EVENT: TRUTH BOMB

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone
WHAT: TRUTH BOMB
WHEN: Bloomingtide 15-17
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: OOC information. Use appropriate content warnings in your subject lines, please.

It’s an ordinary day—so not a very pleasant one. The weather is dreary and muggy, and the day’s lunch is a soup that’s a little too watery and bland. The griffons are being their usual level of noisy and swoopy. The work is its usual level of urgent and difficult.

But in the storage rooms, something wiggles. Then it hums. Then it pops.

Outside of the storage room, there’s no actual sound, no shift in the wind, and no visible sign of a change. But the pop might be felt—like the moment something finally clicks, or two ideas suddenly fit together, except the opposite. In the heads of everyone in the fortress, something is suddenly not connected quite right.

The first sign of what’s gone wrong is that someone immediately stands up and tells the cook how bad the soup is.

A lot of people’s days are about to get exponentially worse.

Comments

Anders (open, far-to-middling)

[justice_is_blond]

[A - Open, Gallows Infirmary]

The first sign that's something a little off comes while he's petting Isaac the Second and looking through his notes. The cat attempts to eat one of the sheets of parchment and Anders sighs.

"You're supposed to annoy Isaac and mess up his things, not mine, you know. You're cute, but you're not nearly fluffy enough to get away with not being useful." As it's all entirely true, Anders thinks nothing of it and goes back to working.

[B - Open, Mess Hall,later]

That something's actually wrong, in the air or the water or the food, seems a reasonable enough thought at this point. That Anders isn't the one ranting at people is a surprise to him (and probably others.) But because somehow he's calmer than many, he's going around and trying to talk some of the more angry down... when they're not angry at him. Those are the ones he's working very hard to steer clear of.

A quick "would you like to talk about something else?" or "how do you feel about cats?" seems to do the trick in most cases.

[C - Closed to Flint]

He absolutely can't blame a few someones for trying to escape the sudden restriction to the Gallows. Frankly, Anders is more than a little tempted to try to swim for it himself. But that's not what's brought him to the docks... yet. Right now, a rowboat steered by an inexperienced, panicking duo has tipped over and dumped said duo into the water, and the male of the pair is shouting that they can't swim. So into the water Anders goes, heading for whichever one is closest.

[D - Wildcard me]

[ooc: Want something else? Hit me up - toss up a prompt, or poke me on Plurk (Nadat) or Discord (Nadat#4647)! I'm gonna be looking to not get him in fights this event just because Thor's picking them everywhere, but I'm up for just about anything else.]

B

[altusimperius]

"I don't know what's happening," comes the miserable reply, when asked if he wants to talk about something else: Benedict has been waxing poetic on why the food here is inferior in every way to what his family's cook (a slave) used to make, a topic that he seemed to recognize as troublesome, but still couldn't stem.

[justice_is_blond]

"Breathe, first of all." Benedict sounds absolutely upset, and Anders urges him toward a nearby stool. "Breathe, relax. I'd not be surprised if someone's herb and potion experiment went awry and it wound up in the bathwater or some such nonsense. This doesn't seem to exactly be harmful. Distressing, certainly. Clearly. But we'll get to the bottom of this."

He's not exactly worried... but he's also not exactly the most secretive of people. There's not much that he's holding back.

[altusimperius]

"That would be nonsense," he sighs, resting his chin on his hand and shaking his head. "Nonsense we've all come to expect from this place. You'd think things would be more secure." As he looks down at the table, it becomes clear this is something of a Bene Feels Sorry For Himself Time.

"Not that real security has ever been a priority here."

[justice_is_blond]

"It was exceedingly secure once," Anders says, very very dryly. "Back when mages were slaughtered here, and then before that when elves were slaughtered here. I, for one, prefer to live in fortresses one can escape."

He scoots the tray of butter closer to Bene in case he wants it for bread or something. He doesn't know. Food helps with awkward conversations but he didn't exactly stack his plate full enough to share.

"So what's really on your mind? Because I doubt it's security."

