Maker of the World, forgive them! [CLOSED]

[morework]

Who: Cullen Rutherford (morework) & Anders (circlejerked)
Where: First floor, room 003
When: Wednesday, 02/10
Rating: PG-13 for mutual antagonising?
Summary: This floor is not big enough for two people with the same voice actor.
The Story:

Cullen steps into the plain room the way other men would step into a den of monstrous spiders. The first he found empty, but in truth he should not seek out any of them, at all. A thing which changes on a whim, and claims that it only follows their wishes? He should not be here. He should not be in here, but Maker, Maker, forgive him, he is bone tired.

Cullen steps forward, and watches his surroundings warily. He thinks he catches something like red lines by the mirror, but when he looks closely they are gone. Or perhaps never there, nothing but a reflection of his features, exhausted and ashen. Drained, but he tries not to think on it, that there is a sharp pain in his stomach where his strength ought to be. That his throat is dry, and that he wonders if meals are the only thing Wonderland gives freely.

Cullen sinks down on the bed. The room is plain and unchanged still. He would wonder how long it might stay that way, and what effort it would take to make it so. If such an effort would even be a victory at all, or merely a different desire which this place chooses to grant. He would wonder, but his eyes close before he can, and he drifts off to sleep.

Comments

[morework]

"It is." Cullen is not laughing. His glance trails to the mirror, once. Or twice. "And it does." Three times. And he looks fine. Arse.

...He looks tired, and Anders is not helping. Anders is not asking a single question about the future, which is just as well for Cullen, who wouldn't much care to elaborate, but shouldn't it be of more interest to- to anyone? More interest in general, but certainly of more interest than this room.

Cullen looks around, frowning unsure. It is as plain as it was when he entered it, as plain as he demanded for it to stay. As plain as any empty room he's discovered since his arrival. Chosen only for its property of being the closest empty room to the entrance hall.

"What of it? It looks just like all the others."

[circlejerked]

And that's it? Anders stares, expression blank.

Does everyone in this Maker-forsaken dimension simply accept time magic with a smile and a nod this easily? For those who've lived the future, perhaps it's a reality one has no choice but to take in stride. For someone who hasn't, hearing of an entire decade he has no knowledge of is a bit like being blindfolded in an already pitch-black room, left to flail and bump into furniture he can't see coming.

Well, forget that. Let the templar believe what he wants--and he will no matter what Anders says. The present is where he roots his attention.

"I'm supposed to think finding you here is pure chance?" Sighing, Anders sees no way around spelling it out. "There are ten floors and infinite choices. You picked a room to stay in near mine because you liked the neighborhood?"

[morework]

Chance, as opposed to--? If anyone here was in charge of assigning rooms, then their presence has eluded Cullen entirely so far. They all seemed freely available to those who wish them, or those whose needs must, for even a moment's rest. And strategy? Suppose there could be benefit in certain locations, but Cullen has not been here nearly long enough to make such discoveries.

But none of that is what Anders meant, is it? A room near his. Maker, this cannot be as ridiculous as it sounds. The implication that- what, Cullen hunted the mage down, not to take action, but to monitor him? So poorly that Anders would catch him asleep on the job the very first day? This is insult and injury hand in hand, and Cullen rolls his eyes with corresponding zest.

"They're all the same," he repeats slowly, as such a complex message apparently requires time to sink in. "This one was nearest to the entrance."

[circlejerked]

It's exactly as ridiculous as it sounds.

"Can you blame me for thinking it's more than coincidence? As I recall, you were aiming to be templar of the year back in the Circle Tower." Anders props his hands on his hips. Perhaps Cullen's memory's waned in ten years, but the templars are known for their ridiculous extremes--especially the dutiful ones. He's not convinced they both just so happened to pick the most tactically-sound area to stay in case they need to get to the entrance in a hurry...

Actually, that does sound fairly reasonable, but damned if Anders is going to admit that. He's committed to his suspicion the way Chantry sisters are committed to the Chant.

[morework]

--He has a point, perhaps. Cullen did not push for Anders' pursuit in the woods, thinking himself outmatched by circumstances. But here? Now that he's had time to assess the situation? Perhaps Anders should be guarded more closely, especially if he intends to stay among them, rather than secluded in the forest. No such luck as out of sight, out of mind.

"And now I'm no templar at all, anymore. And our abduction seemed the greater concern by far."

