maskormenace | 001: voice

( It's taken Cassandra a great deal of trial-and-error to be able to use the communicator at all. It sits awkwardly in her hands, as if mocking her ineptitude. The thought of people being able to see her face, from a distance, is frankly unnerving, so she quickly discounts the video option. Writing is bad enough when it's ink on paper, so that leaves her with one option she understands, really: voice communication. There are items in Thedas that have a similar function, Cassandra knows, but usually they're not so... bright. And rectangular.

Now, she knows, she is just procrastinating, and she is not the type of woman who likes to waste time. She flicks the audio function, like she'd been taught, and scowls at the device as if she expects it to stare back. )

I do not like this.

( A moment later, it's as though she's just realised she's already turned pressed the button. )

Oh! It's...on?

( Of course it is. And everyone has heard her confusion. Why did anyone think this form of communication was a good idea again? She does her best to gather both her composure and her thoughts. She starts to talk in a clipped staccato: )

I shall be brief. I am not familiar with this technology. Obviously. I was merely wondering if anyone else here is from a world similar to my own. I would like to hear your experiences, if you would share them.

( And she ends the call there partly because she's not sure what else to say but mostly because she's still not convinced that this actually worked. )

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( She stares at the kettle as though she expects it to explode at any given moment, foot tapping against the floor impatiently.

She will... try and take Mahanon's word for it, for now. )

How long has he been here for?

Over a year, I think? Long enough to really alarm me when I heard, anyway. I'll have to ask him again.

[ long enough that his household is pretty well-established. he practically has kids, for mythal's sake. ]

I'm not exactly sure how it works. I'm told it's technology, not magic, but the thing--device?--that brought us here can pluck us out of any point in time.

( Cassandra's lips settle into a disappointed little frown, but truly, she does not comprehend enough about their circumstances to fully articulate her disapproval. )

I've heard some manner of god is behind our presence here.

A.. god? [ a thoughtful frown, then a hesitant shake of his head. ] I don't think so, anyway. Though some of the people here are as powerful as gods. .. In fact, there are definitely a few people I'd love to bring home with us to deal with Corypheus.

I did not think it an actual god. ( They say the Maker works in mysterious ways, but this is a bit much. ) You truly think there are people here who have such power and would want to help us save our world?

( She arches an eyebrow. )

[ his lips quirk, tired despite himself. ] .. I've never asked. It's just.. wishful thinking, really. Corypheus is our problem.

[ how can they ask someone to fix something that has nothing to do with them or with their own world? no, the ancient magister is the inquisition's responsibility.

he startles as the kettle whistles, getting up to turn off the stove and pour for them both. ] --Back to Bull, though.. [ and dorian and cullen. and hawke. ] It gets weirder, if you can believe it. I'm not his Inquisitor. I'm not the one Dorian and Cullen know, either. [ he sets the kettle down on a trivet, sinking down into his seat again, subdued and a little uncomfortable. ] .. Bull just kind of.. went with it. But.. I haven't really spoken much to Cullen and Dorian. It feels awkward, honestly. [ especially given how far along they are in the timeline. ]

( Cassandra stares at her cup of tea as though it has personally wronged her, because it is too difficult to look Mahanon in the eyes as he makes his admission. Still, she is not cruel enough to not gather her strength and properly see him as she replies, brows raised and mouth curled in confusion. )

What do you mean, you are not their Inquisitor? There is only one of you. ( But then a possibility comes to mind and she gasps quite before she can stop herself. )

No - you mean in their timelines, the survivor of the Conclave was someone else?

Yes. [ it had been just as shocking for him-- more so, maybe, thinking of how things might have been. he could have died there-- should have, really, if he considers it. he's an elf, he hadn't cared about the politicking beyond what it might mean in the future for the dalish, for all elves. if he hadn't heard the divine--or worse, if he'd ignored her, which is a horrifying thought--it might very well be someone else sitting across from cassandra right now.

he curls his hands around his cup, thumb brushing the rim. ] .. Strangely, though, Cullen and Dorian's inquisitor was also named Mahanon, and he's also from Clan Lavellan. We just.. look different, and our personalities are different. I don't know about Bull's; I haven't asked, and he hasn't offered.

[ his eyes lift again, expression wry and still tired. ]

.. I'm sorry, I know this is a lot to take in all at once.

( She snorts at that, one of her infamous disgusted noises, cradling the cup of tea between her hands and relishing in its ambient warmth. )

Would you believe me when I say it isn't the strangest news I've heard all week? ( Honestly, sometimes it feels like the last twenty years of her life have just been one impossible event after another.

Her gaze softens, almost kind, as she continues. )

In any case, I must confess I am glad you are still... you.

[ the comment earns a swift, amused grin. ] .. Actually, yes. Yes, I would, all things considered. [ their lives lately are completely mad. and when he thinks about it, after everything he's learned of cassandra, this probably isn't even all that strange in the grand scheme of her life.

when she continues, he finds his face heating, hands tightening a little around his cup. to his supreme embarrassment, his throat feels tight, and he has to duck his gaze to his cup to hide whatever complicated emotional thing his face seems to be doing. ]

I-- [ he swallows. ] Thank you. I'm very-- I'm glad you're you, too. [ he manages a glance back up through his lashes, smile a little fragile at the corners. ] Anyway, who else is going to be my voice of reason?

( It is a strange thing, the sudden surge of affection she feels towards Mahanon, and even she cannot disguise the way the corners of her mouth lift: it is a proper smile. )

Bull? Or Dorian? Perish the thought. At least Cullen would not lead you deliberately astray... ( and her smile falters slightly as she remembers, again, the crux of Mahanon's issues with this world, that they do not remember him, that to them, he has never existed.

It is a pity.

She continues, a bit more roughly: )

In any case, it does not matter. You have me.

( The words feel right, she finds. Fate has lead them here, and she has to believe in something.

And that something might as well be him. )

001: voice

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