Fenris (
magicalglowstick) wrote2020-06-30 12:03 am
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[It's clear, but going in depth now is just going to make Rafe question him more. At least, that's how he sees it.]
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[ Zing.
Honestly, how can Fenris still think that Rafe will ever let a thing lie once he knows there's something more to it? C'mon. ]
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He sighs and settles himself down in his seat, resigning himself to his fate.]
I never told you how these markings came to be on my body. [He always danced around the subject, or gave just enough information. It's not the easiest thing to talk about.] But I told you before that Danarius is a powerful mage. He has many experiments and research that other magisters would kill for.
[He stares down at the palm of his hand...now a claw, but still bearing the markings.]
These markings are his best work. The real reason his chase for me is so relentless. I...don't remember much from before I got them. I know that I was just a boy, that I...[Actually, that doesn't matter. He's not ready to talk about that yet.]...The process was so painful it cost me my memories.
[Fenris's gaze rises to meet Rafe's but stops just short and lands on his chest instead.]
What the Fourth's father did to it is not unlike what Danarius did to me. He turned me into a weapon. Lyrium is a volatile mineral that would cause anyone who come into contact with it permanent damage to their minds, and kill mages outright. Dwarves are the only ones who can mine it safely, and when they do they process it so that it can be used. Mages drink these lyrium potions to enhance their magic, templars drink it to help them resist magic, and some even use it to enchant armor and weapons. Mages even use it to consciously enter the Fade — a land of spirits and demons, where we are said to go when we sleep.
It's a powerful substance, present both in the physical world and the Fade, and Danarius infused it directly into my skin. Whatever I used to be, I lost it when I stepped into that sarcophagus.
So yes, I feel for the creature. But I doubt there is anything left of the child before his father twisted his very being. You don't have to worry about me going soft. The enemy of my enemy is my friend; that is all.
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The words hang between them for a long moment before Rafe just shakes his head. ]
Starting to wonder if there's anything simple or straightforward to your life. I mean, just... Christ, dude. So when you talk about being able to phase, all that shit, that was from the—
[ Rafe has always called them tattoos because that's what they'd looked like, but now that he knows... Every joke about the random glow he's made up to now suddenly falls flat. He wonders whether Fenris allowed them because he's not particularly offended, or because of some holdover slave-logic. ]
It's because of the branding. [ A considering frown. ] Figured it was just a generic elf thing.
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[Fenris is sure that the irony doesn't need to be pointed out. And he's sure he doesn't have to actually inform Rafe that no, there is nothing simple or straightforward about his life. From the first moment he can remember there was pain and confusion and his present is no different.]
The Dalish give their clan members vallaslin when they come of age. The designs represent an elven god of their choice. I...the gift shop in the cursed museum had "temporary" ones, whatever that means. [And yes, Fenris took some because he hoards things, it's what he does. But anyway:] Many have mistaken me for a Dalish because of these markings. I would not be surprised if the design is meant to be a mockery of the elvhen.
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[ Mockery and debasement going hand in hand with the arrogance and base cruelty that has to come with the idea of owning another person like they're just a slightly more ambulatory ottoman. Rafe shakes his head in disquiet, another piece of information filed away before accepting what Fenris has told him at face value. ]
But if you're certain it won't be an issue, then it won't be. [ Setting his jaw, he arches an eyebrow. ] And it won't do to put this off later.
[ Because of course Rafe is ready to do this here and now, before any hesitation can set in and the part of himself that hasn't stopped screaming for nigh on six months cracks his resolve with how batshit crazy his un-life continues to be. ]
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[Just one more affirmation, because Fenris is sure it won't be a problem. He has put down many people he considers friends in his lifetime, people he felt for, people he pitied, whether it was because their minds were lost or because he was simply ordered to.
It won't be a problem.]
You...wish to do this now, then? [Well, shit.] If you're truly certain then...I suppose putting it off is pointless.
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[ He doesn't know how much the Fourth would be able to pick up on, what he already knows, but the least they can do is to split up and make it hard for the little god. ]
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Right. I will be here then.
[Hopefully it won't take too long because he will spend every second worrying.]
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He doesn't feel any different as he comes back downstairs to find Fenris and show he's in— Well, as many pieces as he went up in. The frustration at the lack of immediate change (not any stronger that he can tell, no wings, no laser eyes, definitely not any larger, dammit) makes him sour, distracts him from noticing the lack of shadow he casts in the already-darkened house.
So Fenris may be startled when Rafe's voice comes from seemingly nowhere as he invisibly glides toward the couch. ]
Here's hoping we don't live to regret this.