He crosses his arms. Ten years, what does that say about the mage's state of mind? About his dealings with spirits and demons? A long, a very long time ago Cullen thought that minds could not twist without leaving marks on the body as well, but he was wrong. He stares into Anders' eyes, and wishes he knew just what he was even looking for.

"--All the same, if you don't trust yourself without supervision, then I can make appropriate arrangements for you."

Perhaps Cullen already knows that this is the opposite of what Anders meant to achieve. Perhaps.

[circlejerked]

Anders is immediately hung up by Cullen's next sentence. "Not a templar anymore?" he echoes. Surprise relaxes the stern grip he has over his features. If Cullen were to look closely, he might detect a hint of delighted hope in the way Anders' eyes widen. "Did they put you out to pasture permanently?"

Maker's breath, a dishonorable discharge would be the best news he's heard in a while. Cullen walking away of his own volition would still mean one less templar, and that's good news in any world, under any circumstances.

So amused is he at the prospect of the Templar Order being down a man, he fails to bristle at the threat right away. It feels like a threat the way he let the word "arrangements" hang between them, but after a moment's consideration Anders cocks his head, wondering if this is what Cullen trying to get a rise out of him looks like. Humor is not his strong suit.

"I'm not the one who passed out with his door open, remember. Spy on me all you like, the most you'll find is a Warden doing Warden business." He's curious to see if the hint embedded in his reply shifts some pebbles at the base of Cullen's mountain of secrets. He's still a Warden, still stationed in Ferelden, still theoretically out of the Chantry's clutches.

[morework]

He rolls his eyes. And yet, whether Anders meant it or not, Cullen grudgingly admits to himself that the assumption would hardly have been so far-fetched at the time. Greenfell is an uncomfortable place to remember on any day, without bringing to mind that, at the time, Cullen sometimes wondered if he would be called back to a proper Circle at all. He was, of course, and at the time he thought what he felt in response was relief.

"My time with the Order was done," he says as plainly as he can think to, without Kirkwall and all that came after to give it colour. Without making Anders privy to his own reasons. Hardly the point now, is it?

"And I'm not the one who woke me for this- futile debate. What legitimate business could the Grey Wardens possibly have in Wonderland, anyway?"

[circlejerked]

"So... that's a yes?" Implying that if it's not a yes, Anders is still going to tell everyone who asks that it was.

He suspects he won't get much in the way of elaborate details without--Maker forbid--opening up some kind of dialogue with Cullen and holding a proper conversation. For obvious reasons, the chances of that happening are slim to none. Anders is prepared to get comfortable with his dissatisfaction and he hopes Cullen feels the same way.

"I don't know, we there may be plans in the works to take over. Establish a new fortress. Refortify the armories with the magic closets," he says with an absent shrug. You know, Warden business. The very-believable-and-not-at-all-bullshit kind. "How does one sleep deprived retiree manage to fall through a hole in time and end up here?"

[morework]

"I'm with the Inquisition now," he says, because there is no retirement, no green pastures, forced or otherwise. "They are better suited to address Thedas's problems than the Order-" -ever was? No, no such concession. Not yet. "-has been of late."

Does it even matter? It's rather obvious how serious Anders is- isn't taking their conversation.

"I stood on a balcony. Apparently that is all it takes."

There was a salient point to their conversation, once. Cullen catches a glimpse of it again. So:

"Neither of us are here by choice. Nor am I here," here, this room, he indicates with a wave of his hand, "by any reason other than chance."

[circlejerked]

"You mentioned that before," Anders recalls slowly, faint distaste and curiosity alike in the downturn of his lips. The Inquisition. Cullen's mention of the bygone institution had in part been what had made Anders think it best to vamoose the night they'd met. Reunited. Whatever. "The Inquisition helped make the Templar Order. I studied history."

His tone clearly says what he doesn't: so don't think to pull a fast one on me. You can't rejoin an ancient order that doesn't exist... or can you? A lot can happen in a decade.

But does he want to believe it? In time... being not quite what it seems?

He grasps for alternatives, but there's no logical explanation for Cullen's appearance. His eyes and the unwavering certainty they hold, set in a face chiseled by years and experience, do more to sell Cullen's story than his words ever could, and Anders doesn't know what to do with that. He casts a reluctant look around the room again, frown growing, looking like someone chasing their own tail with the heavy-hearted acceptance they won't be able to catch it.

