Room 322, Saturday Midday

[not_every_mage]

Anders' dreams had been worse than usual the last few nights, full of demons and the scents of mildew, stone and stale air he associated with the Circle. He felt haunted by them as he rose and prepared for the day. The island was up to something again, something darker than eggnog showers or aggressive mistletoe. You didn't need to be a mage to see that.

But it was one thing for him to know that, and quite another for him to suddenly feel a sting on his palm and look down to see blood welling to the surface. The sensation seemed oddly familiar, and he suddenly realized why he recognized it: They're making another phylactery.

Heat racing, he was staring stupidly at the blood when he suddenly heard Grand Enchanter Irving's voice. The man was trying to sound kind; he always tried to sound kind.

"There's no need to be frightened," he said, and even though Anders knew the Grand Enchanter was a world away he could still see him, clear as the first night he'd been at Kinloch Hold. "We'll heal you right up and get you into a nice bath as soon as we get a little bit of blood to keep you safe. And then you can go get to know the other children your age. They're all excited to have you here."

As he had five years before, Anders closed his fists tightly and struggled. His identification with his younger self was complete, as if it were happening all over again. Someone -- a templar, he realized -- was holding his wrists, and he was too small and skinny to get away. He compensated with a hard glare. This was wrong and mean and he didn't want this, he wanted to go home, he wanted to play with his friends and eat his mum's ram stew and see if his gray tabby had had her kittens yet and never ever go anywhere again. Not be here, in this strange place with these strange mages.

He prayed to the Maker to somehow lift the curse and free him from the burden of magic.

"He's not going to answer," the templar said in a clipped Marcher accent, interrupting the silent prayer with a jab of his elbow to Anders' ribs. (The Maker wasn't going to answer, either. He never did.) "Brat hasn't said a word since we picked him up. Best to just get this over with so he can go back to sulking."

"I hate doing it this way," Irving sighed, then looked across the room to address another enchanter. "Torrin, be ready in case things go wrong."

He waved a hand then, bathing Anders in a purple light that left him unable to move, and quickly picked up the bleeding hand and scraped a bit of blood into the prepared vessel. Anders watched in horror, as if it were happening to someone else. "See?" Irving said. The man even had the audacity to smile. "Now you're all set. Welcome to the Circle. You've got much to learn."

And like that, he was gone. Anders looked at his hand again. It was free of blood, but the tiny scar where he'd been cut for his phylactery kept tingling. He collapsed onto his bed and tried to wish it away.

[OOC: Open post. Thanks to DA:I for the inspiration]

Comments

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante shuffled in not too long after, looking some mix of confused and pissed off. He had a fresh bottle in one hand, and another in the other.

He squinted at Anders from the doorway, and winced.

"You want one?"

[not_every_mage]

Anders was dazed as he looked up at Dante, as if he didn't quite know who he was.

A moment later: "Maker, yes."

He didn't even care what it was. It would get him drunk, and that was the best fate he could imagine just then.

"Thank you," he added. "It's ... a day that calls for drinking."

[rebelseekspizza]

"So is any day ending in 'y'," Dante said idly, "But fuck yeah. Catch."

The bottle was some kinda mixed drink that'd taste strongly of something syrupy and sweet. He hadn't exactly taken the time to look too closely to what he was getting, either.

But it was getting tossed to Anders.

[not_every_mage]

"Mmm," Anders agreed mildly as he caught the bottle and cracked it open. "But it's extra true on days like this. With the island all--"

He waved a hand vaguely as he brought the bottle to his lips.

[rebelseekspizza]

"Going crazy down memory lane?"

Dante collapsed on his own bed with his own bottle. Why was being near Anders making him feel even worse? Because fuck, he'd almost been even-keeled before he came in.

[not_every_mage]

"You're getting it too?" Anders said, with some relief. "I was almost afraid it was just me. But yes. I just got a nice look at one of my least favorite nights."

He took a sip from the bottle. It was achingly sweet, which he appreciated.

[rebelseekspizza]

"Island thing. Just like the demons." Dante pulled the cap off of his bottle - another flavored drink he hadn't really bothered to check the label for - and took a swig. "And all the other shit."

[not_every_mage]

"There were spiders yesterday," Anders informed him. "Big, not little. So the island's having all kinds of fun."

He licked the cocktail off his upper lip. Talking and drinking, the as usual, had him feeling a bit steadier -- though the gnawing fear of the Circle still twisted in his stomach.

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante tended to channel most of his emotions into his two favorite ones, when he could at all get away with it; having this sense of fear in the air that he couldn't touch was fucking weird.

He put the bottle back to his mouth and took a much longer drink of it, swallowed, and wiped at his mouth. "Yeah," he said. "It's fucked up. We need even more booze in here."

