Who: Max & Lina What: Max's lyrium prosthetic is ~compleeeeeeeeted~ and then tested When: Today Where: Skyhold Rating/Warning: Unless setting a bush on fire offends you, none Status: Complete!
Lyrium was a total bitch.
Let it be known that the first experimental ‘booms’ in regards to this particular - infusing the mineral-like lifeform with a prosthetic that would allow a channeling and enhancement for magic - was because of it. Not her. Extensive research had been done first, and she had diligently swallowed every drop of information her petite hands could get ahold of because, hey, knowledge was power and key to messing with something as volatile as this. Notes from a dwarven arcanist had been uncovered in Skyhold that described what could happen (small explosions, for no damn reason) and, boy, were they on the money.
It was alright, though. A couple failures were to be expected upon embarking this project. Trial and error, tweaking and replacing things that didn’t work with what could work. Collaborative teamwork helped in that regard; she and Trevelyan had a ‘checks and balances’ system in play to make sure everything was handled carefully, as neither of them wanted to succumb to the awry side effects of it. Hence them taking their time, and making sure the exposure wasn’t of a dangerous level for either of them.
But lately, she had high hopes of how things were going.
Lina had a method to her madness, and it showed in the way she worked - one could say her thought process and organization was a bit long-winded and messy, but she knew where everything was and exactly what she needed. The prosthetic they were using for this was laid on old parchment paper inscribed in sigils, glowing softly, and she’d been using gloves (the ones in her dreams that came to her elbow; her traveling ware was enchanted for a little extra enhancement and protection, so they’d do fine) for the entire process. A couple waves of her hand over the man-made limb, some additions of clear liquid from a vial, the use of the crystal orb she used when it came to crafting rings. When the lyrium was added - pulverized into an electric blue dust, very fine and light - a chant of earth and fire slipped out of her mouth, and it all looked…lumpy at first. Like a total failure at first look, but.
“Give it a minute,” she murmured, wiping the nervous sweat from her brow. Her attempt was to modify the process she used for turning flawed jewels into flawless protection amulets - they’d look like a hot mess once the minor spells of transfiguration were finished, but they’d meld together and take a perfected form after a short time.
Because the clumps of lyrium changed, thinned out in lines to fill out crevices in the prosthetic, and in a way, giving it life. Streaming through the material, and illuminating it with its pulsing glow.
Now give it another minute to make sure it wouldn’t explode in their faces, maybe?
All of this had been a lot, Trevelyan was the first to admit - but as it turned out, he and Lina made a good researching team. It helped that she could fly on over to Skyhold, they could dig in deep and work until time was up (well, they each had people to get home to - staying for days and nights wasn’t in the cards) and neither were afraid of the trial and error process. Everything really was a process - this was science, in a sense, the perfect marriage of magic and something from a chemistry textbook, with a side of engineering. There were plenty of books to help them on this journey, to serve as written guides, and Max intended to utilize every single thing either written by arcanists, those tied to the Chantry, or by other dwarves of the more elite class - some said that the ‘song,’ the melodic hum to lyrium, was really the Titans hymn. These massive creatures were pillars of the world, capable of singing and shaping the foundations of the deep underground and the very earth itself.
Max wasn’t sure how much of that he believed, whether it was the Stone or the voice of the Maker, but lyrium was alive. And it was volatile - Bianca had been right when she said it sometimes exploded randomly. Both Max and Lina had already experienced that.
But with the added ingredients from Lina’s collection of enhancements, shall we say, there were also high hopes on the Necromancer’s end that they’d finally discovered the right combination to make this arm functional. Especially when lyrium glowed, seeping into the grooves and crevices of the prosthetic - instead of myoelectricity, the lyrium was what allowed the limb to move. And would in turn enhance Max’s own connection to the Fade; it was all a cycle.
“Looks good so far,” he spoke up after another minute of letting it settle. “I’ll put it on, see how it feels, and try to cast? Nothing major.” Baby steps were important here.
That’d be the real test. It was a victory that it wasn’t losing its shit while just lying there doing nothing, but having him try it on and work with it would be the final stretch in figuring out the functionality of the entire project. Lina wouldn’t lie; a small part of her was a tad bit nervous. Last thing she wanted was the thing to go berserk all of a sudden and melt off what was left of his arm - with what they were working with, it didn’t seem exactly out of the realm of possibility?
