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

[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.