faderift | All we do is play it safe [Open]

WHO: Vanya, assorted visitors
WHAT: Vanya has a Bad Time getting off lyrium
WHEN: Various points during Kingsway (feel free to handwave relative to mod plot if you'd like your character to be there for a certain portion)
WHERE: Various points in the Gallows
NOTES: Content warning for themes related to (fantasy) drug use and withdrawal. Medical stuff possible but definitely not required, especially in the infirmary starter; if you want to hit that one but not have anything medical in it beyond what's mentioned in the starter itself, just let me know oocly and I can avoid it.

I. The Infirmary

Permission obtained from Commander Flint, Vanya approaches the infirmary staff with his intentions. He intends to burden anyone else as little as possible, and part of that is making sure the relevant staff know of his plans and have input (within reason) as to his approach. The upshot of this is that, despite his protestations, the early days of the process are spent in the infirmary, under supervision.

It's best that they insist. The cravings and the thirst would be hard enough to endure without the disorientation that accompanies them. Depending on which day Vanya gets a visitor or a colleague in the infirmary for their own reasons, he may or may not recognize them. But he does his best to talk to anyone who engages them, regardless of how lucid he is or isn't.

II. Former Templar Tower — Vanya's Room or Communal Lounge

Eventually, the confusion ebbs. He's still thirsty and tired, and his head is splitting more often than it's not, meaning he's not yet fit to resume his exercises in the training yard, much less his duties. But he's not bed-ridden. He can fetch his own food and move about the Gallows as long as he gives himself enough time and doesn't push himself.

Mostly, though, he sticks to his quarters or nearby. His instinct is to hide, but he doesn't fully give into it; if nothing else, the infirmary staff checks on him often enough that it feels only polite to leave his door ajar in case he falls into a doze.

He wonders, more than once, if someone would give him lyrium at this point if he said he'd changed his mind after all.

He doesn't ask. That said, he gives the impression of a man who would be grateful for a distraction. At night, his neighbors may be unavoidably aware that he's having nightmares, though that's not as rare in the Gallows as it might be.

III. Aftermath

One day he reappears, resuming his usual routine as if nothing had happened. Someone has cleared him, presumably, but he seems to be going through the motions in part by pure force of will. He seems a bit gray and peaky, but he reports for training, duty, meals, all as usual.

Occasionally, though, he finds himself staring into the middle distance, unsure why he walked into the room or how long it's been since the person sitting next to him at dinner last said something.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He turns, and the hand motion he makes is more acknowledgement that he heard the question than an answer, sort of an aimless circle. After a moment, he gathers himself enough to say, "I was in the infirmary," true, "but I'm better now." Given how he looks, only true if you strictly define better as "relatively to actively being in the infirmary."

"...thank you," belatedly. The delay is also a bit unusual for a man who is so meticulously polite.

"Better," Barrow repeats, with a bit of a sympathetic smirk-- if this is 'better', he hates to think what the poor bastard looked like before.

The absent-mindedness, the pallor, it all tracks with what he knows of lyrium withdrawl; he's been through it only once, against his will, but he knows it when he sees it.
"You got everything you need?" It's an open-ended question, but its intent is fairly clear.

Before this conversation, he might have said it would be easier, talking to another Templar about it. Someone with a frame of reference, at least. But the reality of it makes him feel exposed and raw, as if Barrow can get too close a look at him. He wonders, not for the first time, if he'd have been better off quitting and going into the woods to do this alone, and returning if he made it.

(He knows that's not how any of this works, but it's an appealing fantasy.)

"No way out but through," he suggests, subdued, his Nevarran accent perhaps a bit more marked in the face of his fatigue. "I will recover." Two statements, neither a direct answer to the question, though the first one is close.

And there it is, the missing puzzle piece: there's really only one thing that statement could mean, and Barrow winces as clarity dawns.

"Got balls on you," he remarks, ducking his head in a humble nod of acknowledgment, "wishing you the best. Speedy recovery, and all that."

Involuntarily, Vanya exhales a quiet and mirthless laugh at Barrow's assessment of his courage. "Yes, well. Considering the situation, I think it was overdue. But thank you for the good wishes all the same." He can, at least, muster the energy to be gracious about that; he has no doubt they're sincerely meant.

"The situation?" Hopefully Vanya just means 'Riftwatch' or 'mages being tetchy', but it seems worth digging a little, just in case.

He'd mainly meant the situation where he resigned from the Templars years ago, that feels uncomfortable to spell out. Instead, he punts: "Given the state of Riftwatch's relationship with the Chantry, the risk of being cut off from lyrium without warning a not an insignificant one, these days."

Also true, much less personal.

"Ah. ...true."

The thought of which makes Barrow's blood run cold, though he tries not to show it. A strained smile and a nod follows.

"Smart man. I'll... leave you to it."

"Thank you." For the sympathy, if nothing else. Before Barrow goes, he says, "I'm expected to make it." It's a bit anemic, but it is a joke. Whistling in the dark.

Barrow turns back and grins at the remark, giving a little nod of acknowledgment.

"Then I suppose you'd better."

All we do is play it safe [Open]

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