[altusimperius]

"I don't want to think about mages being slaughtered, for once!" The words leave Benedict too quickly for him to stop them, accompanied by a flash of anger that he also can't put a lid on; he nearly knocks the butter off the table with the jolt of his hand, but quickly gets a handle on himself and shakes his head.

"Sorry-- I'm sorry," he grumbles, "we could all die at any moment, but I suspect I'll be among the first."

[justice_is_blond]

He raises an eyebrow but says nothing. For once might mean that Benedict actually thinks about it sometimes, and that's actually more than he'd expected.

"It's all right. If it's any consolation, I share the sentiment. I've no protector here anymore with Nate gone, and still there are plenty of people that want me dead." It costs him nothing to admit his obvious vulnerability. "On the other hand, I find the mess hall fairly defensible. Toss the tables over and you've got some sort of barricade, and between you and me we could rain down a decent amount of magic on any invaders. I've even got Grey Warden stamina on my side."

It's a fair amount of babbling. Benedict is clearly on edge and probably could use a little rambling right now.

[altusimperius]

He thinks about it fairly often, especially in context of himself: Benedict is not well-liked, and he knows it. Being threatened in a way specific to mages even once is impossible to forget.

He almost smiles when Anders tries to reassure him, but just as quickly shakes his head. "I couldn't," he says before he can curb it, "I'd choke. I choke every time now."

[justice_is_blond]

Anders' expression goes serious.

"If you'd like to tell me what's going on, I'm here. I've some... experience with lingering issues after things go to the Void and back." He'd wanted to say he'd some experience treating others but while that's true it's apparently not accurate enough. "On the other hand, if you don't want to talk about it, pick something else and we can talk about that."

Best not to ask directly, right now.

A

[indissection]

"You could be a little kinder to the rat, seeing as you're the one that dotes on him."

Sidony is looking as regal as ever, swanning around the infirmary with something like weariness on her face. She doesn't want to admit some of her suspicions, but she's feeling somewhat out of her depth; she would never have called the animal a 'rat' in front of Anders before, but...

Stepping around, she leans over him.

"How fluffy does one have to be?"

[justice_is_blond]

He looks at Isaac the Cat in shock and leans in to gently protect his ears.

"Pay no attention to that. You're a cat. You may not be majestically fluffy, but you're a cat and that makes you special." Only then does he look back at Sidony. "To get away with things, cats must have enough fur that you can tell when spring arrives by the fact that there's suddenly fuzz on everything at the very least. Are you looking for an estimation of how much cat fur you'd need to paste on to your arms to get away with everything?"

"Grab a stool, have a seat, catch your breath. I take it this mess is giving you a headache?"

[indissection]

"It's been a nightmare, truly. I haven't dared speak to any patients in case I accidentally tell them how rotten their breath is or how much I'd rather not be looking at whatever strange boil or sickness they might have found themselves suffering."

Sidony does not mind being a healer, of course, and she recognises how to treat people, but her true affection will always lie with surgery, with looking inside the body of people, making notes, learning about anatomy, the makeup of it, how it all works. She is desperate to prove herself in that and it's obvious.

Sighing, she almost flops down beside Anders, looking quite petulant.

"I'd quite like to lock myself in my room until it's all over and done with."

[justice_is_blond]

Anders leans over and puts an arm around her shoulders briefly in a sort of greeting-hug before giving her room. He has no desire to hear anything about how he's unwanted or an annoyance and being too friendly might set that off from anyone.

"We've no idea how long that might take. Best to try to think about things that would be helpful to say and hope nothing else spills out. However, if there's a patient that comes in that you truly don't want to treat because you might say too much, you can come find me. I apparently can't lie, but it's not as bad as it is with other people who seem compelled to talk."

Though with how much he talks naturally, there might not really be too much of a difference.

"The crystals have been... amusing, in some ways. Though I suppose you've got to be careful. Too much truth can be painful sometimes."

[indissection]

Sidony, at least, doesn't do anything to move away from his embrace or his touch. Instead, she leans a touch closer, seeking out the warmth and the companionship that she is being offered. When he leans away she sighs and stands a little taller, doing her best not to lean on him too much. That's just as risky.

