[Commentlog] Twelve Hours In (Open)
[It's been twelve hours of slipping in and out of consciousness, his back alternating between numb and burning at regular intervals. He's blacked out a few times, but the searing at his wrists and neck would bring him 'round rather quickly
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[He should be sickened by what he sees. But there's the advantage to working in the Darktown slums. To fighting with Grey Wardens. Nothing much bothered you after a while. All the beatings, all the wounds, start to blend together, and you stopped seeing anything but the damage. It made it easier to bear.]
[Anders doesn't speak until he's near the imprisoned man. Then he's kneeling, into Alex's range of vision. He forces his voice to be calm.]
Hold still. I'll do what all I can.
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He lifts his head slightly, hair stuck to the side of his face and sticking to the wound that circles his neck. He sights on Anders as the man comes into his range of vision, finally connecting scent, face and name. God, he hurts so much..
His brows knit slightly as the man tells him calmly to remain still, not knowing what exactly he has planned.]
What .. [He tries to lick his lips, but it does little good; his mouth is terribly dry.] Wha're you .. gonna do?
[Does he sound scared? Does he sound terribly young? He is .. and he is feeling very unprepared for .. everything.]
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[His tone is dry. He had to have mentioned it. Anders mentions it to everyone.]
[He moves around to the other's back, focusing on his magic. On the spells he knows better than he knows anything else. When he speaks again, he sounds distracted.]
A healer... to be precise. I'm going to do what I can for your injuries. Just hold still.
[It's going to take a lot of concentration, and some of Justice's help. But before long, tendrils of blue power flicker around his hands, ready to knit together the cuts and damage.]
You'll be fine.
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[His tone is apologetic and he follows Anders with his eyes until the Mage disappears from his line of sight. He grimaces as his wrists and neck twinge painfully against the burning metal, his heart rate increasing as he's unable to see what's coming.
He's scared. He can't see what Anders is doing and the last guy that stood behind him decided skin was way overrated. Buy Anders had said healer .. that was a good thing. Calm down, Alex.. breathe.
Even trying to deliberately calm himself comes up flat, his chest heaving and the salve only doing so much to combat the hurt. When the blue glow kicks in, unable to see the cause or anything specific, Alex trembles. His pupils are huge, a reaction to the fear and pain, but he really does try to stay still.. and calm. He's failing a bit, but he really is trying.]
Right. Right. Fine.
[He gives over to the Mage, not knowing what good it will do or what shape he'll be in afterwards. Beneath the fear, he's given up hope that it'll do any good at all.]
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[He doesn't actually touch the other man. He holds his hands a few inches over broken skin, still concentrating. He needs to do this quickly. It would be best, that way, in case a certain wraith was still lurking.]
[Even concentrating as he is, it's hard not to miss the panic and fear. Also understandable. It's not something he hasn't seen before, at any rate.]
... In my world, spirit healers are powerful mages. Short of death... there isn't much they can't mend. I couldn't stop... this. But I can help you now.
[He keeps his voice very level, very calm, no mean feat while simultaneously calling on Justice, and throttling him back.]
You'll be fine.
[With a deep breath, he lets the magic free -- to knit flesh, and mend the badly damaged tissue. It should be quick, with the amount of power he's gathered up. And he won't stop until those marks are gone. He has to do something -- and Hawke is right. This is his area of expertise. This is what Anders is good at.]
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His eyes burn at the determination and conviction in Anders' voice and he swallows around the knot in his throat.]
I .. I did it, Anders .. All of it .. can't remember .. but I did it.
[And then Anders' magic is washing over his back and Alex gasps softly. Warmth spreads across his skin, but it's not the painful burn of pain. Instead, it's a soothing warmth as skin begins to knit back together again. He shudders beneath that warmth, exhaling shakily. It moves quickly with the amount of power Anders has gathered and akin enough the only sign that he'd been lashed is the stain of blood covering his clothing and freshly healed, and now scar free back. Even the scars from his previous injury have been removed, along with those on ( ... )
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[But the sudden wave of fatigue pushes all curiosity out of his mind. The blue light flickers out and dies, with the healer sagging to his knees, gripping his staff hard to keep from falling over entirely. He should be used to it by now -- but it's still so strange to feel all your strength sapped from something that should take no effort.]
