ic inbox;; drift fleet

[fantachetic]

Comments

[fantachetic]

I shan't.

[veilstrike]

Oh, no. I've dropped my device.

[fantachetic]

I'm in grave danger and need help.

[veilstrike]

Shame.

[fantachetic]

So you lose your device for that, but the moment I reply, you seem to find it once more. How peculiar.

[veilstrike]

I've forgotten how to read. I no longer understand what you're saying.

[fantachetic]

Festis bei umo canavarum

[veilstrike]

You know very well I don't speak Tevene.

[fantachetic]

Then it's just as well, isn't it?

[veilstrike]

Translate?

[fantachetic]

you'll be the death of me, roughly.

[veilstrike]

At least you'll die having fun.

[fantachetic]

Precisely how I'd like to die.

action.

[veilstrike]

[ Leilani has been asleep for a few days - not that she's aware of course, but it's true all the same - and when she wakes up her head hurts. There's an awkwardness that settles over her, and she wiggles her arms a little before... Ah. She can feel the loss of the one with the Anchor, weightless and phantom limbed, and even the sudden rush of memories of the Fleet aren't enough to dampen the thick weight of knowledge. She had gone back, and Solas had been there, and she had lost so much.

Slowly, she pushes herself up, using her one hand to rub at her eyes absently, trying to make sense of suddenly being thrust back into the strange world of space travel. ]

... Dorian?

action.

[fantachetic]

[ He was assured that she would wake up, after it was clear she wouldn't under her own power- this sort of thing was common in the fleet, though it feels anything but. Instead, Dorian keeps a near, constant vigil over her, sitting on his own bed pushed up against hers, or in the uncomfortable desk chair on his side of the room, eyes glancing upward at her every so often. Just in case, he told himself.

The first few days passed in much the same fashion, she breathed, stirred a bit, but nothing would wake her. Books kept him occupied enough, and he was loathe to leave her in the off-chance she awoke while he was out. Nights were rather sleepless, caught worrying rather than sleeping even though common sense told him all would be well. One such occasion that sleep does take him, it's broken not long after it starts like something from a nightmare.

With a scream.

It's a blood-curdling, painful thing that lurches him upward and fills his stomach with knots and makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. What he sees is even worse. Leilani thrashes about, screams ripping from her throat and the arm that has the anchor is an acrid, pulsing green. Not only that, it looks like the arm is melting, though there is no smell of burning flesh and nothing left- it simply vanishes before his eyes in a macabre display as he tries to collect her in his arms to keep her still and rouse her.

His plan backfires painfully when she expels magic in all directions, knocking him across the room and throwing him bodily into the desk in the surprise. As much as he should have expected something, he was blindsided. He's only got himself to blame. The screaming stops as he's slumped in the corner, gathering himself enough to just get back up when he hears her voice calling out to him. ]

Leilani.. [ The one word is breathless as he heaves himself up quickly and moves to her side. Ignore the way his hands tremble as they grasp her one remaining hand. It's nothing! ]

action.

[veilstrike]

[ If she had any clue that Dorian had been watching her - watching as she suffered, as her hand got worse and worse, as her arm faded into nothing as Solas did... Whatever it was he did to her - then she would be feeling even worse than she does already, and Leilani is hardly feeling particularly good. She's sore and tired, aching, reliving the pain of losing her arm as if it was just moments before, and she lifts her hands to press her fingers into the stump, the sleeve hanging down beside her. She'll have to adjust her clothes, she thinks, make sure to tie them in knots to save herself the hassle of a sleeve fluttering in the wind.

It might look rather interesting, but she doesn't think it'll do her much good.

It's still difficult to wrap her mind around seeing and understanding what is happening, but there's a hand in her own. There's only one person who would be sitting by her side like this, and when she shakes her head and gets rid of the awkwardness hanging around her shoulder she shifts, reaching for him and squeezing her fingers around whatever part of him she can feel. The relief of having Dorian back at her side, the sudden loss of the weight that was gripping her chest... There's no way to describe it, and she feels a little clumsy as she tries to pull him closer, desperate for something to hold onto her, something to ground her with the flood of strange and awkward memories mixing together. ]

You're here. [ The relief is so evident that it makes her feel a little bit like she's going to fall apart, or risk something just as dangerous. When she moves she almost falls out the bed, wishing she had another hand so she could hold on to him while touching his cheek, assuring herself that he's real, even as pain pulses against the loss of her arm. ] Thank - [ She cuts herself off; there are no Creators to thank anymore, is there? Instead, she breathes out, sharp and sad. ] Dorian, what happened?

After Alistair's broadcast

[reluctantbastard]

[Yeah, he doesn't waste time leaving the lab to find Dorian in the bridge. He knows that he hasn't heard the full story of what happens in the future from Riona, but he thought he knew enough.

Mages and Templars fight. Innocents suffer. But here's Dorian saying that something happens in Redcliffe. After what occurred during the Fifth Blight, Alistair is more than just a little sensitive about the place where he grew up.]

Dorian, I'm here. And I have more than a few questions.

