CRYSTAL;

[heirring]

FORM: Crystal
SENDER: Wysteria de Foncé
RECIPIENT: All y'all
NOTES: Potential discussion of human experimentation, drug use, etc

Greetings, Riftwatch. This is Madame de Foncé speaking. I will be brief.

[Presumably this is met with a round of skeptical noises from every corner of the Gallows.]

This is a formal request for a last slate of volunteers for my inquiry into the effects of lyrium in the anchor shard. Any member of the company with a shard is more than welcome. A sheet has been posted on the notice board in the dining hall, alongside a thorough description of the risks associated with the work. The language of this posting has been reviewed by a number of highly qualified members of this company, and you may take it as fact.

[Have they approved the specific language? Who can say. Certainly Wysteria doesn't specify.]

Trials are to begin promptly, and I require at least one native Theodosian with an anchor and would prefer to have one or two additional Rifters included in the study. All participants will be thoroughly briefed at each stage of the work.

Should you have any questions, you are welcome to extend them. Do not vandalize my pages on the board. Thank you and good day.

Comments

[portalling]

Oh my god—

( Is this what people feel like when they're talking to him? Karma. This is probably karma.

A moment later, however, that incorrigible curiosity kicks back in, with the crisp voice of a physician who just wants to know: )

Is the shard still there? Has there been any noticeable change in the limb since you cut it off? Or is it in a state of complete suspension, as it were?

cw: body horror.....

[heirring]

[And Wysteria is happy enough to answer. So as if they are not discussing a part of her body at all, but merely one of many bizarre bits of ephemera houses in the Gallows:]

The shard is still there, yes. Though it became inert shortly after being separated from the main body. I would say there was no noticable change due to the amputation itself—which was a concern, naturally, prior to having done so, that it or the body might somehow dematerialize once the anchor had been split away—, however Mister Dickerson and I did conduct the first of our experiments then.

The limb was exposed to raw lyrium, and it attempted to— well, to reform itself, I suppose. Rather like a transplanted root. But only for a short while. Once the anchor lost its power, so too did the seemingly regenerative effects of the flesh.

Now it's just an arm, though the tendrils of the anchor's growth are worth study if you've not seen them.

that good shit

[portalling]

Y’know, that is actually a relief. That we don’t just evaporate into nothingness without it. There’s been a certain amount of existential anxiety on that particular front.

The rest, though, is— kind of alarming.

( But he says it cheerfully, all interest piqued. He’s caught the taste of an arcane mystery, and god but he loves arcane mysteries no matter how ill-advised. )

Mine is fairly new so I haven’t seen them, no, and I’d appreciate the examination. When you say “inert”, does that mean the colour has faded? That it’s visibly different from a living shard in some way?

And I also realised that I’ve never actually asked. Did you cut off your arm purely for science? For the additional freedom to leave Riftwatch at will? Or did you hate having it that much? —if this is too private, just tell me to piss off, it’s fine.

[heirring]

[There are all sorts of answers to his first questions right there on the tip of her tongue—no, he wouldn't see his own anchor's growth unless he opened up his arm; yes, the color had faded from it and all fadiation readings had dropped—, but this second round draws her short.

Or at the very least it momentarily distracts her; it's difficult to quiet Madame de Foncé entirely.]

Certainly not! [Has a flicker of genuine offense in it; less for the asking, more for the nature of the supposition. Had she cut it off purely for science.] The anchor had become dangerous. They do that. They are quite capable of destroying the body they've been embedded in.

[portalling]

( No apology for the offense, just trundling onto the next question: ) How many years? For it to reach that point of danger.

[heirring]

[Probably for the best; looking directly at a growling terrier sometimes only offends it into barking.]

In this particular case, the anchor became necrotic after a period of three years. But there are Rifters such as Madame de Cedoux and natives such as Madame Baudin who have been in possession of their anchors for longer without suffering significant harm.

It's possible it may have had to do with the level and frequency of prolonged fadiation contact. Without more information [additional amputated arms, say], it would be difficult to say exactly what accelerated the deterioration.

