There's a beautiful sadness that runs through him

[mutedsuspicions]

WHO: Lerith & Open
WHERE: Lerith's Calibration Room
WHAT: Calibrations stuff
WHEN: May
WARNINGS: CW/TW: Lerith's room has the potential to contain blood, violence, magical and physical assault/abuse, and torture. The items are labeled with warnings.


Waiting Room Post
Waiting Room Mingle

Calibrations Room
A large interior room of a mansion with white walls embellished in gold and black chains winding about. The decorations are nonexistent, save for one oversized, looming painting of a human dressed in black finery that is trimmed with red and silver. He's dark haired man with an intimidating gaze that seems to follow visitors around the room. Judging by the size of the painting, he is clearly the owner of the mansion. From this portrait come spider-webbing lines of blood that pulse down to the white floor. If touched, it’s very warm, like holding your hands almost too close to a fire. The blood flows into and through the grout lines, leading to the center of the room.

At the center of this room is a long stone altar, with both dried and fresh blood coating the stonework. There are thick metal cuffs where wrists and ankles would go, also covered in blood and burned here and there from what had to be magic. The emotion of fear is thick over this table, like a fog you can't see more than a foot in. The only thing that rests on the altar is a dagger [cw: magical assault, violence, blood], gleaming in the light and is the only thing clean on the altar.

To the altar's right, a dining room table. There's a setting only for one, with ornate dinnerware, goblet, and utensils. Instead of a lush meal however, there are only cold scraps and the goblet is empty. A woman with no face stands next to the table, a metal canister [cw: assault, abuse, burning] of what smells like coffee held in her hands. She has pointed ears to indicate her race, and wears simple clothes similar to Lerith.

To the altar's right, a caged halla paws nervously at the floor. There's no room for it to move in the cage other than laying down or standing up. It's antlers are long and twining, with a length of chain tangled within it and a key dangling out of reach. Any attempts to snag the key simply make the antlers grow longer or the halla moves its head to swing it out of reach. The cage is made of a thick metal - natives of Thedas might recognize it was Everite - and one of the few not covered in blood.

Lerith is next to it, reaching through the bars to soothe it. Lerith looks mostly the same, save that the scarf is gone and the metal collar has been replaced with a black and gold snake around his neck. The snake alternates between tightening and relaxing around the elf’s neck while giving a low hiss every now and again. The elf doesn’t look concerned about the snake collared around his throat as he looks to his guest, tensing slightly.

"…I was not expecting company."

Comments

[plate_builder]

"Sadly," Reeve said, head tilting as he looked around, "it is part of what the traps of this realm are for us."

The man stands there in a suit, his hands shoved into his pockets. Reeve? Deliberately not touching anything yet. He knows how this thing works, and he doesn't want to be too invasive if he can avoid it.

"A pleasure to hear your voice."

[mutedsuspicions]

Lerith didn't have an idea of what Reeve was talking about. At least the company was someone he was familiar with. His hands leave the halla's cage area and he closes some of the distance between himself and the human. The snake coils and hisses tighter, but the elf isn't bothered.

"This...is the only place I may speak. A voice in my own head with no way to say my words out loud." Lerith at least seems less nervous here, in this familiar and ornate place where he seems very much the odd one out. "You may... lo..lo-ok around if you would like. Not many... not many things are go-od though."

Lerith seemed to have almost a stutter with some words, separating double letters to make two words almost.

[plate_builder]

"I am not surprised they aren't. These things, this forced sharing..."

It's a mess.

"Are you aware enough, from other visitors, to know what you would not want someone to see?"

[mutedsuspicions]

So it was forced. Lerith grimaces at the thought that not even his mind, this room, was safe from intrusion. Even so far away from the Imperium... There comes an ominous rumbling from... the painting it seems. Out of habit the elf seems to shrink under the portrait's gaze.

"I... I do not know," he whispers, focusing on the other. "Al..l of it is bad. Bad things that have hap-pened to me. Except the memory with her," and Lerith gestures to the halla he had been soothing when Reeve arrived.

[plate_builder]

"I am sorry for the darkness that came for you in your life. From what I know of Thedas, it is not pleasant to those that humans find to be different."

Reeve knew about Thedas? Oh yes. Very much so. He'd learned a lot in the last world he was in, From Alistair and from Bull.

"I've wondered, is it because you're a mage? Were you bound because of that? Or your race?"

[mutedsuspicions]

Lerith found it surprising that Reeve knew of Thedas. Maybe he had been to someone else's mind already. There was no telling in Tembra or with the Agrii. The surprise is there on his face and the halla tosses her head for a moment.

"Al-l slaves under his rule wear a magic nul...lification col-lar, mage or no. To ke-ep any in check and to ke-ep an uprising from starting. There are not many ways to defend yourself from magic if you are not trained." He and many others had suffered under the magister's electricity based magic, and Lerith moreso under the blood magic. He knew he wasn't the first and he wouldn't be the last.

The elf leans against the cage, fussing with his shirt. "The slave trade makes quite a bit of coin from Elves. They steal us from the city and from the wilds. We fetch a decent price in Tevinter." The yellow eyes lock with Reeve's brown. "I was very skit-tish because there will be coin for my return to my magister. But if I am returned, he wil...l kil-l me."

