Raistlin Majere of the Red Robes (hourglass_mage) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-10-21 19:33:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, isabela, raistlin majere |
Who: Raistlin and Isabela
What: The Pirate Lady pays the Mage a visit and receives a request
When: Recently
Where: Raistlin's Apartment
Rating/Warnings Low/None; contains link
Status: Complete!
For the most part, Isabela had retired from the black market book business - but she still would hunt things down for preferred customers on occasion, both rare, vintage books and various artifacts if necessary (it was a pirate’s way, you know), and occasionally she also came across interesting gems that she couldn’t help but do something with. One such book was a hilarious title that she wanted Raistlin to have - because, you know, she’d taken it upon herself to teach him a few tips about throwing knives, so why not cards? He’d learn a thing or two, after he brought his nose out from the depths of reading about witchery and spells and magic stuff. You never knew when that type of defence skill would come in handy. Especially in Orange County!
The copy she had was a bit worn but still in decent condition - it certainly looked vintage, was one-of-a-kind, and fresh from a London delivery. With that, and courtesy of a contact in the good ol’ UK, came a bunch of English candies she wanted to give to Tas. Wine gums, Cadbury roses, royal toffees. Cards as Weapons was protected from the elements and wrapped in paper, the candies in brightly-coloured tins; however; bringing them by was a good excuse to visit the wet dog-scented floor of his and Tas’ building, and he could read this whenever he so chose.
How the bloody hell he even lived here when he could no doubt see the filth and decay up close and personal was a mystery, but then again, living in a pristine bubble was impossible anyway. Poor man. Knocking on the door, she tried to wait patiently for someone to answer and let her in.
The apartment was pretty slummy, there was no getting around that and it wasn’t the place Raistlin had originally wanted to live when he’d moved to California. However, funds had been tight and, well, Tas had somehow made himself in charge of finding their living accommodations. Raistlin really should have known better, but it was hard to say no when a lease had already been forged signed and a security deposit made with a very crabby and discompassionate landlord.
Over the past year, the apartment had kind of grown on Raistlin. It wasn’t much to look at, maybe, but it was home. His home. It had its quirks, like the crazy cat lady across the hall and the 2 am thumping from the neighbors upstairs, but Raistlin hardly noticed the ever present mystery wet animal fur smell, or the cracks in the walls and ceiling or that the plumbing rattled every time someone decided to take a shower.
He had been studying his spellbook - as had become his ritual every day - when he heard a knock on the door. He glanced at the clock on top of the television and raised a brow. He’d been studying for nearly two hours. He supposed that was good enough for the day. Closing his book and putting it away in his bag, he got up to answer the door, pleasantly surprised to see Isabela’s form on the other side.
“Hello, Bela,” he greeted when he opened the door and motioned her inside. His eyes caught on the parcels in her hands. To him, the brightly colored tins looked dull and faded. He arched a brow. “What do you have there?”
“Hello love!” Cheerful when she liked you and a complete and utter barracuda when she didn’t, the stuff even the most fearsome of pirates had nightmares about, Bela blew Raistlin a kiss (she’d have given him one on the cheek but her hands were occupied at the moment, so later) and stepped into the flat. “I do come bearing gifts. Let’s see, the candies in these tins are for Tas - he’s probably been to London, but a fellow I knew who was doing some scrounging sent me a bunch of things in addition to what I asked for.”
On purpose, mind you. Because sometimes she just had to indulge in Cadbury chocolate - honestly, it was world’s better than Hershey’s. You’d have to be completely desperate to eat that chemical-tasting nonsense. “And this book’s for you,” she passed over the wrapped parcel, once she’d set down the tins. “I thought you might need something else to read besides words and more words all about spells.”
Raistlin raised a brow. Truth be told he had no idea if Tas had been to England, or even out of the country, however, Raistlin wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he had. Tas had a way of embellishing stories, but he had done a lot of traveling, even after he had met the Majeres. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate them,” Raistlin nodded, however, the idea of a sugar fueled Tas was not one of Raistlin’s favorites.
He blinked when Isabela handed him the book. Retired or not, the pirate lady had been invaluable in locating rare tomes Raistlin had a desire to read, and there wasn’t anyone else Raistlin trusted to look for them and charge him a fair price for her efforts. However, he didn’t recall requesting anything recently. Unless...that other presence was taking over more than he even realized.
However, when Isabela handed him over the package and he saw the slightly worn book inside, his shoulders relaxed under his shirt. “Cards as Weapons,” he read the title and a small smirk came over his features. “Really, Bela.”
She was glad that Raistlin seemed to find some amusement in her impromptu gift. Isabela was a woman who always saw herself as selfish and immoral, who scrambled over the backs of men, using every trick in the book and then some to survive as a woman in a man’s world - in her dreams, she ruined her life because she chose to protect a single ship’s worth of people meant to be sold into slavery, because she believed that strongly in drawing the line there. Here, she had almost ruined her life when she left Orange County - but she was glad she didn’t. Bela stuck around, for moments like these.
“Or I could just give you more knife-throwing lessons,” she grinned cheekily, and went to go take a seat on the sofa. The wet dog smell dissipated the longer you were in the flat, and she was rather hoping a bit of a catch-up could happen. It’d been awhile since she sat down with good old Raistlin. “How have you been, love?”
Worrying about the effects of his magic on his health was also there; Isabela ought to keep a better eye on him.
“That might serve me better,” Raistlin chuckled mildly as he flipped through the book. It didn’t look as though it was a serious lesson in actually using cards as weapons, but it appeared as though there were a number of sleight of hand tricks to learn. Sleight of hand tricks was something his Counterpart had quite a talent for, but he somehow still lacked. This could come in handy, even if Isabela had meant it more of a gag gift. “Still, this will be an entertaining read. Thank you.”
He had a seat as well in one of the other chairs and shrugged mildly. “Dreams are progressing, however, their frequency remains sporadic at best. Tas seems to Dream more than I do, as does Kit. However, it appears they have more time to span in them than I.” Though Raistlin had a feeling that was likely to change at some point. Kit couldn’t be the only one who would dream of their childhood in Solace. Some things had happened to him and Caramon - mostly him if his eyes and golden skin in the Dreams were any indication. “However, I haven’t learned anything new in regards to the bleed over effects I’ve received.” He paused a moment, glancing at Bela next to him. “That being said, I have been experiencing something...different...recently.”
“Something different, yet you’ve learned nothing new? That sounds ominous,” she frowned a little, but sat back and crossed her legs, folding her hands across her abdomen. The very picture of a listening ear! Well, Isabela could be, for those she gave a shit about. And being married had done her some good - falling in love, during all those trials and tribulations in Kirkwall, made her a baby kitten stumbling around and she had no idea what to do with all that. At least this version sort of did.
Honestly, she was prepared for Raistlin to tell her that he was morphing into a unicorn or something. Though that was world’s apart from death-and-decay-o’vision. “I’ll help you if I can, sweets, you know that.”
“I suppose it does sound a bit ominous,” Raistlin admitted, especially since he couldn’t explain it. “I’m not sure,” he said carefully. “I think it may be Dream related. Or more so, I rather prefer it to be. It sounds far less crazy that way.” He paused for a moment before reaching for the messenger back in which he kept his spell books. If only he were morphing into a unicorn or something. That would be at least something physical, something that could be dealt with on the outside and dealt with rather than this feeling.
“I’ve been having these odd episodes of disassociation,” he explained as he took out a thin notebook from the bag. “Not often. Actually so far only twice, but they’ve been very distinct, as if for a few moments, I’m simply not there. Not in my own body.”
Alright, that was bloody weird. “People pay good money for drugs that’ll do that, you know,” Isabela quipped, but the look in those burnished gold eyes betrayed her concern. “Like you’re a spirit or something, you mean? An out of body experience?”
Definitely sounded like an acid trip, but she could see why Raistlin would be worried - or if he wasn’t, he should be, because what if he just ceased to exist one of these days? That would be more than a bit awful. “And you’ve no idea what caused it - there’s nothing in your dreams that could make a connection,” she said, though it came out more like a question. Just wanting confirmation. “Have you been keeping track of when it happens?” she asked, referring to the notebook.
The corners of Raistlin’s mouth flickered slightly, down and then up. “Not quite,” Raistlin explained. “Like something else takes over and I sort of...cease to be for a few moments.” Though his voice was calm, and his expression as stoic as ever, he really was worried and the more he thought about it, the more it concerned him. Things were happening in his Dreams, things he didn’t fully understand. Not only that, but he doubted his Counterpart didn’t understand them either. Either that, or he just didn’t care. That was worse than not understanding, in Raistlin’s opinion.
“It’s unclear,” he admitted. “At first I thought it had to do with the Dragon Orb we had found. It’s an orb of unbelievable power and mystery. They were crafted hundreds of years ago during a great war on the continent to control dragons. My Counterpart attempted to harness the power himself and...it did not go particularly well. I wondered if maybe it had triggered something, but then I remembered that I..that is he...had heard a voice advising him long before my traveling party and I ever laid hands on the orb.”
