florescences | anders catchall

[ he'll let her do it without complaint or flinching, simply watching her do it and gently adjusting if he thinks something needs changing - only wincing slightly every once in a while. ]

I imagine you must lose a lot.

[ being that old. ]

I've lost and gained much, but many of those were a long time ago. Yours are much fresher.

[ a half-shrug. ]

It's not as if Justice is new. Some part of me has been around for centuries. Longer, probably.

Will you tell me a little more about Justice? In some ways... you speak of it as the concept. In other ways, you speak of it as an entity.

[ she can't read metatext. ]

I'd like to learn more about you, if you'd let me.

It's both.

[ yeah it probably would help to clear it up. ]

He is spirit of the Fade. The Fade is inhabited by demons and spirits, who reflect the worst and best of our sins and virtues. Fear, Pride, Sloth. Wisdom, Faith, Love. They will seek to embody these ideals, be created and formed by them. Strengthed when they are fulfilled and weakened when they are denied. Most of them are fascinated by our world, crave it in some way or at least want to know more of it. Demons will seek to possess mages, either through force or trickery, take over their minds and puppet their bodies. It is one of the things we are trained against, and part of the reason people fear us so much.

We met a long time ago, when I was with the Grey Wardens. He was infuriating. Frustrating to talk to, stubborn beyond all measure. Brave, and true. Maybe brave is even the wrong word. He does not know fear, so there is no other way for him to be. I was afraid all the time. It's why I ran so much, from everything. He asked me once why I did not fight for the Mages and only helped myself, and I had no good answer. He was the first person to hear about the mages and react only with a desire to see justice for them instead of fear or doubt. He was my friend.

At the time, he was trapped outside of the Fade. A blood mage had torn him from his home and left him here, in the mundane world, with only a corpse to inhabit. We agreed that ... a willing host is different than an unwitting mage. And he is a spirit, not a demon. We could help each other to do the things we could not do alone.

[ you had that ready so fast.

once she's finished bandaging his fingers, she gently holds his hands, if he lets her. ]

It sounds like you and Justice have been through a lot. The both of you were trapped and found a way to connect. I don't know if I can call it balanced, but I do not doubt your friendship.

Is seeking justice what sent you here?

[ doing something they could not do alone. ]

[ well, perhaps unshockingly, lots of people are askin' "hey whats up with the insane glowing guy" as of late so its best to be prepared ]

Yes.

[ gesturing vaguely with the hand that isn't being bandaged. ]

I don't know how much you all could see, but-- I destroyed the Kirkwall Chantry. I killed the Grand Cleric Elthina. But it was the only way forward for the mages. The Templars would never release their grasp, and the Mages would never act without provocation. The Chantry sat between them, offering nothing but toothless compromise, promising the The Maker would move as he saw fit.

The Maker is an absent god. We can only help ourselves. Justice would not be given, so it had to be taken.

It was a magnificent sight.

[ magnificent is not always good, but elysia takes this talk of murder, mass or not, in stride. ]

You were aiming for a revolution, or at least a change, no matter the cost. I've never felt strongly for justice, but I can understand it.

I can't dislike anyone for doing what they thought would better lives or for feeling so passionately.

It was necessary. I do not regret it.

[ pulling his hand back at this point, clenching it to test the flex. ]

Hawke executed me for it.

[ that creates a new perspective. ]

What a cruel twist this place has given the both of you. [ ... ] Were you happy with him, Anders?

[ there is something about elysia's questions that kind of provoke honesty. or at least make him feel he needs to provide an explanation. ]

Yes.

[ but. ]

I wanted him for seven years. I didn't think he wanted me in the same way. Or the timing was not right, or I was too involved with my goals, or he or I would say something the wrong way. But he could have chosen me at any time. I don't think I could have ever denied him for long.

I think I am ... easier to deal, as someone dead. But I am not really someone who can be fixed, or changed, or made to live a normal life - even if we are given a second chance. I will always be who I am, and I don't know that he wants that person when I am alive.

[ oh, that makes her heart ache. she understands it, saw the destruction symbolized in the execution, but it doesn't make it any less heartbreaking. she knows especially about being someone who can't be anyone other than who they are now. ]

You should be loved for who you are, Justice and all, at your worst and your best.

[ if they won't take him at blowing up the chantry, they don't deserve him at naming cute cats. ]

I can't speak for him, and I won't ever try to, but if I were him, I'd accept you as you are and make a place for you... alive or dead.

I don't know where you'll be at the end of this, but I hope you'll be able to reconnect with him somehow. You deserve more peace.

anders catchall

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject