crystal;

[heirring]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Richard Dickerson & Wysteria de Foncé
RECIPIENT: You All
NOTES: The highly scientific results from studying a not-so-recent amputation, and a call for volunteers (don't worry, it's not volunteering to get your limbs chopped off). Wysteria is in blue. Richard is in green.

Hello everyone. This is Madame de Foncé speaking, accompanied by Mister Dickerson. There is a whole report written up on the matter which we wish to discuss today. Anyone curious will find it filed among the Project Felandaris records. However, we agreed [sure that's the word for 'Wysteria bullied Richard into it'] that discussing the broad points in a more public venue might do some good.

Go ahead, Mister Dickerson.

Dissection of Madame de Foncé’s arm revealed extensions of the anchor growing outward along the vascular system, confirming the existing supposition that as much of the affected limb should be taken as possible to ensure an anchor is truly separated from its host.

[ There is an odd beat where it seems likely Mister Dickerson is hoping for Wysteria to chirp back in before he continues: ]

It further appears that lyrium has an affinity for -- [ more quietly ] Rifter flesh, for lack of a more delicate distinction. When exposed to Madame de Foncé’s arm it made a fleeting attempt to regrow the parts of her that were missing. [ So the rest of the Wysteria? Another pause. He doesn’t deign to specify. ]

We believe it may hold promise as a healing agent for Rifters if applied topically.

[Which brings them to the true aim of this whole endeavor, the enthusiasm for which has Wysteria's clipping in so briskly after him that there's almost no pause at all between 'if applied topically,' and—]

And so Mister Dickerson and I would like to make a request for volunteers from among the Rifter population. We would like to make a more thorough study of the effects of lyrium on us. I have prepared a sort of sign up form and have posted it on the door of Project Felandaris' office. If you would please add your name to it, Mister Dickerson, and myself, and indeed the general record would be most grateful.

That's all. Thank you. Ask whatever questions you wish to.

[Slightly muffled then, as if the crystal has been lowered away from the general nexus of conversation, Wysteria continues on in the same breath, 'You see, Mister Dickerson? That wasn't painful in the slightest. I hardly see why you were so hesitant—']

Comments

[heirring]

[Her 'Oh' is bright, as if he's turned a light on in a dark side room whose existence she'd entirely forgotten.]

I have frequently been abroad. Although no more than any average member of the company, Rifter or otherwise. More or less. I suppose frequent incidents of temporarily separation might accelerate the effects, but—

[This all has the impression of a young lady speaking her train of thought aloud. It's similarly obvious when she changes tracks and returns her attention to addressing him more specifically.]

Well the first person who died had an unusual placement. And Madame de Cedoux and Madame Baudin have both had anchors longer than I have. Longer than I did. I suppose what I mean is that it's difficult to draw any one conclusion as to the cause at present.

[ophidia]

[The longer she goes on, the higher Richard's eyebrows get. For all the framing of the original message and the vocabulary she's been tossing around, the solidity of the reasoning here is starting to look like quicksand.]

But you still went ahead and chopped your arm off. And now you want volunteers.

[heirring]

I assure you, the danger the limb presented was entirely real. And yes, I did choose to risk the possibility of adverse results when I permitted its removal.

Which is precisely why Mister Dickerson and I are now seeking out volunteers now when the danger is so much less. It would be highly preferable to discover a better way of dealing with the anchor's effects on the body, and how Rifters respond to certain materials now versus when someone else in such a position as the one I found myself in.

[ophidia]

Not really feeling all that assured.

[She's sounding way too okay about not having an arm anymore. But maybe seeing would be believing, and she's said elsewhere that the arm's still around. Somewhere.]

Did you try any on the other end?

[heirring]

You mean did I apply lyrium to my— was lyrium applied to the trunk of the amputation?

[One should always aggressively and rationally compartmentalize one's horrors!]

[ophidia]

Yes.

[Had he been avoiding trying to say lyrium? Maybe.]

[heirring]

Unfortunately, no. By the time we discovered effects of lyrium on the severed limb, the other [hm.] end of the appendage had already been seen to by Riftwatch's healers. And knit quite nicely, I suppose. As far as these things go.

[ophidia]

So you don't know that you're any different.