"I'd rather cut out my own tongue, frankly." There's nothing that Sidony is willing to simply admit to people, especially strangers. Anders is one thing, and perhaps a cousin or two, and Byerly, but... She looks nervous, something twisting in her stomach before she forces herself to settle down and relax.

She looks nervous, more than anything else.

"Amusing, I suppose, apart from those that have been forced to suffer it. I'm quite tempted to hide away in my room and pretend none of this is happening."

[justice_is_blond]

"You're welcome to hide here. Most aren't coming down here except by necessity, thanks to this, and I'm rather efficient." He flashes her a small smile before waving her closer. It's clear he's not unwanted.

"I'm definitely not going to recommend cutting anything out or off. Or hiding, for that matter. You're already feeling like you have to hide a part of who you are. Hiding yourself as well might make you feel worse." A short beat. "And if anyone comes in I can talk about something else, easily. I've always more to say on mage freedom and equality and rights."

[indissection]

"Efficient at hiding secrets or efficient with your work?" Her brows raise, just enough, but at least it gives her an excuse to come over and make herself comfortable, half draped over him as she now is. It's a familiar feeling and she accepts it, pleased and content, leaning against him and sighing softly.

"I'd rather you speak as little about mages as possible, honestly," and there's no fire in her voice, exactly, but a layer of tension that she can't quite hide. "They're not my favourite topic - not because I hate them, but I'd prefer not to think about it at all."

[justice_is_blond]

Anders snorts. "What secrets? What I'm afraid of is well-known, what I'm capable of is as well, what I dream of is also publicized. Speaking of things you'd rather I not speak about. Everything in my life does tend to tie back to that, though, so you'll have to pick the topic if you care to avoid, well. Everything me."

He's lightly amused as he talks, though a little more stiff than he usually is when she drapes on him.

what is a pirate's favorite letter

[katabasis]

The least they could have done was take the most care worn of the Inquisition's meager fleet of smallcraft instead of one so freshly reseamed, sealed and painted. If the intention was to drown themselves in the harbor and take a boat with them, there's a perfectly rotted out wherry right there for the taking. In which case, if there's any reason to be jumping into the harbor saving anybody, it's at least half in the interest of beating them senseless upon their rescue and return to solid ground.

Flint's in said aforementioned rotting wherry, the coil of rope he'd thrown over his arm still there about his shoulder as he hauls on the chipped oars. Even in first dregs of summer, the water is bone chillingly cold and it won't be long before it overwhelms even the most competent swimmer. Which is why he's cutting not straight for the two idiots floundering near the upturned shell, but instead for the single minded swimmer coursing out toward them - anonymous in the fever of the moment and the hack of the dark current.

"Two points to--," he starts to call. For fuck's sake, no one in this forsaken place knows starboard from either moon. "Swimmer, on your right! Take hold as I pass and I'll tow you out to them."

He's cutting very close with the rowboat, pulling once and then angling the heavy oar free of the water to slice over the swimmer's head as the boat pulls alongside.

[justice_is_blond]

For a moment, it sounds like someone is keeping a perverse score. Two points to whomever takes the longest to drown? Two points to best faces made while struggling? Then instead there's something helpful being yelled and he forgets the game.

The boat comes near and Anders grabs it, grateful that he doesn't have to swim the whole way.

"Thanks for the lift." A glance upward sends an eyebrow upward for a split-second before it's back down. Of course it would be one of the people with ships that thinks to grab a boat, and also is good at rowing quickly. "Come here often?"

They're getting close now and Anders doesn't wait for a response before he's letting go to get an arm under the woman's shoulders, pulling her in and up as much as he can to the boat. Once Flint has her he'll be getting the man and doing the same thing, but possibly with a few curse words as the cold really starts to hit and hurt.

[katabasis]

You, isn't the most charitable thought to have in the middle of a rescue attempt but it's the one that occurs to him regardless.