They knew the risks going in, though. Discovery and innovation - whether it be magical or technological - weren’t accomplished by playing it safe and sitting on the sidelines with thumbs up their ass. A nod was given to Trevelyan, and with the silvery gloves still stretched over her hands, she carefully lifted the prosthetic to give it a good visual examination. “Sounds like a plan. Everything looks good,” she observed, running her hands along the surface. “Texture seems fine even with the gloves on. Nothing’s leaking?” Bonus points for that. “I’ll help you put this on to make sure it’s nice and tight.”
Nothing’s leaking was definitely a good sign. If the lyrium was contained where it was supposed to be, all the better. Max just kind of wanted to give it a few slaps on its imaginary wrist - behave, you deadly and volatile substance. But yet it was oh-so-useful when harnessed correctly, not abused, and when those who attempted to work with it proceeded cautiously.
Or it could melt off the rest of his arm, or his face - that also seemed plausible. There was a subtle heat, a warmth, to the prosthetic - the limb almost seemed to be subtly thrumming with magic. He was nervous about putting it on, sure, but there was also a sense of excitement - and something Frankenstein-esque, it’s aliiiiiiiiive, gleefully playing on a reel in his head.
“Alright, let’s see what happens,” he said, unhooking and unfastening the regular old myoelectric limb that he usually wore. Max took it off for cleaning and proper maintenance often anyway - today, he even made sure to wear a t-shirt and nothing long-sleeved that would just be in the way. The lyrium-infused arm went on next, when the non-magical prosthetic was set down, and he turned a bit so Lina could assist with making sure the arm was on correctly. And wasn’t going to just fall off, that’d be awkward. “Hmmm...tingly already - I’ll also take that as something of a good sign.”
Lina was there to make sure it was on, securely, without anything awry going on. And once it was on without any immediate display of consequence, she let out a small sigh of relief. “Something of a good sign,” she echoed in half-agreement and patted the extension down a little bit, just to be that little bit of extra sure that everything was intact and would remain intact.
Once the bite-sized sorceress seemed satisfied, she went on to swiftly wipe the slate clean of any excess ingredients - close shop a bit prematurely, wrap up, set it all aside - and then proceeded to take several steps back to allow the Inquisitor some space. Far enough to not be ensnared in friendly fire, but close enough to still quickly jump in and get that thing off him if this project decided to go way down south.
“Start small first, then work your way up as a test?” she suggested with crossed arms over her chest, head cocked to the side. “Let me know if you feel anything else weird, too - detail’s important. We can learn from the sensations it gives you.” It’s entirely possible (and likely, to be honest) that it may need frequent tweaking to achieve absolute perfection, but she was confident it was a successful start.
Upon getting situated with the new limb, Max’s first thought was that it felt similar to having the Anchor anyway - that was a different type of magic, not meant for mortals to wield and tied to the Veil, but what drew the comparison was the heated sensation that rippled up and down his arm. It traveled along its course, up to his shoulder and spreading out toward the center of his chest, as he wiggled the brand-new fingers and observed how the limb actually worked once it was on.
The lyrium, in conjunction with the right additional boosts, really did allow it to move - color him impressed.
“It feels kind of hot - I mean, there’s a burning but I doubt we can do away with that entirely,” he noted. “Maybe dull it some more.” However, to squelch it altogether would also be dulling the effects of the lyrium - and then the arm wouldn’t move at all.
Now, to try to cast. Fire was what he’d been having trouble with - along with ice, and lightning zaps. The elements. His necromancy spells hadn’t really been practiced much either, but for now, he’d start with one of those elementals. There was a simultaneous flex of the muscles in both arms, both hands which flipped over with the palms up, a flex of mental muscle too - and the ice he meant to conjure was a wall.
Literally, from floor to ceiling, separating him and the redheaded sorceress.
“Uh...Lina?” Admittedly, he probably overshot with that - but he was so used to having to practically blow a brain vessel to cast while off balance. “Don’t worry, my face is still intact.” Then again, he hadn’t tried to summon fire yet.
Lina felt the temperature drop around them, especially at a summon of something cold - she hadn’t expected a demonstration like this as a test, though was pleased to hear that his face wasn’t sliding off his skull considering that the sheet of ice was distorting the image of him. “Way to Donald Trump me with this wall, but good to know,” she chuckled on the other side, knocking on it to test it. Brrrr. “Not too shabby there, Max. Stretch those muscles again if you’re up for it. Go a little farther, take this down.”
Don’t worry about this one; the sorceress was prepared in case things went a little bit overboard with his enhanced magic - it’d taken her awhile to adjust to the Demon Blood talismans when they came into her possession, and it really was just a matter of testing things out (which meant destruction, a lot of it). An arm that was meant to be a functioning limb and fulfilling the purpose of some kind of power-increasing talisman? Talk about a doozy. She slid a few steps back, held her fist in front of her and then opened it was a breath was exhaled. With it came a chant, barely audible, but it changed the air around them by creating visible ripples. It was a shield she conjured, and it would deflect any friendly fire. “Let it rip.”
In a non-farty way.
Let it rip (in a non-farty way), alright, fair enough. “You mean let it go?” he quipped, because...ice walls. And Frozen. And how it was annoying beyond words. Oh wait, that last part didn’t have to do with anything - mostly it was just his attempt at a horrible joke.
But he focused a second later, palms facing the wall he’d just inadvertently constructed. Max could feel the flow of the lyrium actually working, a smooth mechanism which both got the arm to move and enhanced his own magic. It was like something had allowed his aura to expand, his whole connection with the Fade augmented just when he wore the arm and all parts locked together and shifted with fine precision.
At first, the wall just cracked down the center, pressure causing it to give way. Then, in conjunction with magic pulled from the Fade (much easier for him to get a figurative grip on it now), the wall just about drowned in a wintry light, then dissolved entirely.
“Not bad,” he hummed, flexing the fingers again. “Let me get my staff, to see how it works holding that and with the staff as a conduit too.”
Yes, cheeseball, she got the reference - points for the glistening frost show he’d turn the obstacle between them into, it was very Disney-like. Queen Elsa would be proud. Quips aside, though, all seemed to go well? Lina was mostly glad the arm and what they’d done to alter it was demonstrating to be fairly compatible with him. “Roger that,” she chirped, keeping the shield up since the testing was to proceed. It wasn’t an invasive spell and she’d modify it to make it move with her if all necessary.
“We can also give it a more combative test drive if you’re up for it. Just to see how it’d go when you’re in the middle of battle?” It was how she’d kept her own arsenal of spells honed - offensive magic was what she was used to, and if Orange County wasn’t throwing all sorts of shit at them to throw things at back, then she’d summon a golem or something similar to be a moving target. Particularly when wanting to test the force behind a spell and seeing the effects on something that wasn’t a personally valued item, or public property. “After these completed babysteps, I mean. Hopefully we can get the kinks out before the actual heat of battle. I don’t want it malfunctioning on you for whatever reason.”
“That’s probably a good idea. We can go outside, in the courtyard, and feel free to throw things at me? I also want to see how long it takes before I begin to feel dizzy,” Max replied, fingers closing around the Wrath of Lovias, which he then shouldered in the carrier worn on his back. The weapon was meant for wintry magic and the cold, to weave spells that Queen Elsa would experience heart flutters over - the staff even looked wintry, with a mysterious aura of what resembled dry ice swirling around the top; it appeared to be beautifully carved from ice as well.
But he knew that he couldn’t keep the lyrium-infused arm on as a 24-hour thing. It was too dangerous, and he already promised Nasir that he wouldn’t - at least his partner had an inkling of what lyrium poisoning would look like, and he’d definitely step in if Max went too far with wearing this new limb.
Trevelyan had been wanting to try out the dream gift, the Wrath of Lovias, for awhile now though. “Maybe not grenades, but...something.” He honestly couldn’t wait to see how the weapon fared in times of action, besides the memories he had of Thedas.
Wintry, and shiny. Staffs were sometimes used in the world she dreamed of - it was usually a sign of priesthood (or if you were a demon fucking troll pretending to be a priest), utilized for the about the same purpose Trevelyan had it for. Lina’s fingers were so drawn to touch it but she’d ask to look at it later; it was kind of rude to touch a mage’s stick without permission, hehe. “Outside, then, so we can avoid collateral damage,” she agreed and motioned him along, embarking on the short journey outdoors beyond the scholarly tower.