[heirring]

On the contrary. There are a few signifiers that I may indeed be different. Namely my appearance in the Crossroads and—

Oh, but you're one of the new arrivals as well, aren't you? I don't recognize your voice. Therefore, I won't oppress you with the details, and will only say that therr is evidence which separates myself from both Rifters and natives of this world.

[ophidia]

Details are what I'm interested in.

[Which, on that note:]

Where can I read the reports? And see the arm.

[heirring]

You may find both in the Project Felandaris office, which is located at the north side of the central tower. The seventh floor.

[Only don't ask me to actually write a report I'll just oocly send you the info because I don't have my shit together that much yet.]

Have you heard yet of the Crossroads?

[ophidia]

[He takes a mental note of the directions, and she earns like, half a point for giving them to the level of detail that he actually needs to find the place, and not making him ask.]

Not with a "the" and a capitalised C.

[heirring]

[With a deep breath—]

It's a sort of in-between place. [Grasping on something Richard Dickerson had once described—] A different plane, separate from both this place and the Fade. It's connected to what we might consider the every day world by a series of magic mirrors—eluvians—and essentially allows one to travel quickly across the continent by entering the Crossroads from one eluvian and exiting out of another. In the Crossroads, the distance may be quite negligible where in the daily world it might be leagues and leagues between the two points.

While in the Crossroads, there is a way in which certain individuals—namely in this case, Rifters—are effected by the environment there which lends them a sort of...arcane aura, let's say? All Rifters have it while walking there. Native Thedosian largely do not. With the anchor removed, I no longer possess the same aura.

[Which is a long winded explanation, but he had asked for details. Even despite that fact, this might be the moment in which a speaker might ordinarily pause so as to allow their audience to recover from the bludgeoning. Wysteria however takes only a swift inhale before continuing to whack mercilessly along:]

However, I possess certain skills which are in Thedas unique to a Rifter and I have maintained them despite the loss of the anchor. This somewhat spoils a theory that Rifters derive their, er, talents from or are in some fashion reliant to and sustained by their connection to the Fade. Rather it's possible we are like... fade fruit, and somewhat prone to rotting on the vine if left attached there.

[ophidia]

[She can't see it, but his face scrunches up a little at the rotting fruit analogy. Gross. But he is very, very interested in everything else she's just described.]

How do you get there? This Crossroads place.

[heirring]

As in where is the closest eluvian? [Must be a metaphorical question—] Why, there's one right here in the Gallows.

[ophidia]

And you just [He's making a kind of gesture here, though she can't see it.] walk in?

[heirring]

[In the tone of having never considered the question before and suddenly just the tiniest fraction tentative on account of it; how does one create an eluvian?:]

Yes?

[ophidia]

[There's a slight edge growing in his voice. It might be excitement. Tamped down, though, because 1) be cool and 2) this honestly sounds too good to be true.]

Do we know where the other mirrors are?

[heirring]

We know where some of them are. Mapping the Crossroads and the eluvians tied to it is an ongoing matter of interest to Riftwatch. If you wish to be included on the next expedition, you need only request the assignment from your Division Head. They may then approve your use of the mirror so long as there is no other more pressing business required of you. I've had Provost Stark write me a chit once before so as to bypass whoever is on guard duty over the building where it's kept.

Why do you ask?

[ophidia]

[Richard doesn't have a Division Head. But if all that's needed for access is a note, well, forgery wasn't entirely beyond him and Seth.]

Seems like the type of thing someone would want to know. There's a door in your house, you want to know where it goes.

[Especially if said door is a magic mirror network entrance.]

[heirring]

Ah yes, well of course. I believe that's more or less the intent of the mapping effort as well.

Let's see. I think there is an eluvian in Skyhold for easy reach to the Inquisition, and I know there is one in Minrathous—which is the Tevinter capitol—and another in the Anderfels, and also in western Orlais. That one is in a gloomy old outpost. Oh, I know there's another one I'm forgetting.

[ophidia]

Tevinter as in the guys we're at war with.

[heirring]

That's right. Well done.

[Gold star for paying attention during your Gallows-mandated Thedas crash course, sir.]

[ophidia]

Do they know they've got a backdoor right into our house?

[heirring]

Oh no. It's all highly secret.