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WHO: Gideon Wheelwright and yooooouu
WHAT: He is here, and everything is happening too much.
WHEN: Just after the Dream Event
WHERE: around and about the Gallows
NOTES: Content warnings, OOC notes, links to other relevant posts, etc.
WHAT: He is here, and everything is happening too much.
WHEN: Just after the Dream Event
WHERE: around and about the Gallows
NOTES: Content warnings, OOC notes, links to other relevant posts, etc.
I. To the Patients
People have been coming in and out all day, complaining of strange dreams and lost sleep. There seems to have been some kind of massive shared experience among everyone who didn't spend the previous night in a firetrap inn on the Lowtown docks, and Gideon is becoming increasingly, visibly exasperated by the number of people who apparently have nothing wrong with them but a little fatigue and... what. Hallucinations?
"What did you eat before you went to sleep? ...did you all eat the same thing?"
He's listening to their heart, whoever they are, his head against their chest.
II. To the Healers
"Is it always like this?"
He's back to mixing tinctures in a quiet moment, continuously shaking his head at the madness that the day has brought.
"Like have things-- do these things happen often? Where they affect everyone? Magical things?"
He narrows his eyes at his nearest colleague, his expression both shrewd and imploring.
III. Misc
Whether inspecting the cafeteria, surveying the beds in the dormitories, or just wandering about the island, Gideon has a lot of exploring and acclimating to do. He has the pale look of a man in completely over his head, but doing his best to keep any uncertainties shut away deep inside.
II.
"The Veil is paper-thin here. In Kirkwall, and particularly in the Gallows. So spirits affect us more."
In other words, yes.
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Gideon straightens, eyeing Colin incredulously. "Isn't the whole purpose to prevent more Rifts opening?"
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A bewildered scoff.
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ii.
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"By 'touched by magic', do you mean the Rifters?"
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Frowning, she reaches for a notebook.
"In most cases, yes."
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"I'm Brother Gideon. Have you been here long?"
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He blinks at her, intrigued. "Related to the head diplomat?"
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"Yes. He is my husband."
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"Did you come here together?"
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She hasn't forgotten, not really, but some events of their marriage she tries not to think about.
"Isn't he wonderful?"
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It's somewhat heartening, meeting a married person so clearly happy-- not that he has any designs on romance in the near future, but it's the responsible and committed nature of their relationship, perhaps, that gets his approval.
"Other than overhearing him on the crystal, at least."
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"I'm sure you will get to meet him soon. He is quite active in his duties."
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Gideon's not in a hurry-- the man sounded grating and melodramatic, but there's no reason to say so to his wife.
"Is there a particular way people like their potions arranged, or may I reorganize them?"
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Because Sidony is not going to let a conversation drop without praising her spouse at least one last time. Looking over at the potions she waves her hand absently.
"I don't think people care as long as their personal items aren't disturbed. Is there a problem with it?"
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Looking back to his things, it seems that may have been a dismissal.
I
He shifts a little at the overfamiliarity of a man's head to his chest. This is not Edgard's first choice when it comes to healers.
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Which has already failed, but here they are.
"Have you felt any different from yesterday?" he asks, straightening again and immediately preening at the side of his head that was against Edgard's chest.
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"Are you asking me if I feel different after we all had our minds abducted and had a bunch of weird dreams that felt like they lasted a month?"
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"...yes. That."
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"I do feel different. Feel like I used to when I didn't eat for a great many days and had to do a lot of running? Except much worse."
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"Well, don't usually sleepwalk. So probably something to do with the dream?"
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The Veil is thin, and a single dream left the entire organization exhausted.
"So, as I understand it-- the things you saw in your sleep. Everyone else saw them too?"
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He blinks at Gideon.
"Not you then?"
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"Where did you come from?"
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"Ferelden."
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"Don't suppose you saw any of us asleep?" Edgard shrugs.
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Stepping away, he stokes the fire.
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"Are you just cold or--" He looks warily at the poker.
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"Fires go out," he explains flatly, "if you don't tend them."
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"The fire's doing fine," He observes. "What are your thoughts on the patient?" Edgard is trying not to come off as annoyed, but he may or may not be successful.
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"That is not really an answer."
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"Is there something else you wanted to discuss?"
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"Just wanted to know how my health was. But, clearly you're not going to tell me."
He stands up.
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Your health is fine."
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