[not_every_mage]

"Or we could go fight things," Anders offered, then frowned at the bottle. "Nah. Drinking's better."

Call him a coward, but somehow beating things up sounded less appealing than staying in his room and getting drunk.

[rebelseekspizza]

"Been fighting things since yesterday," Dante said. He shuffled up until his head was properly on the pillow. "I need a break."

He did feel tired. Just not in a physical way.

[not_every_mage]

And, dimly, Anders felt the same sort of tired ache. It surprised him, since Maker knew he hadn't done anything worth noticing that day.

Maybe visions took it out of him.

"Fight anything interesting?" he asked anyhow. "Or was it just demons?"

[rebelseekspizza]

"Mostly demons," Dante said. "Which shouldn't even fucking be out here. Couple of those spiders, some other shit."

He shrugged. "Don't even bleed, do they?"

[not_every_mage]

Anders frowned at him. "Which, spiders or demons?"

Not that he'd seen either bleed much.

[rebelseekspizza]

"Spiders."

Dante shrugged. "Just figured they'd bleed more, that's all. Not that I ever fought giant spiders before."

[not_every_mage]

"They're nasty things," Anders shuddered. "All legs and shell and bug goo. Not much room for blood."

He took another deep swallow of his drink. "Poisoned kind is worse. They spit stuff at you."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Ew," Dante decided.

He took another long sip. "You ever fight one of those guys?"

[not_every_mage]

"Only at home," Anders said, bit of a smile creeping across his face. "I burned it, which would have been fine except for how I managed to scorch my boots, too."

A shrug. "I was nervous."

[rebelseekspizza]

"First time fighting something?" Dante tilted his head towards Anders, raising an eyebrow.

[not_every_mage]

Anders looked sheepish. "First time fighting anything that wanted to kill me, anyhow," he admitted. "It ended up dead and I didn't, so I count it as a win."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Pretty sure that's what it says under 'victory' in the dictionary," Dante said. He dropped his arm behind him on the pillow and brought the bottle back to his mouth. "I guess you don't know any weird shit that'll keep this shit out?"

[not_every_mage]

"My life would be so much nicer if I did," Anders said, and sighed. "Sadly this time around I'm just as much a victim as the rest of you. All I can do is wait it out. And maybe set a few things on fire along the way."

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante stretched his legs out and studied the door.

"Well," he said, "Hey, at least if something breaks in, we'll be safe. One fireball right there--" he pointd at the door, "--a lot of things are history. Might need something harder for the demons, though."

[not_every_mage]

"That's why we have you," Anders said kindly. "Do you reckon they'd kick me out if I burned the castle down by accident?"

[rebelseekspizza]

"If they don't get this counts as 'special circumstances', fuck 'em," Dante decided, taking a big gulp of his drink.

[not_every_mage]

"Amen to that," Anders decided, with a hearty swallow of his own.

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante eyed his bottle for a minute.

Then he looked over at Anders.

"You been bugged by anything real shitty?"

[not_every_mage]

"Sort of." Anders considered his answer for a moment, then turned on his bed to be closer to Dante and held out his hand. He tapped a fingertip against his palm.

"Can you see the scar there?" he asked. "Don't feel bad if you can't. It's faint."

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante leaned over some, squinting at his hand. "...The scratch?"

[not_every_mage]

"It's not --" Anders said, then considered it. The wound had barely been more than a scratch even when it was fresh. "Right. The scratch. Got it when I was 12. They take your blood before they lock you up in the Circle, so they can track you down if you run away. I got to see that happen again."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Seriously?" Dante said, frowning at his hand. "That's fucked up."

[not_every_mage]

"That's life for a mage in Thedas," Anders said, and withdrew his hand. "If I don't like it, I should have been born without magic."

He raised an eyebrow at Dante. "What did you get?"

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante shrugged vaguely, leaning back until he was back on his own bed all the way. "First time in juvie," he said. "Real ball of a time."

[not_every_mage]

"That's jail for kids, isn't it?" Anders asked. "It doesn't sound like much fun."

[rebelseekspizza]

"Hey, that's any place they lock you up to do time when you're young," Dante said, because that was better than going into the particulars. "Anyway, it was short."

[not_every_mage]

"But long enough to mess you up."

Since it seemed it was that kind of weekend, and all.

[rebelseekspizza]

Dante held up his bottle. "Do I look messed up to you?"

To be fair, he treated more or less all of his problems with judicious application of vice.

[not_every_mage]

"No more messed up than I am."

That was a yes, Dante. You're welcome.

[rebelseekspizza]

"See?" Dante said, "We're both good."

Not the point to take from that, but y'know what, he was gonna take a drink and take it anyway.