Raistlin tapped the notebook against the palm of his hand. “Yes, I decided I should start documenting my experiences. It was your husband’s suggestion actually.” Now Raistlin did frown slightly. “I should have thought to do so myself before now,” he stated, somewhat disgusted with himself. “It hadn’t even crossed my mind until I had an experience while speaking with Hawke about magic. Regardless I noted the first two experiences I had and one more I’ve had since then.”
Control dragons. Isabela snorted a laugh. “They’re beautiful creatures, but dangerous - or at least, they are in my own dreams. Controlling them sounds ambitious in any world though.” Now she sort of understood - seemed like Raistlin had a voice in his head, in a very literal sense. It sounded familiar, in a way.
“Mages in Thedas, they risk possession by demons and turning into Abominations,” she shared - but it was possible he already knew this, if he’d talked to Hawke. “It’s just sort of a risk, because demons are attracted to them, especially when they sleep and enter the Fade in dreams - demons are always on the prowl for a shiny host. Maybe that’s what happening? Maker’s ass cheeks, Raistlin, I hope you don’t end up taken over by some dark entity.”
She also didn’t think he ought to be hard on himself for not thinking of writing things down - it was overwhelming, to not even know what was happening to you. Most didn’t think straight at first. “You’re writing it down now, that’s the important thing,” Bela said. “Anything I can do? Should we come up with a possession contingency plan - need someone to exorcise that dark presence from you?”
If it happened in Thedas, that didn’t spell out good things for the mage, but. Things were different here.
“Oh, yes, very dangerous,” Raistlin agreed with something of a humorless smile. “My Counterpart was held hostage by a massive Red Dragon. She held him down with a single claw against his chest and threatened to gut him should his companions do anything against her wishes.” He paused a moment, “interestingly enough, that was the first time I can recall he heard that voice. He was about ready to use a very powerful spell, which likely would have sapped all of his energy, if not gravely wound him, and the voice stopped him. Told him to wait, bide his time.” It hadsounded helpful, this voice, this other, but Raistlin was not at all convinced that this voice, this presence was guiding him to be helpful. “I’m not sure if the ordeal triggered the...voice, but that is the first time I remember hearing it in the Dreams. And one of the few.”
Raistlin shifted slightly in his seat. He couldn’t help being hard on himself. He was a mage, but he had been a scientist first. It was in a scientist’s nature to document. That’s what separated science from pure shenanigans. He glanced down at the notebook. His experiences penned within in his neat block style handwriting, detailed as best as he could remember: where he was, what he was doing, who he was with and what it seemed as though he had missed during these periods he was referring to as disassociation. “There is something you can do,” he said before looking up at Isabela again. “If something should happen to me. Should I become...not myself, I want you to take this to someone, another mage. Hawke or Regina. I do trust them both and both are intelligent enough to perhaps find something in my notes that may reverse what’s going on. And, should it become clear that there is no reversing the effects,” he paused for a moment, “I would like for you to promise me that whatever it is that I’ve become is destroyed.”
Isabela wasn’t exactly familiar with Regina, but she did know Hawke - obviously. And intimately at that. “Well, alright,” she said, agreeing without hesitation. She took the notebook and flipped through to give it a look, though magic clearly wasn’t her wheelhouse. Bela was a rogue, with lightning-quick lock-picking hands and the ability to be in your line of vision one second, then literally stabbing you in the back the next. “Even if Hawke can’t reverse it himself, there are others he can consult with to get it done - we’re not going to let you turn into some kind of abomination, I promise.”
As for destroying whatever Raistlin would become - she’d worn those shoes before, and she knew how difficult it would be. Still, it was what he wanted, and the least she could do was grant his wish. “I promise that too,” she nodded. “I’d make it quick, but it won’t come down to that.”
If it did though, they both knew what would happen. A rather depressing contingency plan.
A depressing contingency, perhaps, but as far as Raistlin was concerned, necessary. Death was not his end goal, of course, but he felt a bit better knowing that Isabela would fulfill his wish should the situation become dire. “Thank you, Bela,” he nodded. “I would rather be dead than a puppet for something or someone else.” He pointed at the notebook she held. “I am going to continue to document in that,” he said. “However, I want you to keep it for now. If I know where it is kept, then it is possible that this other presence will know as well and may attempt to destroy it.”
