hawke more or less slumps against the ever-suffering
abomination/ex-warden, plucking her detached tarsal
from a pocket and gesturing vaguely at her right foot.
"cast your ice spell on this, please.
i think i’m about to pass out.”
she is not bluffing.
”you’re a piece of work, hawke, you know that?”
a sigh, and then anders finds himself practically
dragging hawke back into the clinic; he perches
her upon a stretcher as best he can before
plucking the appendage nimbly from her grasp,
immediately…working his magic, as it were.
he kneels, and a minute passes, and then one
more—healing hawke isn’t like healing children,
so he opts not to fill the silence with idle chatter.
”i'm nearly finished, just hold very still a moment.”
and then, after a minute’s worth of concentration,
finger wiggling, and glow-y blue stuff, bloodied
digit is attached once more. anders produces a
rag from his robes, wiping his hands. he rises to
his feet, then, but not before delivering a couple
of reassuring pats to hawke’s knee.
”there were are——the color will stay weird for
a while, but other than that, you’re set! might
be time to invest in a new set of boots, though.”
ᴘʟᴀʏʟɪsᴛ ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ
babebanner said: Playlist title: “a pretty girl, a decent meal, and the right to shoot lightning at fools”? A bit long but
"Now that’s an exquisite robe.”
”do you think so?”
”i am fond of the feathers…”
This is the first time he’s ever seen a mage outside of the
free outside of the Circle. The only other time he’s seen
one away from the Spire was the journey to Pharamond’s
makeshift laboratory to save him from the demon.
He recalls that fairly well, and memories of
their traveling group floods his memory,
splaying names with faces over his mind.
Wynne and Rhys.
Adrian and Evangeline.
Even the big rock monster.
There’s no time to think of them.
However, during that entire thought, he’s been staring
at the man from the doorway, probably blocking others
who needed entry. A funny thought, really, when someone
tried to enter and instead ran into a man that just magically
showed up in their way.
For a moment, he’s forgotten how he even got there, the
pain in his feet reminding him that he walked all the way
from Val Royeaux just to see the sights of other places.
Worth it? He has not a clue just yet as to if the trip was.
Cole seems amazed by the setup of the interior,
eyes trailing along the walls and build, right back
down to the man he is now standing not even five
feet away from. Discouragement settles, and he
immediately feels as if he won’t be noticed.
with the mage underground crushed in the wake of
meredith’s increasing brutality, anders is preparing
for the worst—and while he still offers his services,
his clinic no longer bustles with activity as it did once
upon a time. currently, pages of his manifesto are
scattered haphazardly across the same gurneys that
used to cradle the ill and injured.
the mage strides with purpose, pacing to and fro.
there’s something troubling him, that is true enough,
but the presence of a spirit nearby gains his full
attention, leading the healer to tense up immediately.
jaw is set, but he ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ look.
it will leave.
”why have you come here?”
swallowing hard, anders turns his attention to the
wall, tracing with his gaze years of weathering in
the red banners that still remain hanging. he won’t
call the presence a spirit out loud, because there
are a few people still around, but he thinks his tone
has made it clear enough who he’s speaking to.
’ ah— ‘
she shuffles a bit awkwardly,
tail brushing up a small cloud
’ the correct term for it is khajiit—
but yes. i do know i’m a cat. ‘
brows furrow. that’s certainly new.
”what kind of illusion is this? you just walk around
this way wherever you please, staff on your back
like it’s nothing? are you trying to get caught? the
magic in you isn’t like anything i’ve sensed before.”
he recalls ferelden tales detailing apostates—
witches—living in the korcari wilds. they’re said
to be shapeshifters, and he wonders if this mage
might be one of them.
the reaction sends her back a foot
or two, a slightly confused sound
her expression right now is
basically priceless, and she
turns as if seeing if there’s
anything behind her.
’ what? are you okay? ‘
”me? i’m fine. you——”
he’s at a loss for words, really. there’s no telling
what kind of magic this is, and quite frankly, the
former warden isn’t too sure he wants to know.
”…you know you’re a cat, right?”
she reaches to gently
tap him on the shoulder;
’ pardon me, sir— ‘
the mage turns fast on his heel and
he’s not sure how he ought to react.
”maker have mercy…”
there’s no reason two can’t play this game (it’s really more surprising that anders has deigned to play at all). hawke walks (alright, hobbles, but it’s rather well-hidden) to the clinic door, pokes her head out, and shouts:
“sorry! our apostate friend here says he can’t help you! also, he thinks you are personally unattractive!”
how very dare she. grumbling under his breath, the healer
storms across the clinic—he seizes her arm and tugs, an
attempt at dragging her back across the hovel’s threshold.
”that was a joke; toes last days if you put them on ice!”
a frown, and she shakes her head from side to side as if to gauge it, one hand surreptitiously sliding into a pocket.
"we’ll say twenty minutes.”
"it’s still warm.”
”twenty?” tone is incredulous, as if that’s absolutely absurd.
”i'm sorry, hawke—but there’s nothing i can do.”