[plate_builder]

Damn. That's horrid. Reeve hates it so damn much, thinking that people could be so enslaved.

"Tevinter. The Imperium. Where that man, Dorian is from," Reeve muses quietly, thinking of Bull's love. "So long as you are on Agra 10, if your supposed Magister comes, I will not let him hurt you."

[orangewayfinder]

Terra has no idea what's going on, but he took a good look around the room. He's unsure what the altar in blood is all about, and the chains on it seem downright scary. But then he spots Lerith who seems to be totally engrossed in helping the animal with horns.

Further still, he pulls back a little when the man speaks. This was just about the very same reaction he had when he heard Ven's voice for the very first time and he smiled, repeating those words.

"You can talk."

[mutedsuspicions]

Lerith supposed it was surprising that he could speak. How long had it been since he had been able to use his voice in the waking world anyways?

"Only... only in here. My voice was carved away." A glance to the altar that stood prominently at the center of the room. The halla snorts and paws at the ground nervously as Lerith mentions it, and the elf soothes her again. "This is the only place my voice can speak the words I wish to always say in conversation but can-not."

He was separating words that had double letters, making them two words. A speech impediment it seems, cropped up after years of not being able to speak himself.

[orangewayfinder]

"Oh." Terra replied, suddenly feeling saddened for the loss. But then he looked over at the altar and didn't want to think about what actually happened to the elf. The halla's snort redirected his attention and he looked at the beast in the cage and then to the man himself.

"It's gotta be frustrating, to have the words all bottled up inside. I take it there's no magic or anything that can bring it back to make it easier?"

[mutedsuspicions]

"It is why I use Sign to speak. Or the device. Sign is easiest but no one knows it." He looks to Terra, some sadness in his eyes. "Blo-od magic kept my voice locked. Even with it gone, there is damage that can-not be healed."

The mention of blood magic seems to make the blood in floor pulse and the snake around his neck hisses threateningly. Lerith hunches over as the portrait of his owner trembles in a sinister manner on the wall.

Even on this alien planet, the magister still struck fear through Lerith's mind it seemed.

[orangewayfinder]

"But it can't be reversed then." Terra concluded. He wouldn't know how to reverse something like that, but if Lerith thought it would help, he'd go to town so to speak to find out if someone knew.

People here knew all sorts of things.

And of course seeing Lerith hunch over and hearing the snake hiss had Terra clenching his fists at his side, feeling his old anger lance through his veins. He wished he could face this tormentor of his friend and get the magic reversed and restore things back, and he'd start with that snake.

It was just like being back in the Coliseum when he'd fought Zack. He'd gotten angry because the boy was being controlled by Hades, just as he had been by Maleficent in dealing with Princess Aurora in the Enchanted Dominion.

Lerith seemed to be going through the same thing. So Terra was angry, but not at his friend.

[mutedsuspicions]

"The magic is gone from my voice, but the damage is done." He turns his head away, scowling a little. At least the collar was off in the waking world. Small miracles, small steps. "The Iron Bull helped and found someone to remove the collar, and it unlocked the blo-od magic as well."

But the memory of the damage was still there, running through the lines of the floor to the portrait on the wall. There was fear in his face as it seemed the portrait just... loomed over Lerith and Terra. Another careful pet of the halla before the elf moved. Took Terra's hand to lead him over to the altar.

"I saved her," he pointed to the faceless elf standing at the table. "And I was punished for it." Lerith let go of Terra's hand and indicated the clean dagger resting on the stone between them.

[tsundullahan]

This isn't a place she knows. She's not sure what to make of it. Her steps are quiet, careful as she makes her way around, feeling like she shouldn't be here. The painting suggests that this isn't a pleasant man to meet, if indeed this is his dwelling. The webwork of red that seems to seep down from the image makes her shudder. Is that..?

The helmeted woman almost jumps at the voice, turning sharply to the rest of the room and whoever had spoken. It's a lot to take in, but Celty focuses upon the two figures there, cautiously stepping towards the altar, which makes her halt before she looks towards the elf by the cage. An elf she knows.

[mutedsuspicions]

Lerith hears her despite the care she takes in trying to stay quiet. He doesn't move from his spot until he can see and greet her. Then smiles a little. "Mis..s Celty." He stumbles over double letters but it doesn't deter him at least. The caged halla tosses her head at the newcomer but doesn't look scared at least.

"...Can you speak while in my... ro-om?"

Lerith knew he couldn't speak in others' but maybe she had a different way to do so? Maybe her communicator hadn't gone missing like his had. Maybe he just left it in his hotel room.

[tsundullahan]

The smile puts her at ease, and she's quick to step away from the imposing portrait and closer to where Lerith stands. Realizing it's him that's spoken has her straighten in surprise. As she nears she looks over at the halla. There are so many questions she has, but Lerith beats to her to asking any of them with one of his own.