It's an odd sensation, feeling that a templar--or a man that had dutifully been a templar at one point--is telling the truth. When was the last time he had cause to take a templar at their word? He can't remember if there'd ever been a time he hadn't distrusted them on principle.

"So you're from the future. And you just happened to arrive here around the same time as me. And you just happened to take a room near mine. And that's all... pure coincidence?"

[morework]

"You're not wrong about history," is all he will say on the matter, because the present is another one entirely, and the way there is- if not complicated, then at the very least deserving of more words than he thinks Anders would listen to. Coming from him, anyway.

And yes, yes, it is, he almost says, as coincidental as his influence can make it, but isn't that the rub? Cullen crosses and uncrosses his arms. A hand comes to rest on the hilt of his sword. Forlorn, with no proper culprit to draw it on.

"None of this is coincidence, but whatever the plan here may be, I have neither a hand in making it, nor knowledge of its extent."

Other than far greater than any rooming concerns, but must he make another futile stab at that point? Cullen sighs sharply.

"That we are trapped here concerns us all. I asked for your help when I arrived, I will not to so again. As long as you make no attempts to keep us here I could not care less what you do, or where you do it."

Entirely true that may not be, depending on what intricate madness might escape Cullen's imagination at the time, but for a mission statement it rings true enough.

[circlejerked]

He's not wrong about the past and he doubts he's wrong about the present, but he bites his tongue before saying it out loud. Sniping loses its effectiveness when you're at a disadvantage--and in this moment he's painfully aware Cullen knows more than he's letting on. An annoying disadvantage.

"Hm, it's a stretch to see you responsible for all of this, I'll give you that. Magic closets seem like a punishment for you, not devised by you. But I don't recall you asking for help so much as demanding it. I believe the word 'chaos' was used. Would it kill you to use a 'please'?"

It's possible Anders' fondness for hyperbole is working double time. Truth be told, Cullen had asked before whipping out the condescension, but Anders had been too surprised and wary at his sudden appearance to believe the request genuine. Reconsidering their exchange in light of the new information he's gained and thinking he could have... maybe... possibly... read the situation wrong is something he's not sure he has the intestinal fortitude for.

Just because he isn't the public enemy at the top of Cullen's to-do list now doesn't mean he wouldn't find a way to trip him up later. You can take the boy out of the Templar Order, but can you take the Templar Order out of the boy?

[morework]

That he would invite it for his own ends, Cullen remembers. Would any ends be served if he reveals what he meant then, what he knows now? He thinks that there would be little to gain, for either of them; that the man in front of him would treat it a ridiculous accusation at best. Although if he did, and if he meant it, then perhaps that is a good sign for a different course.

"The Anders I last met had enough to atone for without empty pleas. I pray to the Maker that you can yet become someone other than him."

He steps towards the door then, in as wide a berth around Anders as the space will permit. For a person who so incessantly objects to Cullen's room being near his own at all Anders certainly has very few qualms about spending an incessantly long time in Cullen's room itself. About that - and about much else - Cullen can think of nothing conducive to add for the time being.

And so, a strategic retreat. He stops on the threshold, to glance over his shoulder.

"If I must stay here long enough to go back to any room, then this will be the one I choose. Do with that what you will."

Set it on fire, probably. Cullen tries not to follow more possibilities to their conclusion. Instead he walks out into the corridor.

[circlejerked]

What does that mean, 'had done enough to atone for'?

"I know what you pray for. Don't hold your breath," is the first unthinking retort out of his mouth. He's so used to being told to atone that it's second-nature to remind those praying for his salvation that he'll never be the subservient, slack-jawed doormat they want all mages to be. And Cullen, especially, is the fact of that exact way of thinking.

But before he can begin to wonder if there's more to it than that, Cullen makes a move toward him. Anders maneuvers out of the way with a questioning frown, but it's not, as it turns out, a move toward him so much as toward the door.

"You're leaving? Just that like?" Anders almost can't believe this is the anticlimactic result of finding Cullen in the mansion--it's not quite what he'd been expecting. Cullen seems... different. Subdued? No, maybe more like restrained. He doesn't seem inclined to rip the chord from the curtains and try to tie his hands together with him, and that's all Anders can ask for. Best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He still gives the retreating templar a strange look, though.