[Alistair isn't the only one who has suddenly found an awkwardly familiar face among the pumpkins. Fenris was just funny. Hilarious even.]
[But then he'd stumbled upon someone else.]
[Someone he had all but buried nearly ten years ago. Not literally. That hadn't been possible. Someone else who... had died at his hand. Not Justice's. His.]
[He's in the process of staggering back from the pumpkin -- en route to bump, once again, into the other Warden.]
[This time, Alistair has no shield in hand to nearly bash the mage with. Both sword and shield are upon his back, leaving him free to hold out a hand as he says:]
Ande--
[The warning is too late, and the name doesn't come out quite in time.
[At least Alistair's balance isn't the sort to be affected by someone stumbling into him.]
[He doesn't step away; he can't be sure that the man won't simply stumble again and fall. And, as disagreeable as Anders is, he can't just let that happen.]
It's like something's dug into our minds and dragged out everything important.
[The question - "Is this person important to you?" - goes unstated. But it lingers all the same.]
[And just like that, his head whips back and forth, between the pumpkin and Alistair. If that little hair bob of his was any longer, it would probably smack the other Warden in the face.]
[He... stops. He looks at Alistair for a long, silent moment. Part of him is surprised at that -- he's a mage, the other Warden is a templar. And yet... he's saying things like that. To him.]
[But... maybe he shouldn't be surprised. As it vaguely occurs to him that this man had a hand in his own recruitment. Maybe he should -- remember there is no such thing as a just templar. There must be some ulterior motive -- focus on what's more important.]
I think our hosts have some explaining to do. Provided we're allowed to speak with them.
[And then he looks back to the pumpkin. His fingers curl around the staff.]
... But if it must be done, it shouldn't be drawn out.
[Would it? It's just a pumpkin. It's a vegetable. He said as much himself.]
[But this one... sounds like Karl. Looks like him. It could only be worse if it were that little girl. Except maybe he shouldn't think that, as he'd likely turn a corner and see her face.]
No.
[It had to be him the first time. What's once more?]
[It's going to take a lot of effort, and he focuses on gathering the offensive magic as he steps forward. The air is flickering blue around his fingers. And it's with just a trace of self-consciousness that he stops, and leans in to say something to the pumpkin.]
... I'm sorry, love. But this is wrong.
[Then, he pulls back, hands glowing. He shoves them forward with a crackling burst of blue light and energy. Spiritual power slams the squash off its pole... and into a nearby wall with a shriek, and an explosion of gore.]
[Alistair remains silent, watching as the mage approaches the pumpkin with the man's face. He doesn't show his surprise at the whispered words - tactfully decides to pretend he didn't hear them. They were no doubt whispered for a reason. And, about this, the ex-templar isn't going to question.
[The pumpkin screams as it "dies", and still, Alistair remains silent. There's no kind way to go about destroying something that will scream in agony, especially when that scream sounds like someone so important. But, if it had to be done ... he's glad that Anders chose such a quick way to do it. Far better than allowing it to essentially bleed out.
[❤ (+5) Alistair approves.
[It's not until several long moments have passed, and he thinks the mage has had a bit of time to collect himself, that he speaks again.]
[But then he'd stumbled upon someone else.]
[Someone he had all but buried nearly ten years ago. Not literally. That hadn't been possible. Someone else who... had died at his hand. Not Justice's. His.]
[He's in the process of staggering back from the pumpkin -- en route to bump, once again, into the other Warden.]
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Ande--
[The warning is too late, and the name doesn't come out quite in time.
[At least Alistair's balance isn't the sort to be affected by someone stumbling into him.]
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[But right now, he's a little too busy being horribly disturbed by that pumpkin a few feet away.]
Maker, what... why are they doing this! This isn't... magic.
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[He doesn't step away; he can't be sure that the man won't simply stumble again and fall. And, as disagreeable as Anders is, he can't just let that happen.]
It's like something's dug into our minds and dragged out everything important.
[The question - "Is this person important to you?" - goes unstated. But it lingers all the same.]
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[His attention turns back to the pumpkin, his face paling a little more than usual]
They shouldn't use these people like that. They should let them rest in peace.
[Especially poor Karl.]
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It's not right. And there's no excuse for it.
[He hesitates for just a moment, considering the paleness of Anders' face, before pressing further.]
Do you have any idea what could be causing this? I know you said it's not magic ... but it could it be some sort of demon?
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We should destroy them. Put them out of their misery.
[At the question, though, he swallows, and steels himself. One hand extends toward the pumpkin, and the air shimmers briefly.]
No. There isn't any demon here. No trace of blood magic, either. Whatever did this, it isn't any kind of magic we've seen in Thedas.
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[He looks at the face of the pumpkin, and his tone softens.]
Have you seen what happens when they're destroyed?
[If Anders hasn't, and if this person is important to him ... Alistair wonders if it might be better for him to do the actual destroying.]
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[He glances over at Alistair, and frowns.]
Why...? What happens when you destroy them?
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[He hesitates, figuring out how to word this.]
... They die.
I know how ridiculous that sounds. They're just pumpkins, faces or not. But their insides sort of bleed everywhere, and there's ... screaming.
[And it's that part that got to him.]
A lot of screaming.
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They... They die? Screaming? Like a human would?
[That's just not right. That's not even fair.]
Who would do that?
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[Oh would he ever like to find out.]
It's twisted and cruel, no matter what they're actually made of.
And it's not anything that anyone needs to hear. Especially when it sounds like someone important to them.
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[But... maybe he shouldn't be surprised. As it vaguely occurs to him that this man had a hand in his own recruitment. Maybe he should -- remember there is no such thing as a just templar. There must be some ulterior motive -- focus on what's more important.]
I think our hosts have some explaining to do. Provided we're allowed to speak with them.
[And then he looks back to the pumpkin. His fingers curl around the staff.]
... But if it must be done, it shouldn't be drawn out.
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[Not an offer he's eager to make, and not something he'd enjoy doing. But ... he makes the offer all the same.]
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[But this one... sounds like Karl. Looks like him. It could only be worse if it were that little girl. Except maybe he shouldn't think that, as he'd likely turn a corner and see her face.]
No.
[It had to be him the first time. What's once more?]
[It's going to take a lot of effort, and he focuses on gathering the offensive magic as he steps forward. The air is flickering blue around his fingers. And it's with just a trace of self-consciousness that he stops, and leans in to say something to the pumpkin.]
... I'm sorry, love. But this is wrong.
[Then, he pulls back, hands glowing. He shoves them forward with a crackling burst of blue light and energy. Spiritual power slams the squash off its pole... and into a nearby wall with a shriek, and an explosion of gore.]
[He just droops in place.]
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[The pumpkin screams as it "dies", and still, Alistair remains silent. There's no kind way to go about destroying something that will scream in agony, especially when that scream sounds like someone so important. But, if it had to be done ... he's glad that Anders chose such a quick way to do it. Far better than allowing it to essentially bleed out.
[❤ (+5) Alistair approves.
[It's not until several long moments have passed, and he thinks the mage has had a bit of time to collect himself, that he speaks again.]
Will you be alright?
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