open + closed | mistakes have been made

[thereneverwas]

WHO: Barrow + you
WHAT: catch-all
WHEN: the general Firstfall/Haring vicinity
WHERE: around the Gallows
NOTES: lots of Templar-relevant navelgazing. starters in comments, holler if you'd like one

Comments

[thereneverwas]

"'s not fair," Barrow remarks, "already got killed once, look where it's got me." He's trying to make light of it, but there's still a grimness to his expression as he looks into his drink, "...wouldn't mind lasting a bit longer, to be honest. With my mind. Such as it is."

[favoriteanalyst]

Mobius will let that making light of death settle where it intends to land. It's not something he wants to let his mind slip back to, and his mouth twitches a there-and-gone smile under the bristle of his moustache.

"If you want to..."

Stephen keeps whittling at him. But, Maker above, if they keep losing Templars and their abilities, Mobius might have to keep on it just to make sure there's still someone who can. That doesn't even feel like a nudge from Andraste. Just simple logistics.

He sighs and rubs at his face gingerly with a hand, making sure not to flex any digits to inadvertently poke himself in the eye with. "I can give you reasons to stay on, and I can give you reasons to get off, and at the end of the day, it's a matter of choice. If you decide that's what you want, I'll support you. Of course I will."

Because Barrow without his mind is something nobody should have to bear witness to. Least of all Barrow.

"But if it's a choice you want to make cuz the idea of the Order coming out swinging for your head scares you enough that you think going off will get them off your back, I'd say think about it a little longer until you've got some less jumpy reasons."

[thereneverwas]

Glancing at Mobius over the rim of his mug, Barrow sees that he's flustered, conflicted-- feels a little guilty about it, ultimately, but the voiced support causes that to abate somewhat. His smile is weak, sad.

"It's," he thinks a moment, to ensure he isn't lying, "...it's not that. I mean, that's a factor, but it's just. An excuse."

With a heavy sigh, he seems to melt back into his chair, and stares at his mug to evade the vulnerability of meeting Mobius' eyes.
"Only thing I've ever really wanted," he murmurs, in a moment of tired, raw honesty, "'s to live free."

[favoriteanalyst]

"Then you picked a hell of a life going to the Templars," Mobius says with a wry smile. Picks his mug up in a cheers and downs some. To live free.

What a thought.

"Okay. Freedom it is, then. You're gonna get your ass off the blue, and anyone that comes at you for it, you're still gonna have the rest of us and the rest of Riftwatch at your back." And that's that about that, as far as he's concerned. "You're gonna go to Strange and figure this out. Have you gone without for a while before?" Like, he's just gonna go out on a limb and think yeah, of course, but still. "It's not going to be fun."

It could be a hell of a lot worse than no fun.

[thereneverwas]

Barrow's returning smile is sad, pensive-- to the son of a devoutly Andrastian farmer, going off to join soldiers looked enough like freedom. Freedom from shoveling cow shit the rest of his life, at least, but in hindsight there's a gnawing thought that if he'd known what it really was, what it really meant, he'd never have left the farm.

"Couple days without," he confirms softly, "I know."