WHO: Solas, Six, Sidony, Ashen, you! WHAT: General character open post WHEN: Covering this month. WHERE: All over! NOTES: Free for all as I come back from hiatus.
"Those are the words of people with limited understanding of the nature of the Rifts and what the Breach means to Thedas, devoting themselves to the worship of a god that they preach has not visited them nor spoken for centuries." Not that Solas has anything against the Chantry, of course.
He pauses for a moment, lifting a hand to touch his forehead, pensive and frustrated before he speaks again. While he may himself struggle with the idea of people in this world being real, rather than dreamlike, he can at least muster the thought that Rifters cannot be too dissimilar to the natives of Thedas.
"I know spirits and I know people. I would be able to tell if a Rifter was more akin to one than the other."
On the back of the part where Solas goes off about gods and stuff, muttered into Tony's rosemary water as he brings it up to drink. Watching all the while, intent and interested in the unsettlingly focused way he can conjure sometimes. He wipes a little moisture off the rim of his cup.
That doesn't make any sense to him, especially since he loathes tea. Hm.
The question does make him pause, though, and he watches Tony for a long moment, considering. It would be rather unjust of him to declare all Rifters something altogether different from people, given his rather complicated relationship (romantic and otherwise) with some of them, but he still has his doubts.
He still struggles to imagine that half the people in this Thedas are real.
In spite of himself, the innate existential crisis they are discussing, amusement forces a smile to twitch to life.
"Awesome."
He eases back into his chair. "Doesn't help that we got a habit of disappearing tracelessly into the void at random. Is that a thing I should want to prevent from happening or do you think we wake up nice and warm in our beds back in Kansas?"
"To some, like many members here. To others, such as the Chantry, it is simply 'demon' or 'not demon'."
Solas is far too aware of the greyness between the lines, of what could be and what isn't. He's lived with it long enough, in a very literal sense: he is the grey between black and white.
At least Tony is a distraction for now.
"I don't know what Kansas is," he admits, frowning. "But I have no understanding of how and why it happens yet. It simply is."
Tony is silent, like maybe he is giving Solas permission to say 'just kidding' and expand on is answer. When this doesn't happen, he sniffs, looks aside at his notes, and pulls some of the loose leafs of paper more into focus between them.
"I'm conducting some studies," he says, switching track. "Ongoing. Observational, data gathering, probably a lot of reinterpretation that you'd find redundant." He's come around to forcing himself to think of this place as being more laterally situated to his home turf than olden timesy and quaint, in the same way Asgard has its own rules -- he's not here to colonise, preach sophisticated scientific methodology, tell them what they're about.
But he does seek to understand. And then maybe later tell them what they're about. "Anchor-shard interactions with rifts in different active or dormant states. There's some established methodology around measuring energy output of spell casting that I'm applying for want of better tools. If you're interested, I can sling some of the paperwork across your desk sometime. We're going out there on the regular, anyway, whenever a rift opens up locally, so, open invitation."
Solas does, of course, have a far deeper understanding than he might ever be willing to admit to; he knows more about the Fade than anyone due to personal experience, due to how deeply connected he is to the Veil, due to the fact that he feels it in his bones more often than not. He is not willing to share this, however; not with this man, not with anyone, other than those that had stolen his heart so terrifyingly.
"That is the most apt way." He does it himself, with artefacts and his study of Thedas and the Veil, learning more of this world that he had found himself in. He's the one who finds the Rifters, after all - he is beginning to understand the process better, beginning to wrap his mind around it and understand it properly, in a way he might never have had before.
"I would enjoy that," Solas admits, after a brief pause. "My understanding of the Fade and the Veil is deep, of course, but I have not had much time to investigate the shards and Rifters properly. I am, however, the best equipped to recognise the nature of them and to ease the pain and suffering of the Anchor shards, should that become necessary."
"They sting," Tony admits. Not very seriously, even if it's true. "And you have to wear a glove at night if you got-- you know, sensitivities. I'm a light sleeper. But, you know, our burden to bear."
The mental image of this man coming along to one of their excursions -- Tony yelling numbers, Wysteria yelling instructions, Ellis politely making polite inquiries while he smashes demons with a mace -- strikes him as funny enough that the corner of his mouth quirks up. Unexplained.
"But they can do some cool stuff. Guess a valid question is, the more cool stuff they can do, maybe the hungrier they get."
"I've heard it said," Solas admits, voice quiet. "I can soothe the ache and stop the damage from overtaking the body, but anything else is too dangerous to attempt at this point. We do require further study."