I... what?
[He's aware something was said. Just... not exactly what it was.]
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The glow of blue fades and he hears Anders sag to the ground behind him. His eyes flutter open as Anders asks him to repeat himself and he swallows, voice soft but audible.]
I did what they say .. [He exhales shakily, unable to see the mage where he is. When he speaks again, he makes himself speak louder.] I can't remember .. can't remember who I attacked or how badly .. who I killed.. It's all black .. Can't remember faces or what I did .. But it was me ..
[At the last his voice cracks. Bryn had not blamed him, but Sollux did .. who was to say that others wouldn't. And, to make matters worse, he confessed this to yet another man he did not know he'd attacked. :D A man that he'd attacked and that had just healed his wounds.]
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... You... what do you mean... it's 'black'?
[A possession? No, it couldn't be. Justice would have been able to sense another presence. A demon or otherwise. And there was nothing.]
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I don't have memories of the attacks. I .. I don't know if you have anything like us on your world, Anders, but I'm a lycanthrope.. a shape shifter. I can change at will, but on the full moon .. On the full moon I'm forced to shift whether I want to or not. I change and I black out .. I have no control over what it does or where it goes .. and no memory of it.
[His blue-green eyes are pained as he rolls them skyward, thinking on Sollux's words again. Was it acutally his fault? Did the moon have nothing to do with it?? When he continues, his voice is strained and thick with emotion.]
I killed someone and I've never done that .. and I hurt people .. those I considered friends. And i couldn't stop it .. and I can't remember.
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[Because magic is the only explanation he can think of for being able to change form. That, or demonic possession.]
[He's silent after that, though, looking down at his hands. Yes, attacking and murdering innocent people was a crime. But if you couldn't control yourself... And it wasn't possession. Was it possession?]
Is it a demon? A demon causing this madness of yours?
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Not a mage .. just a lycanthrope .. shifter .. Mages are different where I'm from .. closer to witches or wizards.
[God, his mouth was so dry. He closed his mouth and tried to work up some moisture and then Anders' next question brings his gaze back to the man again, now just in his range of sight.]
Infection .. lycanthropy is an infection .. got it three years ago .. It's the reason I can change form at all. But on the full moon .. the change is controlled by the moon .. its cycles .. I wish I could give you rhyme or reason .. just old wives tales. Never believed it .. not til it happened to me.
[He exhales softly, neck and wrists burnt and bleeding as he tries to make himself a bit more comfortable.]Any other time .. the shift is controlled .. I remember ( ... )
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[Maybe in your world, Anders. He falls silent again, listening. It reminds him, vaguely, of something. One of the stories surrounding the Hero of Fereldan. The Grey Warden.]
[No. It isn't right that people were killed. Maimed. But to punish a clearly repentant man for something he couldn't control...]
[His knuckles whiten around his staff.]
Are you proud of yourself? Had you been... conscious... would this have happened?
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However, Anders next question catches him off guard and he jerks his head up in surprise to try to look at the man. He ignores the fresh burn just beneath his hairline and his brows knot, stomach tightening in a mixture of shock and anger.]
Of course I'm not proud of myself! These were my friends! I wouldn't even take pleasure in doin this to someone I hated! If I felt that way, I would deserve far more than lashes and time in the stocks.
[He's not sure whether to feel insulted or just sick at the idea. Certainly there were those out there that did take this sort of pleasure from killing or maiming, but he wasn't one of them. His voice is soft when he continues, looking away from Anders.]
If I could control my shifting on the full moon, his would never have happened. It would never happen at all! I take no pleasure in harming others; least of all innocents that ( ... )
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[If he couldn't control himself, there was no need for this. There was reason to help. Not harm.]
Then this was just as much a mockery of justice as he'd said it was.
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