thehometree | (no subject)

| 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.

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[There we go.]

All right. Wait here?

[Well, he's probably not going anywhere else. One final smile, and then she steps away from him and pulls the night gem out of her pocket. At the touch of her skin, she gains a set of red-black wings, and after a few light steps she tosses herself into the air. She manages a curious sort of grace to her flight that suggests more than just a month's practice with the wings. Anna Orlova, she'd decided, has a ballerina's grace. Easier to hide in plain sight.

She's not gone long. Enough to gather up some food and a blanket. She steals a pillow, too, from her own quarters and makes her way back with the bundle, which she holds out for him as she lands. The food is wrapped up inside the blanket in a small leaf.]

[She uses those wings so easily and it makes the hairs of the back of his neck stand on edge. It was graceful but... unnerving. Everyone here seemed to accept magic like it was nothing. Where was the caution, the subtle fear?

Fenris isn't sure if he's actually waiting for her or just stubbornly loitering in the damn foyer of the giant tree like one of the nobles back at the viscount's in Kirkwall - but he looks up again when 'Anna' comes back. He was about to shift himself into a defensive stance once more when he notices the woman arrives with a bundle of things.]

...more than a blanket, I see.

[A bit of a smile.]

Just a little. You don't have to use anything you don't want to, it was more of a... 'just in case'.

[He... liked that. No pressure, but the choice was there. He could deal with something like that. It was easier.]

Thank you.

[He says again, not as tense, not as angry. Still haunted.]

[She also has a length of rope looped across her chest like a bandolier. That gets pulled off over her head (tangled briefly with her hair, it takes an honest effort to extricate herself) and held out.]

I've been making these in my spare time. If you need an air taxi you can just ask on the piece of amber in your bag, I'm sure someone won't mind helping. Helps to avoid the whole wing issue, at least.

[He reaches to take the rope, running his fingers over the woven material. This might be his saving grace to this place.]

I... why would you do this much for me? I'm a stranger.

Everybody starts a stranger.

[She fiddles with the hem of her shirt. To casual inspection it looks like a nervous tick, though it's nothing of the sort.]

And as far as I'm concerned, we're all stuck here together. The more we can figure out, the sooner we can get home.

Fair enough.

[There's a small hint of a smile, even if it doesn't fully reach his eyes.}

Thank you.

Not a problem.

[A cheery little smile-- though after a moment it turns wry.]

I don't have to sample the food in front of you for you to believe it's not poisoned, right?

I was just going to feed it to one of the insects, first.

[The slightly amused look in his eyes may mean it was a joke.]

[She rolls her eyes and, in a slightly exasperated tone,]

Fine. We'll have a tea party. You're lucky I didn't find a tiara, because you would definitely be wearing it about now.

[That was all mildly confusing, but he'll deal. In all honestly, he was getting hungry, but... he just couldn't trust. Not yet.]

I'll make do without finery.

[Instead he opens the food package.]

[She just scouts around for somewhere that'll be out of the way of any potential foot traffic and sits cross-legged in one smooth motion.]

Well you don't have much choice in the matter. There isn't much here. And I don't really think there's enough food to go around. It seems we're always short on something. My roommate and I, we-- ah, killed a squirrel a while back so we've got plenty of meat, [a nod to the package, there is in fact squirrel jerky in there] but without it-- we'd probably be going a lot hungrier.

[The elf studied the food, a bit confused when 'Anna' mentioned squirrel meat. So far, Fenris didn't actually didn't realize that he was tiny; large insects and weird places could just as well be part of the Fade, as far as he was aware.

He picks a bit of the jerky out and frowns.]

I'm not surprised. It forces conflict.

[She's still not entirely convinced they are tiny, just that everything around them is disproportionately large. Perception can be an asshole at times.]

So you think the purpose could be to make us fight?

Fight, or force us to use more and more magic until we are bound to whatever rules this place. Either way would be an amusement for our jailers.

[He tenses up a bit, memories leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. How many times had he seen slaves used as props in rituals meant to amuse their masters?]

[Speaking from experience? Natasha runs her tongue over her teeth, and then reaches for an oversized pecan.]

Well, there were those giant spiders.

They have those here, too? Kaffas, as if the mines were not enough.

[He's not exactly afraid of spiders, but they were annoying]

Giant spiders are the theme of the day, apparently.

[Which, you know. She finds pleasantly ironic. The pecan is turned over in her hand, and then she pulls a small knife - nothing lethal looking, just small and built for utility - out of her pocket and she starts out by cutting a piece from it, inevitably spilling pecan crumbs everywhere as she does.]

It got handled, though. I don't know how thoroughly, I sort of-- stayed out of it.

[Fenris watches her cut a piece of the pecan while thinking back to the spiders in the Bone Pit. He was... a little concerned about what would happen if he spent more time here. He might miss any letters from Hawke. (Not that he still wasn't damn mad at the man.)

Absently, he rubs the red cloth tied around his arm.]

Any other threats I should be aware of?