tevinteriscoming | week 3; private; thursday evening

[The paranoia is starting to get unpleasant to deal with, especially as the day drags on Thursday. Every odd sound, or shadow around the corner, and he has to prevent himself from casting barrier and using up his allotment of magic for the day. It's difficult, but he's also well practiced enough with this sort of thing; temptations from demons that try to manipulate your sense of reality. The remedy is to remain firm about the things you know are true. But by Thursday evening, between the paranoia and the knowledge that half the ship might legitimately be out to kill them is beginning to get unbearable.

It might come by attack, or by framing. The only person he knows well enough to trust is Bull at this point. He hasn't been feeling comfortable around him lately, but the logical part of his brain tells him he should. It's frustrating, to be torn between the emotional instinct to distrust and what he ought to and even wants to think.

Which is why it starts to seem like a good idea, after a few drinks, to wait for him outside his room. After all, they need to work this out and get on the same page before whatever is going to erupt on Friday happens, and they should probably be discussing strategy somewhere more private than the chapel.]

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Oh, we're never sober.

[He's a few drinks in, at least. But entering the room first. He's trying to clamp down on the sense that Bull, behind him, isn't safe.]

You don't keep anything of your own? That's a mistake. Elizabeth wants to keep us all honest by taking the alcohol.

[Bull is pretty quick about shutting it behind them, being a gentlequnari and letting Dorian have to haul himself up that ladder first too. If only the future could be simple.

His room is . . . amazingly sparse. There's practically nothing. The beds don't even look slept in (maybe because he has a hard time laying down in them in the first place), only a few sheets of paper around, scribbled on in qunlat. They don't really mean anything - not that anyone else here could read it. He has a few bottles of his own sitting on the desk. Sure he keeps some. So much safer.]

Course I do. And mostly find people get more honest with a few drinks, think she's just worried the fun will start without her.

I think she's perfectly sincere, and has also never had any fun in her life. I've known girls like her. If she isn't doing it, no one ought to.

[Sitting down on the chair at his desk. The fact that he makes himself at home is him trying to seem confident.]

How are you finding yourself? Paranoia set in yet?

Think someone should show her how to have a good time. Throw a party or something. Let loose a little, to really shake off the whole . . . murder-y feeling.

[Sitting on the edge of the bottom bunk. He clunks his horns against the top bunk a little, grimacing a bit. This happens literally every day.]

Yeah. Not going to lie to you, not a great feeling. Hitting you yet?

Of course. But it's all very artificial, isn't it? Things in dark corners, intrusive thoughts, conveniently announced in advance. Fear demons aren't usually so polite as to knock.

Wouldn't know.

[Eugh. Demons.]

. . . How do you tell if you're possessed?

I'd hope the demon whispering in your ear and controlling your actions would be a clue. Well, I suppose one never knows with full certainty, not in the initial stages. But with training, you're taught to recognize the signs.

[Dorian, this isn't super helping.]

Strange emotions, unfamiliar drives, believing in things you know aren't true...that sort of thing. I'm not possessed, if you're wondering.

[Dorian this is doing the opposite of helping.]

Wasn't, but now I am. Got others, mages, running around acting strange, we know theres demons around. Hard not to connect the dots.

I think they may be acting strange because we're all under the influence of a spell.

Which mages?

You said Adam was a mage, right? Hauling around weights and acting strange. Somethings going on.

[yes self defense, genius]

Adam?

[That's really concerning. It also doesn't sound right; Adam is thoughtful and seems to have a good control on his magic. But some fear grips him anyway. Adam had said some awfully strange things about the 'spirit of magic.']

I'm sure it's nothing. Perhaps he's decided to abandon magic to join the school of hitting things too hard.

I think more pressing is the likelihood someone will be killed tomorrow, no?

[ Any other day that would make Bull extremely proud. Today though he's a little too caught up in the rest of this bullshit.]

Good thing you're building an alibi then.

[ Bull pops one of the bottles open, taking a drink first before offering it. A gesture - obviously it's not poisoned if he'd drink first.]

Is that what I'm up to? Well, it's true, you can never be too careful. I hope I didn't spend too long absolutely senselessly drunk in the parlor, I've heard that can be fatal.

[He says it lightly, but his stomach drops. Paranoia or no, that was cold, and he's struck with the self-conscious realization that coming here was a laughable mistake. They don't know each other at all, they have absolutely no reason to trust one another.

Which is of course why he takes the bottle and drinks from it without hesitation. Please. As though he'd poison him in his own bedroom.]

[Who knows, maybe he was TRYING to be nice. He probably wasn't, but the thought surely has to count. He's not really in a place to care if something was particularly cold or not, much like the atmosphere in this room right now.]

Worse places to spend an evening.

[Maybe dead.]

You think they'll take out someone vulnerable?

Better places, too.

[Taking some more alcohol. Sorry, it's his now.]

Hopefully the paranoia will be a help. The vulnerable ones will lie low. I can't see them coming for either of us to kill. No, we're better targets for a frame up, I'm afraid.

week 3; private; thursday evening

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