And then there's little time to think of much else save for seeing that the rotted old wherry's excessive leeway doesn't drive the boat into the very people they're meant to be rescuing - that the woman he first hauls in over the side doesn't capsize the craft as she comes aboard. "Stay there," he's saying to her, a reinforcing hand to the shoulder keeping her down in the bottom of the boat even as Anders cuts out to fetch her companion. The last thing they need is for her to crowd the edge in some flash of panic and--

He has the second attempted drowning victim up and over the gunnel with one great heave once Anders has him close enough. Both of them look like drowned rats in the bottom of the boat, coughing and spluttering incoherently. "Roll that way. Counter balance to get him aboard, you imbeciles," Flint is snarling as he reaches again, grabs Anders by his arm and the neck of his soaked shirt, and begins pulling him into the wherry.

"Can you row?" Is the first thing he asks, even before he has the man fully in the rowboat.

[justice_is_blond]

He hadn't expected to wind up in the boat as well, but it's certainly not a bad place to be even if the breeze is chilly.

"I escaped an island fortress seven times," he says cheekily, 'helping' get himself in and trying very hard not to upset the boat. There's no need to re-dunk their rescued people. "Which is to say I'm excellent at swimming and passable at rowing, even better when my life depends on it."

Flint looks disgruntled. It could be Anders. It could be that it's just Flint's face, which Anders thinks likely as he's never seen another expression on the man, but that doesn't lessen the urge to tease a little. Once in he's carefully scooting his way to the oars, very aware of how flimsy this little boat looks.

"Is this boat-- actually I don't want to ask that." He can't lie, but thankfully he's not as bad as some seem. This is not the time to panic the pair by asking if the boat's actually water-worthy. Instead he takes the oars, raises an eyebrow, and starts slowly rowing, guessing that Flint's probably intending to get the other boat to shore. It looks far more valuable than this one.

[katabasis]

"Good. I need you to keep this boat exactly where it is right now. Do not let it drift any closer. The last thing I want is to be smashed between the two of them."

He's already stripping out of his coat and hauling off his boots. The coil of rope gets reclaimed, arm shoved through its circle. One end is passed through the wherry's combing and knotted. "I'll be right back."

He steps up onto the bench, somehow managing not to sway the overloaded boat in either direction in the process, and then launches himself over the side into the jetty chop of the harbor.

[justice_is_blond]

That... is far more of a challenge than he'd anticipated. Getting something going takes a little work and then momentum can help. Keeping something in place? Anders nods, though, and watches Flint carefully. Not smashing Flint takes second priority, as not hitting the man with an oar takes first.

The water's choppy, the spray is chilly, and the couple in his boat are now starting to complain. Instead of snapping at them, Anders channels his energy into sending a burst of rejuvenating energy Flint's way.

[katabasis]

The water is dark and running, the Waking Sea's current swirling here in late Spring eddies. It's a testament to Anders's swimming that he'd gotten this far; that the two drowned rats in the bottom of the wherry managed to keep their heads above water is practically miraculous.

But he won't think to give them any credit for it after he's finished wrestling the capsized boat upright. It's a tricky thing: finding the right angle, using his weight and the catch of the sea and the line to dredge it slowly up onto its side. Don't go over, he thinks as he clings to the combing. Not just yet. If it rights immediately, it will be as a bath basin filled with water and sink immediately.

"Haul away!" This shouted at Anders in the wherry once he has the line secured. "Slowly!"

[justice_is_blond]

For the briefest of moments Anders is tempted to row toward the non-Gallows shore. There is basically no time when freedom isn't calling to him, and when curfew's imposed it's all the louder. But he's worked so hard to get a fraction of respect and right now, somehow, this organization is still the best shot for mages to stay free once Corypheus falls. So Anders puts his weight into rowing toward the Gallows instead, now hauling another boat behind him.

"Slowly is as fast as I can go!" he hollers back, because what's physical effort without talking? Then it occurs to him that it doesn't have to be such a physical effort. With a quick cast of Haste he starts to move at a decently steady and slow pace toward the shore.

By the time they've reached it and Anders has convinced the woman to toss a line to the dock so they can be secured, his arms feel like rubber and he's fairly certain he looks enough like a wet dog that every Fereldan is honor-bound to love him on sight. He contemplates just staying in the boat that might decide to sink at any moment and seeing what happens before clambering upright, climbing out, and looking over at Flint.

"You looked like you've wrestled boats in the water before," he says tiredly.