for awingeddarkness

[questionablewit]

Kirkwall nights are never quiet, particularly in Lowtown. But as Kirkwall nights go, this one isn't bad. Hawke's spent a pleasant evening at the Hanged Man, laughing and drinking piss-poor beer and getting the pants beat off of her (almost literally) by Isabela, who's better at cheating in Wicked Grace than she is. So she's in a fairly mellow mood as she starts her walk home.

Because Kirkwall nights are never quiet, she's not drunk, and she's visibly armed and armored. Because she's Champion, not many people bother her. There are always a few lowlifes around who never learn, who have a vendetta or want to make a name for themselves by trying to take down one of Kirkwall's more visible residents. But no one seems inclined to try tonight.

Hawke's almost sorry. At this rate she'll make it home, go to bed, and the entire day will have passed without anything noteworthy happening at all. That's a rare thing and perhaps she should appreciate it, but Hawke hates being bored. Her eyes dart everywhere as she walks the streets towards Hightown, glancing at rooftops and down alleyways. Admittedly, that's less her looking for something of interest and more prudence. One reason Hawke manages to stay alive is that she puts some effort into being aware of her surroundings.

Besides, she might be wrong about the night not being noteworthy.

Comments

[awingeddarkness]

Well now, that's a perceptive pooch. He briefly looks at Teo, then back to Hawke. He just sighs, looking frustrated, and tired. Unconsciously, he grips his afflicted arm. "Something like that. It's incurable, and on a cellular level, so I don't think there's anything to be done for it. Even the best medicines I've ever tried don't work. And my body's made to fight off anything it comes across, and quickly. And there are people - even children - in a worse state than I."

Cloud forces a wry smile. "The eye glowing bit is normal for me."

But, curious, he offers his hand, palm up, towards Teo. He has no treats for the puppy, but he can at least offer scritches. He gives this offering without fear, and if Teo tries to snap, he has quick enough reflexes to pull away without issue.

[questionablewit]

Hawke considers this, watching her dog closely. His judgement is usually pretty good, and while he's obedient to her commands (except for the ones like "No jumping onto the bed"), she's willing to wait and let him make up his own mind about this guess. His opinion will help her form hers, because this new piece of information is...problematic. She might not know the meaning of the word cellular, but there's still a lot there to chew on. (His body is made to fight off disease? Was he designed or enhanced somehow, like Fenris?)

For his part, Teo takes a moment, still sniffing delicately. This newcomer smells strange, like nothing he's run across; a little like magic and a little like lightning and a lot like something he has no words for. Something of illness and something of danger. But not hostile, which is the most immediately urgent thing. There's no aggression or fear, nothing to make him think he or his mistress are in danger. So ultimately, he takes the last step forward and accepts a scratch on the head. Not more than that, but he'll permit it as a greeting and acknowledgement that there is no threat present that he can identify.

It only takes a few seconds of time, but Hawke thinks a good deal during those few seconds. Once her dog is content, she continues with the most urgent question. "How contagious is it?" She looks pointedly at his arm. "And how did you catch it? Through a wound?"

[awingeddarkness]

"We don't know if it's contagious or not, but the victims have seemed to dwindle. Lots of us caught it after... after..."

He frowns, uncomfortable, but it needs to be said. "...after we killed someone who was trying to turn the planet as a vessel for space travel, and kill all life in the name his "mother"."

A beat. "I fought him one last time as he tried to lay claim to my body again, and that was the last I saw of him. After that, the whole world was rained upon. Or rather, what came from within the planet itself to protect us - a stream that harbors souls - returned like rain. But... it couldn't have been that. All life exists because of that stream. If it caused it, then why are only some people affected, and not others?"

It's something he's been worrying about.

"Not everyone who was infected was, to my knowledge, injured at the time. But then, it's impossible to ask everyone, and not everyone wants to talk about it, or would even remember such a thing.

"In any case, I manage to keep it contained in bandages. I don't think I've infected anyone, and I make frequent rounds to specific places."

And he's careful when it comes to handling it.

But, maybe he should just sleep in the alley? He glances back towards it, contemplatively. Sure, he doesn't know anyone here, and just aching for a bed had blinded him to the reality of things.

"...I should stay away, instead. Just to be safe, as much as my body thinks a bed is a wonderful idea."

[questionablewit]

'Planet' and 'space travel' go beyond Hawke (space travel? As in, walking from one place to another? Odd way to put it). "Killing all life in the name of his mother" sounds like the sort of fantaticism you kill fast before it kills you. "Tried to lay claim to my body again" can't be anything good.

In short, what she gets from all this: crazy murderer tried to possess Cloud more than once, and then mystic rain made some people sick. All right, not that simplified, but there's so much that's confusing in there that she's grasping at straws a bit.

Or would be, if she didn't decide to ignore most of this story in favor of expediency. What's important is: person in front of her, who she's inclined to assist, has a strange disease of inexplicable origin which is so far uncurable and it's unknown how dangerous it is, and she has only his word for how containable it is. In her opinion, helping him is better to letting him stumble around possibly infecting other people. If nothing else, she wants Anders to have a look. Risky, but a calculated risk.

"I have a better idea. This way." She turns down an alleyway that leads them away from the tavern she'd been directing him to, and heads up towards Hightown, already planning to take a sneaky back route to get there. Something tells her she does not want to risk running into any Templars just now. "What was that you said about a stream of souls?"

Back to the Fade spirit theory.