[portalling]

On the one hand, that’s aggravatingly inconsistent. On the other hand, not unprecedented. People can contract lung cancer without smoking a single cigarette; bodies behave in unpredictable and unfair ways.

Fadiation contact— Physical trips through the Fade? Use of the anchor? Closing of rifts?

[heirring]

And the repeated opening of Rifts. And exposure to the Blighted Gates, and so on.

[portalling]

Terrible luck of the draw. I’m sorry it got so bad, but simultaneously glad you found a way to solve the issue.

[heirring]

Well [breezily, dismissive like the wave of a hand; perhaps they know one another just well enough given her refusal to acknowledge her Particular Talents and the work on the Magrallen to know definitively that this airy state of Wysteria's tenor only manifests when she is lying or making a very small deal out of a big big deal.]

So it goes. The point is the limb in question is in a jar in the the old Felandaris office should you care to observe it. And obviously a great deal of this work is being done in the effort to avoid cutting off quite so many arms in the future.

[portalling]

( And Strange is just awkward enough with this sort of thing that he takes note, but doesn’t know how to address it. The easier thing, then: letting Wysteria breeze through and wave the topic aside. His next remark comes askance. )

Precise fingerwork has been crucial to the way I perform spells. Yet I once met a sorcerer who was missing a hand entirely, so intellectually I know it’s not necessary — but I’d still prefer not to have to lose an entire arm and re-learn everything. Once was bad enough.

Regardless. Yes, I’d like to observe it. Have you looked at any part of it through the microscope?

( Gruesome topic, but… )

[heirring]

[Gruesome or no, this prompts a decidedly more legitimate brightening.]

Oh! No, actually. Do you think it would really matter to see the thing so close?

[portalling]

It can’t harm, and you never know what you might learn. Niehaus, Cosima— I read the report about red lyrium being infected with the Blight having come from observing it closely with the microscope. Perhaps the shard looks inert to the naked eye, but you might still see some movement at a miniscule and microscopic level. Perhaps we can get a better sense of how it spreads through biological tissue.

How good are you at drawing?

[heirring]

Tolerable, [slowly, and with great skepticism.] Dependant on the subject.

[If she can use a ruler and compass.]

[portalling]

Hm. We’d want someone with a good hand to illustrate whatever we see through the scope. The sight’s likely to be very abstract, y’know, like those water and grass slides Cosima and I demoed at the expo? But there should still be some— I don’t know, illustrative record for this too. A visual copy to have on file. ( offhand, almost to himself: ) God, I miss photography.

[heirring]

De Foncé can draw. The other de Foncé. Valentine. Though I have my doubts he can be moved to care much about the subject.

[About his wife's severed arm? Small wonders.]

It might be best to ask the company and see whether anyone else is capable.

[portalling]

I’ll do a company-wide poll; I find myself in need of someone who could draw up some informative posters around the infirmary, too, so the requests could go hand-in-hand.

( —ok he’s gotta ask )

Your husband wouldn’t care about your, uh, arm?

[heirring]

No, I believe a great majority of his thoughts are presently engaged by dwarven architecture. Or dwarven Thaigs? Old pots. I would be very surprised if he currently remembers lyrium has anything to do with Rifters at all, and if he has no interest in the subject it will be incredibly annoying to keep his attention on it.

[This all said in perfectly frank tones with no hint of that airy, too high quality that denotes something Wysteria is tip-toeing around.]

A general survey would be best. Then even if he is the only person who can draw, the broader invitation will entice him to volunteer so he might brag about it.

[portalling]

Well, you’d know him best. I’ll see if I can lure him or someone out. Artistic skills aren’t exactly on Riftwatch’s recruitment list, but it’s needed.

Is there something particularly fascinating about old dwarven pots?

[heirring]

I'm sure he could tell you. And would be delighted to.

Now as for the arm. Would you care to see it today, or at some later interval?

[portalling]

Some later interval; I’ll line up an artist first and then get back to you on the whole ( said wryly, ) self-autopsy thing.

[heirring]

[+10 approval for good humor.]

Very good. In the mean time, I'll make a copy of my notes and leave them in your pigeon hole in the dining hall.