Out in the fresh air and open area, the earthy ground beneath them. Her deflection spell was cancelled for the next one. “No grenades, nothing crazy. Um, a golem target would probably work best in this scenario?” Her boots twisted into the dirt a bit, a kick at some loose pebbles. If there was one somewhat useful thing a certain blimp-breasted sorceress with goldfish poop for brains taught her, it was a couple summoning spells - a bit of a wordy chant flowed from her lips, and her palm opened up face down. There was a small, concentrated quake and the turf shifted and began piling. Rocks and soil atop of the other, building and towering until it began taking a bulky humanoid shape of stone with a hilariously tiny head for its size.
Look, it wasn’t perfect, but it would work.
“Here’s your target!” the little redhead explained, gesturing at it with her arms. It was also important to note that it wasn’t the most menacing thing in existence - Naga had always been able to somehow mold hers into soldier-like beings, and this one was sort of awkwardly adorable in a semi-hideous way. Guh. “Wave at him, rock-puppet.”
Listening to the caster’s orders, it rose its stubby boulderish fingers and waved.
“Oh, Maker - “ Max had to laugh at the appearance of the rock creature, especially when it waved at him. “It’s kind of cute. I don’t know if I can make him a target.” But this was important, just a few blasts to test out how he could maneuver the staff with both arms, and also the strength of those magical blasts? Trevelyan wanted to get back into fighting with the correct weapons - he just felt better, out there in the heart of a good fight, if he had the right stick so to speak. Casting with just himself as the conduit was possible but something like the Wrath of Lovias really made things flow better, and helped him focus.
Alright, let’s see. He backed up a good distance from Lina (and the dopey-looking golem) and removed his staff from its holder. As soon as he twirled it and aimed, the blast of freezing cold magic was pulled from the Fade, channeled through Max’s own self, and released from the crystal-like end of the staff in a burst that hit the rock thing square in the chest, pebbles raining down in a shower. It had been awhile since Max had even held any staff; there was a certain amount of glee in it, in getting used to the feel of the left hand gripping the handle, working in conjunction with the right, in ways that he couldn’t have done with a regular prosthetic.
He tried another blast, and another, also focusing on footwork - when using a staff, the fight was concentrated in the legs a lot. The right footing added force to the blows. And he felt the literal burn of it too, could have sworn his arm was actual flesh and blood - as the lyrium thrummed and glowed in the crevices of his arm, it pulsed, it almost seemed to sear the insides of what remained of that arm and up toward his shoulder. Not that it hurt, not really, but it didn’t feel great - however, he had known there would be uncomfortable sensations while wearing even a processed version of one of the most deadliest substances in Thedas. That was a trade-off, and Max would gladly take it.
The next blast was fire, and something went amiss - because a nearby bush suddenly went up in flames instead. “Oops - sorry about that,” he huffed, a bit surprised. He probably just had to ease into throwing fire again too.
Dopey-looking it may be, but the golem was sturdy, thick with earth and the magic that kept it moving. Lina put some distance between the mage and his conjured target to keep clear of any spells gone awry, but she was still in close proximity to puppet the non-sentient creature if need be - right now it was mostly stationary for them to gauge the damage of the enhanced spells, and boy did it crumble in with the force it was hit with. Not entirely pulverized, but there was still enough material to reform it back to its standing and whole position.
Except it was probably more important to deal with the sudden bit of landscape that was set ablaze, and she blinked wide from the sudden fiery brightness. “Well - scorched foliage is probably not something Leliana wants in her wedding photos,” she snickered, and snapped her fingers for a small aqua create spell. It summoned water from the air around it to at least put it out before it spread elsewhere, like anything wooden or the straws of hay.
Though now it was a sopping wet mess of burnt shrubbery that looked unsightly. Eh, shit burns down. It was a fact of life. “From an outsider’s view everything looks good, casting-wise - but the truth is going to be on how you feel with the arm. It seems to really pack a punch behind the spells, so that’s going to be real handy, no pun intended. Practice more with it at any chance you get is my advice, but also just…take moments to examine how it feels?”
They’d manage to infuse something inanimate with a dangerous substance described to also be living. Nothing may be going wrong now, but that didn’t mean Max was scot-free yet.