He had expected the other presence in his soul to not be pleased by what he was doing, however, strangely enough he felt nothing. No restless stirring or scurrying about. Either the presence had returned to its usual dormant state, content only to surface whenever talk of power and magic (or both) was being done. Or – more frighteningly – the presence already knew and did not perceive Raistlin’s plans as any kind of threat.
“I understand, love. I’d rather be dead too, if it were me.” Isabela was no puppet, that was for sure, certainly not a meatsack meant to be a host for something dark and nasty, or whatever this was - and Raistlin wasn’t either. She much preferred him as his own self.
She hadn’t realised she’d been holding the notebook tightly in her grip, not until he said something. But she’d looked through it and a lot of it was Greek to her - however, she’d promised to keep it safe and bring it to a mage Raistlin trusted if need be, and that’s what she’d do. “Oh, right, of course - anytime you want to add another entry, I’ll bring it for you and then afterward, hide it someplace else. Or if you want to dictate to me, I can write in it and keep it with me. This thing won’t get you.”
Whatever it was, she already hated it.
“I wish I could do more,” she sighed. “But unless there’s someplace to break into, or something to stab, I’ve not much else to offer.” You couldn’t kill primordial darkness with sexiness either, unfortunately.
It was unlikely that Isabela could defeat this particular form of primordial darkness with her sex appeal. Unfortunate, that. It certainly would have much easier. At least Isabela understood Raistlin’s motives. All the more reason why he had come to her with his requests. He was sure Kitiara was more than capable of killing him if needed. She could and probably would do it, but the notion of asking his sister to do something like that didn’t seem like the right thing to do. Raistlin was a lot of things, but he was no monster. Not yet anyway.
He gave Isabela a ghost of a smile. “What you are able to offer is important,” he said. “And I have one more thing to ask you. Keep an eye on me. Note anything odd or weird I might do or say. Note in down for me.”
Well, she was observant also - so if nothing else, Bela would do a fantastic job keeping an eye on her high-cheekboned friend here. “I already poke at you regularly to remind you to eat occasionally, right?” she smirked, though she knew these days it was a lot more difficult for Raistlin to find something appealing. Considering everything probably looked like it was rotting - not the most appetising thing, right? Still, he need nourishment and to keep his strength up.
“I’ll keep an eye on you, see if you do anything more weird than usual - and still poke you about eating and resting sometimes. It’s more important than ever. You can’t fight off whatever this newish threat happens to be if you’re physically weak,” Isabela pointed out. Her piece of wisdom for the day, straight from the dirty pirate’s mouth to the Maker’s ears!
These days produce, grains and meats tended to look rather disgusting, covered in rot and mold. However, Raistlin had found that a lot of processed foods and meals that could be kept in the freezer for longer periods of time didn’t look too bad, a little freezer burned, perhaps, and devoid of any kind of vibrant colors. As long as he ate it fairly quickly after warming it up and didn’t pay too much attention to what he was putting in his mouth, he could choke it down. Everything still tasted normal, at least. So there was that.
The real issue was Raistlin’s utter lack of appetite. He had never been a big eater, not like his brother, who could have easily eaten the Majeres out of house and home himself if given his way. Since the Dreams had started, since Raistlin had started taking on a few of his counterpart’s physical characteristics, his appetite had nearly vanished completely. Raistlin of Krynn hardly ate anything at all, barely enough to survive. There were enough distractions for Raistlin of Orange County that if Isabela hadn’t occasionally poked him via text or phone call or physical poke in his arm, he probably would have gone days without even thinking of eating. And as Bela had so aptly pointed out, that would do him no good should this darkness within him decide to manifest itself anymore than it was now.
“Yes,” he nodded, that ghost of a smile still lingering and perhaps not looking quite as faint. “You’re right. Very wise words, Bela, and I really appreciate those reminders. They have been very helpful. Thank you.”
“Oh, don’t get all mushy on me now!” she teased, but not like she was putting up any protest. A flicker of a smile and ‘wise words’ was about as cheerful as Raistlin ever got, but she rather enjoyed his dour personality. It was a friendship she would hold tightly to, because Isabela wasn’t exactly flinging off compatriots left and right - at least not ones, she was willing to slip a blade into at their behest, for the safety of others and to release them from some kind of dark prison.
However, he would do the same for her, if it came to it. She didn’t know what would happen next, though no one could argue that Bela was anything short of determined - so whatever they had to do to see it through, she’d ensure that she’d be there for it. There was always a way out of every mess and then who knew, maybe they’d even get a little bit of normalcy for once.
But that would just be boring, wouldn’t it.