Can she? Celty pauses, but she sees no reason why she should be able to speak, in one room or another. She shakes her head, patting at her bodysuit, surprised but not disappointed at all to find the Blackberry-like phone Shinra had given her back home. Her fingers work rapidly on the tiny keys before she holds up the screen.

[What is this place? Your room?]

[mutedsuspicions]

Lerith leans forward to read the answer, which is just more questions to his own. He nods as a reply. "Yes. This ro-om is similar to one in the vil...la I used to live in, in Tevinter." His thoughts trail to the magister, and the portrait rumbles on the wall it hangs from.

"You are surprised I can speak? I used to, before my punishment." He looks to the altar that stands prominently in the middle of the room. "In my mind I can speak everything I want to say but I can-not in the outside world."

[tsundullahan]

In a way she can't help but feel slightly envious. She's never had the ability to speak- or did she? If she did then they're probably a part of the memories she's lost, among other things. But then to be reduced to writing and typing and gesturing from being able to speak freely, that must be a greater loss than never having known the ability to do so in the first place. Her envy is immediately quelled.

[Ever again? That's...a harsh punishment. I don't see what anyone could ever do to deserve such a thing.

This place...it doesn't look very friendly. And why is this one caged?]

She brings a hand up towards the cage, just between the bars but still outside of them. Living in Ikebukurou she's had very little experience with animals. Shooter's her oldest companion.

[mutedsuspicions]

Being mute had taken not only a vital method of communication from Lerith, but also made him a bit of an outcast for a long time in the villa. As she brings up a hand, Lerith moves his own, gently holding it out in case she reached in. Not that the halla would attempt to harm her, but-

"-wait. Let me ask." Which probably sounded strange to an outsider. But he turns to address the beast, asking for the permission to touch her. The permission is granted it seems, as she tosses her head in a clear up and down motion. "Do not pet her head or above, but she al...lows it. The hal-la are not pets to the Elves. They are brothers and sisters to us." A distant look to those yellow eyes, as though reciting something lurking that he couldn't reach for himself.

[only_an_echo]

Although his jaw is set, Echo finally tears his gaze away from the large portrait and the trails of blood, looking back to Lerith when he speaks up. Hearing his voice takes some getting used to, but he finds his answer after stealing another glance at the stone altar in the center of the room. "...I wasn't expecting to be here either, but I'm guessing this is part of the process."

Coming here after being in the blank white waiting room for a long period of time is jarring. Although he doesn't show it, everything here around the elf and the halla makes his skin crawl.

[mutedsuspicions]

Lerith turns to look at Echo at the words. "Proces..s-s?" He didn't entirely understand what was going on. Just that he was visiting people in their dreams and vice versa. Maybe it was just a fun thing for people to do? But if there was a process of it...

He walks towards Echo, with his footfalls echoing around the opulent room. "This is similar to the house I was a slave in, in the Tevinter Imperium. At least no one can harm you here." Or Lerith himself, for that matter.

[only_an_echo]

To be honest, he isn't too sure what to make of visiting other people's head spaces either. Echo shakes his head, giving Lerith a faint smile. "Undisclosed amounts of time spent in a white room and then suddenly showing up who-knows-where is something I don't want to get used to."

If he had to guess, that's what he would have assumed about the room. "That's reassuring." He means it - and to some extent, he feels relief that nothing can harm them. "Did it always look like this?"

[mutedsuspicions]

At least it was a friend and not a foe, visiting his mind. Lerith won't try to send Echo away, even if he had that power. "Going from a white place to...this is probably very jar-ring. I do not know if it always lo..oked like this."

He turns so Echo can see where he slides a finger on the back of his head. There's a jagged white scar there, untouched by his hair. "I do not remember any time before being a slave. Living in that manor is entirely what I know of before escaping. I was a slave for sevente...en years, Echo."

The painting seemed to shake ominously from its perch on the wall. "The other slave that gave me my tattoos," this time now gesturing to the teal ink on his face, "said I have... amnesia and she thinks it hap...pened when I hit my head."

[only_an_echo]

He doesn't mean to stare at the scar, but it's hard not to when Lerith touches it. "Seventeen years is too long," Echo rumbles, sympathetic to what the elf has been through and quietly angry that he had to live most of his life out this way. "No one should be a slave. You didn't deserve that kind of treatment."

When the painting appears to shake, his head snaps upward, wary of the portrait before slowly glancing back to see Lerith pointing out his tattoos. "Amnesia?" Head injuries are no laughing matter, and his concern shifts to look at the woman with no face. "Her?"

[mutedsuspicions]

Lerith doesn't mind the staring. He's drawing attention to it so Echo understands. "The slave market in the Imperium runs deep. Some houses are nice to work in, more like servants than slaves. I just hap-pened to be unlucky."

He looks to the other slave standing motionless next to the table. The elf shakes his head. "No." Echo would find himself led over to the table, yellow eyes ignoring the portrait. "This memory," indication to the table, "leads to that memory," which he then points to the altar covered in dried blood.

Lastly he points to the halla, trapped in the gleaming metal confines. "That is when I escaped on the Exalted Plains to make my way to Haven. My bravery, my punishment, my fre...edom. My strongest memories."