(no subject)

[formerslave]

| characters | Fenris & Open

| date/time | Evening, April 19th

| location | Entrance

| rating | Some warnings of scars and abuse.

| summary | Fenris does not approve of this place.

The wooden floor of the tree was hard, the wall uneven and rough. Yet he still leaned to it, his lkarge green eyes following the bright light in the middle of the room as if it could give him any answers. He was tensed, uncomfortable all the way down to his core, and there had been no lies to avoid, no battle to fight.

Just a ray of light... and that gem.

Wings. A dream to some, an enhancement worthy of a magister, to conquer the skies the sky itself. Not to him. To Fenris, it was nothing but a joke, a cruel reminder from someone with lousy humor. He had been so disgusted, seething in silence at the mockery of those markings. There might be no lyrium in them, but the pattern was a perfect match.

You're still flawed, scarred, branded.

Anger was easy. Rage was comfortable to turn to, and he had sent the gem flying towards the wall of the room, hoping it would shatter; maybe release the illusion from his mind. It proved quite impossible, however, and it didn't matter how many times he threw the gem away. It somehow returned to him again, and it was more than a little disconcerting.

It made his skin crawl.

Whoever put him here weren't showing themselves, which had the elf even more on edge. He didn't like being alone. Not any more. Hawke had already been gone for a long time, and he didn't want to be trapped in this illusion when the mage came back.

He wanted to be free.

Comments

[dissemblance]

[She makes a point of hanging out near the entrance when it's roughly time for the new arrivals to show up. It lets her scope them out, ascertain their skills and - in the event of people from home - get them up to speed on everything that's going on.

She's Anna Orlova today in full force, cheerful and warm. Fenris gets a smile after the most recent toss of his stone and its subsequent return, and she gestures to it with one hand. No visible wings, but she's wearing the leaf tunic today. Even spies have laundry to do.]

I think we've all tried that a time or two. Never sticks.

[formerslave]

[There. Finally.

...yet she's not what he expects at all. No mockery, no laughter, no threats. No speech to grate at his nerves, promising this and that to be done to Hawke, or any other of his friends.

No chains.

Just a smile and a off-handed comment. Dressed in leaves.]

What is it?

[He demands, cracks in his calm composure, gauntlets curved into half-fists to keep himself back, to not grab his sword just yet. Fenris shifts his weight, bare feet hard against the floor; ready to fight or run.

He expects more, he expects shadows in every corner and he hates it.]

[dissemblance]

[Her stance shifts, just slightly. It becomes more open, and she keeps her hands visible and her expression soft. She knows how to play at vulnerabilities she lacks, and people - men, especially - always feel more secure when they think a woman lacks in claws and sharp teeth. Yet she thinks, despite the bravado, he may well be afraid. It's enough that her sympathy is genuinely felt rather than genuinely faked.]

Loaded question, cowboy. I wish I knew.

[formerslave]

[He's... mildly off-set by the 'cow boy' comment, trying to figure out what it is supposed to mean. In the end, he dismisses it.

There's no change in his guard, no ease in his stance even as she changes hers to be softer, kinder. The elf isn't overly impressed. Merril was the most naive and open girl he knew, but she was still a blood mage. Still dangerous.]

...and this place? Whatever you want... it wants, I'm not surrendering.

[dissemblance]

Right now, the only thing I really want is a manicure.

[She flashes her hands, the nails are chipped and hangnails galore. She's no stranger to roughing it, but it's been a while and the work she does with her hands is-- different, generally.]

I don't know what this place wants. Why we're here. I was brought here, same as you. A little more than a month ago.

[stormcalling]

[Valamia didn't enjoy the wings either but it was clear it didn't bother her half as much as it bothered him. She watched him throw it a few times before she finally pushed herself away from the wall she'd be so content on leaning on. She approaches him without any concern or fears for the others anger being misdirected. In fact she's looks fairly casual, unfazed visibly by the whole situation.]

You know, I don't think that's going to accomplish anything. If it was going to break it would have done so by now.

[formerslave]

[Qunari, he thinks at first, watching the horned woman. But the color is off, the eyes are off... the hooves and tail doesn't belong.

His hands clench, his stance changes.

The only other thing she reminds him of is a demon, and he could imagine the sweet voice, the tempting offers. This, too, does not belong as he hears her normal voice, her casual mention of his gem-related issues.

No mockery, no promises.]

I don't want it.

[stormcalling]

I'm sure what any of us wants really matters here.

[There's a touch of sarcasm in her words. It isn't meant to mock. It's a fallback method for her and in a new world it's easy to rely on sarcasm.

But she can't ignore that change in his stance. He, like some others, could easily mistake her for a demon. She takes a short moment before she considering trying to find something positive to say. Ultimately though she's new too and her level of information isn't much higher then his when it came to what was going on. All she had to rely on was instinct.]

For what it's worth none of these seem to contain or be corrupted by fel magic. It should spare anyone from becoming a demon. Ideally.

[formerslave]

[Fenris watches her, weighing the words. She said it wasn't any dark magic, but he had no reason to trust her. However, the way she mentioned demons throws him off again, confusing him.