[fantachetic]

[ Dorian is exactly where he said he would be, spinning his chair so that he can sit in full view of Alistair, crossing his legs. He's aware that he's more than a little biased when it comes to the treatment of mages, but he concedes that they'd gotten in over their head.

Forging an alliance with Tevinter wasn't the best of ideas for them, but when backed into a corner as they had been, what other choice did they seem to have? He'd been in the future that they stopped from happening, and by all accounts it would have been disastrous.

Only it hadn't been because he and the Inquisitor were there to stop it. ]

Yes, I imagine you might. I presume that it is in a future that has yet to happen for you.

[reluctantbastard]

[And yet, Alistair knows absolutely nothing about that. All he knows is that Ferelden has just calmed the fuck down for a bit when he was pulled from the palace. And then there's the whole thing with Riona telling him about why Anders, Justice and she had fallen out.

He hadn't thought to ask beyond that point.

The fucking future.]

You would be correct. When I left, the year was Dragon 9:32, so there's a lot I don't know about.

[fantachetic]

Nine years of missing information, to be exact. I didn't come to Ferelden until much later than that, but I can give you what information I have. I am not entirely certain of the dates of these occurrences, mind you.

The rebel mages were offered sanctuary in Redcliffe, which they would have been foolish to ignore. That was before the explosion of Conclave, which you can imagine strained relations between your mages and templars.. Some of the refugees they took in happened to be of the Venatori-- a bit of a fanatical group of my countrymen who serve Corypheus. There's no way they would have known this, of course. I assume they started to encourage an alliance with Tevinter before the arl happened to be run out of the village. It makes the most logical sense.

I can only imagine that conceding to the alliance with my former mentor felt at that time to be the only option. A rather foolish mistake, as he was well aware of the Venatori, and followed Corypheus for his own reasons. He used the time magic we had created to beat the Inquisitor to Redcliffe.

[ He waves a hand in dismissal; it's not an important part of this particular tale, and another conversation entirely. One that he doesn't wish to have at this exact moment, either. ]

Now, there is where the Inquisitor comes into play. Redcliffe was where we met- I followed Alexius, though he'd no idea I was in the south. Rather a smart move on my part. Had he been aware, nothing good would have come of it. I knew of his plans- he tried to recruit me for his Venatori back in Tevinter, you see- I declined. Their outfits were ghastly, and I'm not particularly one for cults. Too much blood magic for my taste.

When we confronted Alexius about his plans, he once again used the time magic, using the Breach as a conduit, which sent the Inquisitor and myself one year into the future- a future that would have been the end to Thedas. Corypheus had taken over everything, so naturally, we couldn't allow it to come to pass. Once we corralled Alexius, I used the amulet to create a counter-spell for what he used to send us to the future, putting us back where we had initially been in 9:41 Dragon. Of course, we thought we had all but washed our hands of the situation..

Which is when you decided to show up with armed guards to banish the mages from Ferelden. The Inquisitor, big heart that he has, offered sanctuary to them instead, but I can only imagine what would have befallen them if he hadn't. You did not give the impression of mercy.

action

[veilstrike]

[ It's a few days after her evening with Justice that Leilani finds her way back to Dorian. It's a familiar routine now, changing into some clothes that are far too big for her - a mixture of his and a shirt she may well have stolen from Justice himself. She slips into his room and makes her way over to his bed, immediately sticking her hands up under his shirt just in case her entrance hadn't woken him up. ]

Dorian...

After Ander's Announcement about Fenris - In Whichever Bar

[universal_charm]

<sub>[ Hearing Ander's announcement had been like taking several punches to the gut. Wolfe had been a friend, and Fenris... well, if he was perfectly honest with himself, he had come as close to loving Fenris as he had anybody. They had been lovers, friends, and he had cared for the other in a way he so rarely let himself. For this reason.

For this aching, throbbing pain in his chest, the boiling anger that had no real target, no real outlet. Screaming did no good, and he was to much a captain to let such emotion show. Besides, what was the point? He couldn't do anything about it, and it wasn't his fault. It was no one's fault. It was just life in the Fleet...

At some point he had found himself at the bar, calling for a drink, nursing it because drinking away his sorrows was probably not productive, but damn if it didn't sound like a good plan. Even if the bar was pretty empty... ]</sub>

[reluctantbastard]

Conclave? Explosion? Magisters in Ferelden?

[If Dorian thought Alistair's brain might explode before, it's nothing like it is now. His head is swimming and he feels like he can't breathe.]

Magisters in Redcliffe...

[fantachetic]

Yes, there was an explosion at the Conclave. Divine Justinia is dead, and the only survivor was the Inquisitor.

[ He waves a hand in dismissal. Honestly, they act as if no one has ever been assassinated before. ]

Correction. One Magister in Redcliffe, and he was dealt with.

action

[fantachetic]

[ They've been staying in one of the houses on the planet, and being all together like this while also having different rooms has been pleasant. It's strange having his own room again, but Leilani certainly needs her space while attempting to get closer to Justice. He's been floating between sleep and wakefulness when his door opens and disturbs it. Instead of turning to see who it was, he tries to stay settled and comfortable, which was his mistake. Fingers as cold as death press against the warm skin of his back and he lets out a startled gasp. ]

Vishante kaffas, why are your hands so cold?