(no subject)

[cullen_fadewalk]

Inquisitor Evelea Trevelyan is currently in our cells. She has been given food, blankets, everything she needs for her comfort while it is decided what is to be done.

In my world, the Herald has committed more war crimes and atrocities than I care to name, all in the pursuit of personal power and glory. She is the most manipulative, most deceitful, most cunning, and most evil person I have ever had the misfortune to meet, and my last memories are of Cassandra and I dying to defeat her rein of blood.

But we're not in my world any longer, and there must be law and order even here.

There will be a trial. Not to determine her guilt or innocence--that cannot be determined here--but whether she will or will not be a danger to us all. I will begin making the necessary preparations as quickly as possible so that she need not remain imprisoned if it is decided she cannot do harm here.

ETA: Again, I stress that we should act quickly. Anders, would you be willing to be a large part of this? You would be ideal, and you could select the deciding voices with the Warden. I trust you both to be just. Alistair and I will recuse ourselves from the decision so there's no Templar involvement. What matters is whether she is safe and whether she is free of demon influence. That is what you need to determine, if you are willing.

( Alistair )

( Private )

RP: Open (In the dungeon of Skyhold)

[evelea_fadewalk]

There was a pallet, a bucket, an ewer of water, and Cullen's cloak. Evelea stared at it for an hour after he left. Sitting in silence, Silenced, she felt unsteady, hollow, her hands shaking and her stomach rebelling if she moved her head too fast.

Stars sparkled in the corner of her vision and she finally settled onto the pallet, pulling his coat around her, hunching down until her ears were covered with the fur. Sleep wouldn't come, or if it did it happened in snippets of blankness, head too muddy to tell the difference.

She must have slept at some point because the flavor of the Templar's silence changed. It was less encompassing, frayed and leaking around the edges, inexpert. The drips of mana that it allowed her were less that it would take to manifest a spark, but it made it easier to think.

To worry, really. About Cullen, about his trial, about the twisty nature of this place, and what had happened to her. It would be easier if Envy would speak to her directly as it had done before.

She pulled the journal out from where she'd tucked it in her belt pouch. "If I write in you is it learning? Or have I already lost and this is what is left?" She whispered the words at the book, then with a sudden hiss of frustration, threw it across the cell. The tears were back, vision swimming. She squeezed her eyes shut and started to pray.

Locked to... nobody. Nope. Nobody at all. (zevranfadewalk)

[exiledalistair]

( Read more... )

RP: Zevran

[exiledalistair]

Maker, this day (was it day? It was tricky with the sky in its state, though it had been darker for a while at least) was just getting better and better. Alistair shook his head again as he ambled down the hallway.

This was what Alistair got for falling in line behind the first person who looked like they knew where they were going who wandered by. They go remanding themselves to justice as if that were a thing and they thought anyone else here had a better grip on reality than they did. Wasn't the whole point that reality seemed to have completely fallen apart?

"Maybe someone will lock me up next. At least then I could have a nap." He stopped at a set of intersecting corridors that also had stairwells leading both up and down and groaned softly. "Whoever designed this place was completely, utterly insane." One of these branches would take him to the storeroom where things like blankets and dry rations were kept. The others... certain death?

Private Entry

[thecryoftheseagulls]

This is madness, all of it. This place, and these people, and Justice in my head yearning for the Fade like he hasn't done in years, ever since that Marian Hawke mentioned an ability to enter the Fade physically. I should be overjoyed for him, that he might finally be free, that my death won't mean his too, when it comes. Whenever it comes.

It terrifies me. He's been this constant presence in my head for so long; I don't know what I would do without him. I'm not the same man I was before we joined.

If Cosa and Fenris were here I think I could bear it - I can bear anything if they are with me, even the loss of half my soul. But they're not; instead there's a gentler Hawke with the wrong hair, and apparently another Hawke who is a man? And then Fenris. Maker. I think I'm putting off meeting this version of Fenris. I don't know if I can stand going back to that - what we were before, the animosity and the hurled insults and the anger. I don't know if I can see him without... at least the Hawkes aren't much like Hawke. That helps, if you can call it helping.

Argh. Everything is fucking terrible. The end. At least Neria is here; that's something. It's been too long.

RP: Open (ALSO in the dungeons of Skyhold) DEMON FIGHT

[cullen_fadewalk]

Cullen left his weapons and armor locked away safely before going down to the dungeons and locking himself into the cell. He carefully pushed the key beyond his reach, then went to sit in the center of the cell with his legs folded beneath him.

He'd thought it through as carefully as he could.

They needed to be able to defend themselves against potential threats that arrived. That much was painfully obvious to him. But they also needed a system of checks and balances to make sure no one would attack a rival and claim it was for the good of the group. Without a governing group or lawkeeper--and with mistrust so easy here--the best solution seemed to be to put himself on trial as well as the woman he was accusing. If he was a danger to the group, they could leave him to rot, and considering Anders was in charge, there was always a chance they would...but as he closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, he felt weirdly almost peaceful.

He'd seen her, he faced her down, and he'd managed to choose justice over vengeance. He'd managed to let reasonable doubt sway him toward what felt like the fairest and safest course that might even help build that law out of chaos they so desperately needed.

He couldn't help but feel Cassandra would be proud of him, even as she threatened to knock him about the head. But he wasn't allowed to be a man with feelings when he had to be the Commander, and this? This was a very good reminder of that.


(OOC: Later, the thread gets a bit bloody. Trigger warning for semi-graphic description of dirty fighting and injury.)

(no subject)

[varricmod]

Maker's furry nutsack.

That is all.

( Kirkwall crew + Varric's Inquisitor )

( Hawkes )