating herself on the cot. She's breathing easily enough now, concentrating on keeping it slow and even, but focusing on your breath is a bit of a fraught centering practice when you're waiting to start coughing.

"I haven't changed anything major, diet or anything. I might have a little less physical activity because it's winter, but we're still in a place literally made of stairs, so."

"So it's not like you've been sitting around doing nothing," he finishes with a small smile. Not like her resting more would be a bad thing, but as he's not certain it will really help he's not going to suggest it.

Anders closes his eyes and casts as they're both used to, healing and waiting to see how it feels. A minute or two later he's opening his eyes again, shaking his head, as he stops casting.

"I'm not feeling any abnormal response. Everything seems to be at your normal." He looks past her, thinking for a moment. "Has the cold changed anything previously? I can't recall it being a large issue in the past, but perhaps back home there was more bleeding with temperature shifts?" It had to be something. They just had to pin it down.

"I hadn't been sick long enough at home to track the difference, but I haven't noticed anything here in Kirkwall, or back in Skyhold. Once I started the spirit healing, I've been pretty steady except for when I get, like, injured or sick in unrelated ways."

The fact that everything feels normal is, in some ways, reassuring. But she also doesn't know what to make of it.

"I suppose I could have a separate infection, but that seems really unlikely if I feel well otherwise. Most non-magical sicknesses I know of, you feel pretty shitty well before you get to coughing blood." She glances at the hand with the anchor shard, absently frowning.

He nods as she talks, leaning back in his chair, thumb tapping thoughtfully against his bottom lip until he follows her gaze.

"Is that hurting more? It..." Anders trails off. It had affected Sina's heart, but had that been because her heart was naturally weak, or the location of the shard? Could it worsen any natural illness or condition? He makes a mental note to ask Solas what he knows about that later. "I agree about most illnesses presenting additional symptoms, so if the shard has been acting up in new ways, or increased ways, you should say."

The shard is a variable that it's hard to account for, that's certainly true. She glances at her palm. "No, I haven't noticed anything particularly different with the shard, though I suppose there could be something going on at a level I don't notice. I usually make a note if there's been a change."

Of course she does.

"I wish I could do some real diagnostics here, there's a lot I just don't know. But I think at least... if you're not sensing anything unusual, that's probably a good sign, inasmuch as it means I probably don't have a secondary infection. And I haven't been coughing since I woke up, so at least there's that."

OPEN: Kirkwail

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