She could still be a demon. It could easily be lies.]

It is magic. Only the intent matters.

[Unless it was blood magic.]

[stormcalling]

[Well, he was a little ray of sunshine. The benefit of age was one thing that kept her from growing aggravated or even remotely concerned. Although something about the way he said magic did tug at some nerve, deep down hidden away. She remains neutral in her expression. Even if she wanted to argue over magic it would serve neither of them any good. Best to remain on the more civil side.]

I'd disagree that only intent matters but that's neither here nor there at the moment. What does matter is being capable of adjusting to the situation, magic involved or no.

[finallyfallen]

[Rage is easy isn't it? It makes him wonder why he tried so hard not to just give in and curse his fate sooner.]

You'll need those to get from place to place. Throwing them does no good.

[He'd not cared much for his own wings and really only uses them when necessary as he does most of his abilities, except Zagan. He can't move his left arm or legs if he sets the metal vessel down. Though the Djinn's control extended only as far as the wooden limbs as far as he's aware.

Judar tossed his Amber enough that Hakuryuu's decided that it's pointless to try. If Judar hasn't broken it, it's probably unbreakable.]

[formerslave]

Magic comes with a price.

[Another person, odd-eyed and young. Probably easily amazed by these things.]

I'm not paying it. Not like this.

[Not with those wings.]

[finallyfallen]

Everything comes with a price.

[It's how he lost his limbs. Why he's got his scars.Life exacted a price, while demanded they do nothing about it. Stupid in his mind.]

It all depends on which your willing pay.

[Though in some areas he's paid more then enough. Probably why he fell, tired of just going through the motions, accepting everything thrown at him like it never mattered.]

You'll be stuck on this floor. I've only ever seen anyone fly to and from the openings.

[He doesn't particularly care. It's just worth mentioning.]

[formerslave]

I just said I wasn't willing. There's nothing as free powers.

[He shifts again, watching the boy.]

Magic corrupts. I can feel it affecting me every time I get close to that light. I'm not going to let it addle my mind into surrendering for this.

[finallyfallen]

That stream of Light it is is concerning.

[He doesn't like the sense of calm that falls over him. He didn't want calm he wants the rest of his revenge, though it's going to have to wait for now. Magic isn't the only thing that corrupts, but that feels like it doesn't need to be said. Being corrupt isn't necessarily bad. Like being "Fallen".]

It's probably responsible for us being here, or at least involved somehow.

[redactions]

[ It's an unusual sound in the tree, and he peers in while passing, watching Fenris for a few short moments. ]

You haven't tried throwing it out yet.

[ #helpful ]

[formerslave]

...I would if I could find an out.

[Stuck down there at the entrance, the only door he could see was the one with the unbreakable spider web.]

[redactions]

[ In reply, he moves over to a side of the room which has an outcrop leading upwards to the branches. ]

Here, pal.

[formerslave]

[Looking up, the elf frowns again. There was no way he could reach that other floor from the entrance.]

That's not going to help me down here. I'm not using these wings.

[redactions]

Fair enough, [ he says, genially. ] in which case, there's other floors upstairs and out towards the meadow, if y'like.

[sirpisspot]

[It didn't take long for Arno to hear all the noise and see what the commotion was all about. Little to say that he found a man pounding on the door and wasn't sure if he was relieved or still concerned.

Only one way to find out. Arno got close enough to not have to yell to be heard, just in case this guy was a looney toon and made a charge at him or something.]

You know, monsieur. You'll soon hurt yourself doing that.

[formerslave]

[Fenris backed off a bit, jaw tensing as he watched the unknown man. That voice... he sounded Orlesian. He could deal with Orlesians.

His hands formed fists, body shifting to a more defensive stance. Gritting his teeth, he watched Arno as if he expected him to lunge at him.]

It's only a rock.

[sirpisspot]

[He noticed the stance and remained calm, he wasn't actively looking for a fight after all. The Not!Orlesian held up a hand, signalling peace. Of course, if Fenris attacked anyway, he had the weapons. Let's not go there. Arno just fought in a huge battle. No need for another with a new tree resident. Scary that he was here for a month already and he could be considered one of the veterans by this point.

This place was filling up fast. That was a different concern for a different day. Time to deal with this guy.]

And this is only a tree, yet here we are with all of this. Nothing is as it seems around this place.

[formerslave]

['Anna' had taken the worse edge off, but he was still ready to fight at any moment. The more people he met, the more they seemed to be using those wings, and he couldn't let his guard down because of it.

Those gems might not just give wings, but suggestion as well, and despite how tense he was, he didn't exactly want to fight a tree full of brainwashed people.

A tree. It's still hard to believe it.]

I'm not surprised. Magic has a tendency to do things like that.

[sirpisspot]

[Trust him, it took a while for Arno to get a feel for the wings. Let alone, accept they were there.]

So you know of magic too, then? Color me surprised whenever I hear any who does.

[Small talk, alright? Small talk.]

I feel mad thinking of it merely existing in such a way.

[Alrighty then, here it went.]

My name is Arno Victor Dorian, a resident taken from my homeland as well.