Good thing the fire didn’t spread to any bit of the herb garden either - Max would shed so many tears if something happened to his beautiful cultivations. But with the flames now squelched, and him slightly out of breath, he twirled the staff over his shoulder and let it rest across his back once more. Not a bad workout, really.
“It does feel - well, it burns, like I said. I kind of expected that though,” Trevelyan stated, but he also inhaled carefully, lungs shifting, then exhaled to sort of ground himself. To root himself, actually - one of those tai chi moves that he’d practiced with Morrigan when he was learning to shapeshift.
He didn’t feel dizzy or nauseated yet, but that would happen after awhile of wearing the arm. “I’ll take those moments though. And will just have to test it for as long of a period as I can stand - as soon as I feel awful, it’ll come off,” he assured, just in case Lina thought he was going to do something dumb like keep it on constantly. “Thank you so much for this, by the way. I can’t even tell you how much better I feel already - lyrium discomfort and fires and all.”
But this was his identify as a mage being solidified again. He felt like himself once more, and after months of being so off-kilter, it was incredible to get a bit of his soul back.
“Oh, and I guess I should tell you now?” Max lifted an eyebrow, unable to fight a grin. “Solar power will be all set up here in time for your wedding. So my present is a stay for you and your husband-to-be. Along with mead, for the wedding - it’ll come from the wine cellar. I heard from somewhere that you needed a supply.”
Well, Lina would call it all a success that’d been compleeeeeeeeted, with just the mild destruction - they could look into relieving that burning sensation later on too, since that had the potential of getting very distracting (gods forbid it’d escalate into something worse, too). Magic folks had each other’s back, anyway, and she was happy to help; she couldn’t let a bro of the trade go through life unable to use an energy he was born to harness. Not after with how he’d lost his arm.
“Wait, what,” she blurted, letting the sudden change of conversation process - did he say mead? And staying here?? This almost-wife didn’t have much of chance to think about what would happen the night of the wedding, those ‘consummate marriage’ festivities; All Hallow's Eve was coming up, the last preparations were being done, Luna had volunteered to take Amelia, so Trevelyan’s timing for this gift was - “Seriously? Because that’s awesome! And perfect, we haven’t gotten around to discuss things that far and - eeee!”
It was supposed to be a humanly squeal, accompanied by a very appreciative embrace. And a silent promise to not let the father of her child burn the place down after intense orgasming.
Trevelyan was a little surprised when he was hugged so voraciously by someone so small, but he was happy to return the gesture. And happy to give a gift like this to Lina and her soon-to-be spouse, especially after everything she’d done to help him. “Seriously,” he snickered. “And seriously, enjoy it. Protective magic literally has seeped into the fortress, thanks to ancient elves - nothing should go wrong, so you can relax and...do whatever married people do on the night of their wedding.”
That honey mead was delicious too, he’d sampled a little of it before. Beautiful gold and rich and with a slight aftertaste of elderflower - probably pretty potent too, come to think of it. He’d have those barrels down there for Lina’s outdoor, food truck nuptials no matter what.
Ferocity made up for the lack of height, as proven by the strength behind the excitable squeeze she’d given Trevelyan. Tell her she gets to roll around in a castle for her wedding night and that there’d be barrels of mead, she’d be cartwheeling for days - maybe even literally. “We’ll definitely enjoy it,” she grinned, ear-to-ear. “So, really, thank you. We had trouble figuring out where to get the good mead, and there’s nothing better than honey-wine brewed during the literal dark ages.”
Lina would happily check that all off the list (not the sex bucket list her mother accidentally sent her, to be clear) - everything was falling nicely into place as the date drew closer. “We have to at least celebrate we’ve got a magical arm for you, so I personally think it’s the right time to sample that mead you’re so generously offering.”
“Can’t argue that - the magical arm deserves celebrating,” Max agreed, and he certainly thought so. It was the end of him feeling incomplete, and moving on to something more whole again - he’d gladly accept the drawbacks, when it came to lyrium, if it meant that his magic functioned as it was meant to. “Come on, I’ll show you the way to the wine cellar.”
And if delicious honey mead, plus a stay in a medieval-inspired castle, was what helped him convey his gratitude - then, hey. It was the least he could do.