maskormenace | 001: voice

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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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See you soon, Bull.

[He hangs up, then. Aiming to make his way toward the aforementioned destination. It'll take a good half hour, though -- even with the porters, it's a hike.]

[But sooner or later, he'll show up. Complete in a pair of awful, neon yellow workout pants -- reading "SUN'S OUT, BUNS OUT" cheerfully across the back.]

( There is something to be said for being reunited with old friends. She is sitting out the front of her house when Bull meanders into sight, and whatever she had been meaning to say to him flies out of her head. She takes a step towards him, and once they are close enough, she says: )

What in the name of the Maker are you wearing?

[His face creases into a lopsided grin as soon as she comes into view. That's the Seeker he knows. But, of course, since he's the Iron Bull, he has to screw around a little.]

Well, pants, last time I checked. Unless they fell off on the way over.

[Hands on his hips, proudly displaying the horrific pants.]

Nice to see you too.

Yes, you are indeed wearing pants. ( She supposed it could be worse. Thank the Maker for small mercies. Raising a hand to her eyebrows and making a show of squinting, she continues: )

They hurt the eyes.

( Ah, but it cannot be helped, and she knows better than to challenge Bull on his clothing choices. Standing aside so she is no longer blocking the doorway, she asks him: )

Would you like to come inside?

They're great. Aren't they? I've got like ten pairs.

[Not an exaggeration. Not by a long shot. He laughs at her reaction, turning around so she can better see the back of them.]

[A nod, with that same, lopsided Iron Bull grin.]

Sure thing. I haven't seen the inside of these places yet.

( She frowns as she tries to make sense of the text on the back of Bull's pants, repeating the phrase underneath her breath before murmuring to herself more than anyone else: what does that even mean?

In any case, she opens the door and holds it open for Bull as she gestures indoors. )

You've not been inside a house?

Well, you know how it is -- not built for horns!

[He laughs, then. Like he just told a fantastic joke. But steps in after her, grinning.]

Nah, I have. Just meant these ones over here. They camped me out in Nonah with a bunch of kids.

They housed you with children? ( Sorry (not that sorry) she can't disguise the surprise from her tone. In she leads, meandering through to the kitchen. )

Three of 'em.

... and they're all alive and well, thanks.

[OH YE OF LITTLE FAITH, CASS.]

Did I say I was concerned? ( Not outright, but still. She pulls up a chair at the table and sits heavily, hands folded atop one another. )

In any case, I believe you had something to tell me.

I know concerned when I see it.

[With an eyebrow waggle.]

[One that rapidly fades away into seriousness. He swings around another chair, sitting backward.]

Yeah. It's not pretty, either. There's a mole in the Inquisition. And it's not me, for once.

( Cassandra's eyes momentarily flutter shut as she processes the news, looking nervously at Bull once she opens them once more. )

How could this happen?

Because the asshole's even better than a Ben-Hassrath at hiding his shit, apparently.

[He inhales slowly, leaning forward on the table. Expression serious, pointed.]

Solas. According to Cullen, all the crap that went down with the Breach? With Corypheus?

His fucking fault.

( Cassandra tenses as Bull leans in, bracing herself for the worst as though his words might physically impact upon her.

And when he says Solas's name, Cassandra's fingers curl into fists on her lap. )

No. He was there from the very beginning, he --

( But you know, when she starts to think about it, it makes an awful amount of sense.

Doesn't it? )

Yeah. He was, wasn't he?

[He says it slowly. Watching her face. It was a lot to absorb, he knew that. He still couldn't really believe it.]

He's that guy the elves talk about. That... Dread Wolf thing.

Some kind of "god".

( Her eyebrows knit, distracted from her anger by confusion. )

The Dalish gods? I thought they were legends.

After all the shit we've seen... pretty sure nothing's just a legend.

[He wishes they were. He really, really wishes it was all just a legend. That all the crap in the sky and the Fade were nothing but legends.]

[It'd make a lot of this crap easier.]

( She snorts at that, unable to find fault with Bull's words. Her anger, she finds, is returning, and it can be heard in her voice. )

What would he hope to achieve by tearing a hole into the Fade itself?

( Then again, she muses, Solas had always had an unnatural affinity for the Fade.

It does explain some things.

Yet... )

I'm not sure. Cullen didn't say. Or I was too pissed off to hear him.

[He'll admit that part, freely. He had been beyond angry. Beyond rational. Beyond even training -- so he might not have heard as much as he'd needed to.]

Dorian and Cullen are from that time. They probably got all the details.

I will have to speak with them about it later. ( But for now, she needs time to process this all. She can barely resist the urge to place her head in her hands; her posture does, however, slump somewhat in her seat. )

Take your time. They're not going anywhere.

[Maybe. Hopefully. Who knows?]

[He sighs, slowly, and reach across the table to give her a light shove with his knuckles.]

I know it's a lot. You wanna hit me with a stick again? See if that helps?

( She looks slightly skeptical at first, but is pulled out of her thoughts when Bull nudges her. )

It is not a bad idea.

( That's a yes. )

[He just grins.]

Good. Maybe I'll actually feel it this time.

[The verbal jab is accompanied by another nudge. And a wink. No mean feat when you have only the one eye.]

( Cassandra scoffs, sitting up a little as she does so. )

I will try my best.

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rideme - 2016-11-26 01:30 (UTC) - Expand

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