(closed) She thought that I'd be wiser

[dashing]

WHO: Herian & Wanda
WHAT: Two people who have/had magic and are very chill
WHEN: vaguely end of year
WHERE: Kirkwall (Lowtown, perhaps a sprinkling of other-towns)
NOTES: Heads up for Tranquility (starts off with violence towards a Tranquil)

The balance of cost and benefit that Lowtown has seen since Rift Watch's arrival was ever at risk of being violently swung to the negative. Objectively speaking there had been many good intentions, much effort made by a good many of Rift Watch, and yet, how great an impact had been made was not so easily measured. How many more came to Kirkwall from Starkhaven, from across the Marches? What resentments were stirred by those not directly aided, or even those that were but still lost loved ones to the violence and chaos that Rift Watch's presence drew here? How much energy could rightly be given to resolving the systemic issues of Kirkwall when a war spread across all of Thedas?

All this would explain why Herian is surrounded as she is, and the thin thread of blood rolling from her cheek. The rock opened the wound lies nearby, others near by that didn't meet their mark.

Her voice is quiet, as taciturn and empty as her expression.

"The Tranquil are an outlet for your ire for which you will face no opposition. However, your concerns and frustrations would be better articulated--"

Another rock cuts her off, joined by others. Herian has raised an arm to partially shield her face, but lacks the urgency of a fighter, or the tension of fear.

Comments

[explosion]

Her hands glow red, but Wanda curls her fingers into her palms to calm herself. Thedas was nothing like New York or Scotland or Sokovia. The Avengers could get away with too much. Hadn't she been warned to play nice?

She was always warned to play nice. Sometimes, the warning didn't stick. Right now, she's trying to make it stick. It'd be easy to wipe all those gathered around the young woman turn to ash—perhaps with a click of her fingers!—but Wanda doesn't play that way anymore.

Although her magic flushes through her hotly, she risks a stone as she quickly squats by the young woman, wrapping her fingers tightly around her elbow. She doesn't draw her arm away to uncover her face as she suspects those throwing stones anticipate. She shouldn't try to shield her. She should walk away. Pietro wouldn't walk away.

Wanda peers up at the small crowd and shakes her head. "We throw rocks now? Whatever happened to using words? They're more hurtful."

Her eyes glow red. Someone close to her bristles. That probably wasn't the best idea, but Wanda's trying her best to be on her best behaviour as hall monitor.