He thinks of the people that had suffered and died for their shards, people like Sina, who had hers too close to her heart. It's a dangerous thing, this game they're playing, and he knows that more damage will be done before Corypheus is killed and the Rifters are able to return to their own worlds - should they even have control over it.
Solas simply wants what is his back. This is a very long-winded way of achieving that.
"That may be the case. Overuse of the shard could have negative side effects."
Tony thinks to his little project he's working on, the lens contraption designed to augment the output of his shard to be used in combat. Of routine practicing and pushing the abilities its granted him, of the dozens of rifts he has closed and will close, and of the fact it is the only thing that snapped him out of his own fugue state enough to participate in the culture.
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no subject
He pauses for a moment, lifting a hand to touch his forehead, pensive and frustrated before he speaks again. While he may himself struggle with the idea of people in this world being real, rather than dreamlike, he can at least muster the thought that Rifters cannot be too dissimilar to the natives of Thedas.
"I know spirits and I know people. I would be able to tell if a Rifter was more akin to one than the other."
no subject
On the back of the part where Solas goes off about gods and stuff, muttered into Tony's rosemary water as he brings it up to drink. Watching all the while, intent and interested in the unsettlingly focused way he can conjure sometimes. He wipes a little moisture off the rim of his cup.
"And we fall into the people category?"
no subject
The question does make him pause, though, and he watches Tony for a long moment, considering. It would be rather unjust of him to declare all Rifters something altogether different from people, given his rather complicated relationship (romantic and otherwise) with some of them, but he still has his doubts.
He still struggles to imagine that half the people in this Thedas are real.
"More than you do demon, yes."
no subject
In spite of himself, the innate existential crisis they are discussing, amusement forces a smile to twitch to life.
"Awesome."
He eases back into his chair. "Doesn't help that we got a habit of disappearing tracelessly into the void at random. Is that a thing I should want to prevent from happening or do you think we wake up nice and warm in our beds back in Kansas?"
no subject
Solas is far too aware of the greyness between the lines, of what could be and what isn't. He's lived with it long enough, in a very literal sense: he is the grey between black and white.
At least Tony is a distraction for now.
"I don't know what Kansas is," he admits, frowning. "But I have no understanding of how and why it happens yet. It simply is."
no subject
"I'm conducting some studies," he says, switching track. "Ongoing. Observational, data gathering, probably a lot of reinterpretation that you'd find redundant." He's come around to forcing himself to think of this place as being more laterally situated to his home turf than olden timesy and quaint, in the same way Asgard has its own rules -- he's not here to colonise, preach sophisticated scientific methodology, tell them what they're about.
But he does seek to understand. And then maybe later tell them what they're about. "Anchor-shard interactions with rifts in different active or dormant states. There's some established methodology around measuring energy output of spell casting that I'm applying for want of better tools. If you're interested, I can sling some of the paperwork across your desk sometime. We're going out there on the regular, anyway, whenever a rift opens up locally, so, open invitation."
no subject
"That is the most apt way." He does it himself, with artefacts and his study of Thedas and the Veil, learning more of this world that he had found himself in. He's the one who finds the Rifters, after all - he is beginning to understand the process better, beginning to wrap his mind around it and understand it properly, in a way he might never have had before.
"I would enjoy that," Solas admits, after a brief pause. "My understanding of the Fade and the Veil is deep, of course, but I have not had much time to investigate the shards and Rifters properly. I am, however, the best equipped to recognise the nature of them and to ease the pain and suffering of the Anchor shards, should that become necessary."
no subject
The mental image of this man coming along to one of their excursions -- Tony yelling numbers, Wysteria yelling instructions, Ellis politely making polite inquiries while he smashes demons with a mace -- strikes him as funny enough that the corner of his mouth quirks up. Unexplained.
"But they can do some cool stuff. Guess a valid question is, the more cool stuff they can do, maybe the hungrier they get."
no subject
He thinks of the people that had suffered and died for their shards, people like Sina, who had hers too close to her heart. It's a dangerous thing, this game they're playing, and he knows that more damage will be done before Corypheus is killed and the Rifters are able to return to their own worlds - should they even have control over it.
Solas simply wants what is his back. This is a very long-winded way of achieving that.
"That may be the case. Overuse of the shard could have negative side effects."
no subject
Tony thinks to his little project he's working on, the lens contraption designed to augment the output of his shard to be used in combat. Of routine practicing and pushing the abilities its granted him, of the dozens of rifts he has closed and will close, and of the fact it is the only thing that snapped him out of his own fugue state enough to participate in the culture.
He raps his fingers against the table.
"Can't wait to find out."