OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (PART I)

[faderifting]

WHO: Time Travelers & Future Kirkwall Residents
WHAT: Time travel, captures, escapes, explosions.
WHEN: ALTERNATE FUTURE, Early Cloudreach 9:48
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES:.This is the first plot log for False Gods, Great Demons, specifically for the time travel team and adjacent plot efforts. An open post for general Darkest Timeline adventures will be posted separately! A plotting post specifically for the escape from Kirkwall can be found here.

It's been over a year since the village of Haven was burned, ransacked, and buried beneath snow and ice--a year for the snow to melt and leave behind blackened, rotting wood for a new year's snow to fall over. The stone walls and Chantry stand, but the rest of the village is a jagged scar, and the path up the mountain to the Temple of Sacred Ashes still shows signs of the battle against the Breach: toppled carts, abandoned crates, a broken bridge.

Given the debris, obstacles, and lingering demon-infested tears in the Veil, it takes the better part of a day for even a well-armed team of trained fighters to make the trek from Haven to the Temple. Despite that, there's been a steady stream of pilgrims to Andraste's final resting place--and now the site of the Herald's death. More still wait on the road and outside the entrance to the Temple ruins, guarded now by Inquisition soldiers until the recent deaths within the walls have been investigated.

Save the wind and quiet crunch of bones being gnawed on, the Temple itself is silent. The molten-ash corpses that were once outside the walls, contorted from their final moments of agony, have been removed and given rites--but the icy dust beneath the band's boots is still partly bone and burned flesh, and patches of red lyrium still resist efforts at removal.

The bone-crunching comes from down the main staircase and around a corner. Five corpses are slumped around a campfire, dressed for warmer weather, preserved by the cold somewhat but withered and too decayed to have died within the week, let alone overnight while no one else was looking--and with one arm currently being chewed on by a bear while two others amble nearby.

Stopping them from eating the evidence is a good idea, probably. And perhaps as the effort to chase them away from the carrion gets underway, in the midst of the chaos and roaring, someone will notice one of the bandits splayed out across the icy stone floor. She's as withered as the rest of them, save one outstretched arm that's still fleshy-plump and pink where it falls outside some invisible line.

But if anyone does notice, it's too late. There's a flare of light that shifts quickly from rift-green to a blinding white, a white-noise roar and a gust of windy force that propels everyone forward to--

Exactly where they were, except a few yards to the left, and in the last two seconds the few stubborn scraps of red lyrium on the Temple walls have crawled and expanded to form whole walls of crystal. For a moment it's silent again, save the wind. The one of the bears--the only one carried along with the group--lets out a bewildered, irritable roar. Beyond the walls there's a shout, then another, then too many for it to be only the handful of Inquisition soldiers posted outside the Temple.

Seconds later, they're surrounded.

Comments

[watchesandlistens]

Corvo doesn't move from his bunk, letting the chatter of the others pass over and around him. Others are already explaining to the newcomers, and Inessa has summarized Corvo neatly enough. None of this changes anything. So they didn't die. So they get to rot here with the rest of the dregs.

They'll wish they had died.

But the Outsider tries to goad him. Of course he does, that's what the Outsider does best. And to this, Corvo finally responds.

"Yes."

His voice cracks, hoarse from disuse. Yes, he's given up, yes, he's lying down, and yes, the Outsider should just let him rest, just like he's been doing for the last five years. Corvo will not be goaded.

Of course, he did managed to get Corvo to speak for the first time in...a very long time. It's something.

[not_the_question]

The Doctor had started to pace as he listened to the dialogue going on around him. None of the information was particularly useful. But he was trying his best to file it all away. Then Cosima's voice broke through as she called his name. Not as effective as Jamie's voice, but well, he wasn't here, but was that for the best?

He heard The Outsider's reply before he could get a word in. So he first spoke to the man. "Why do people always do that? Are you all simple? Mucking about time when you don't know the first thing about what you're doing."

He huffed and answered tried to answer properly. "Cosima, the future is no more malleable than the past."

He paused a small moment, and adjusted his tone. He spoke to everyone in the block.

"Now that we're here, we're a part of events. If we go back, and that's a pretty big if given the technology here, and we try to change things to prevent this future from happening, we might end up preventing the events that caused us to come here in the first place. That creates a paradox loop. Time, will try to heal the tear that paradox creates, which means all of our timelines will disintegrate."

He considered things for a moment. He had to squash this idea of changing time as quickly as possible.

"But if you all want to end up very dead very quickly, by all means, go ahead and try to change things."

[el_tybs]

The walls have ears.

So pretty much any information not already well known wasn't going to be spoken freely while they were in here. He could... appreciate the need to be tight-lipped on that, but at the same time, what had happened to everyone else?

"The Gallows?" Sam leans against the bars to try and peer out towards who had said that. "Exactly where are we?" The name sounds familiar, but then again five years have passed, 'the gallows' could be anywhere.

Another voice. Someone who kept calling themselves a doctor during their trip? "So you're saying we shouldn't try getting back to when we came from? Just accept that we skipped five years and let these events happen?"

[extramural]

There is something almost, almost like a snarl at Corvo's response. Another one of his favorites, turned into a kicked dog and unwilling to do a damn thing about it. He's about to start arguing when the Doctor speaks up, and then there's a dark laugh.

"I do know what I'm doing, as it turns out. That would be why. Maybe time in your world is a stagnant thing, but it is not that way in my own. The Fade and the Void of my world are similar, and therefore I suspect that the way time was altered where we were and where it occurred in my world are similar also."

He leans on the bars this time, staring down toward the Doctor's cell, though it's a bit hard to see past everyone else and the bear. His voice is deeper now, more urgent; others may be perfectly willing to let this happen, but he is not. He is invested, now, where once he never got involved.

Things change, and he needs people to listen.

"We don't need gears and machines to return. Magic brought us here and it will take us back. The time we came from will continue on as the primary one, and the Void, -- or it would be the Void in my world -- will know the secrets of what happened here, in this possible future, as it knows the secrets of all possible futures. As it shares them with me, in my own world."

His fingers flex again, antsy; he misses the feeling of magic, even misses the Void whispering in his ear, showing him those horrible glimpses as it did back home.

"Besides, didn't something similar involving time magic happen to the Inquisition before all of us started falling out of Rifts?"

[sulena]

"The Gallows is an isolated fortress in Kirkwall's harbor."

Saoirse has been quiet for some time now, simply listening and trying to wrap her head around the words that are being said among the group. The thought of time travel and everything associated with it has, honestly, gone over her head in more than one way. She had only just learned about how the rifts were bringing in people from strange, vastly different world that were in no way connected to there own.

"It was the home of the Templar Order in the city but it was also where the Circle of Magi stood." It is said tight-lipped, edging on something that might be sadness or even humoring anger which might even be strange considering her usual state of being.

"I came here after the Circle in Starkhaven burned down. It doesn't seem to have changed much, honestly. Even the cells are still as I remember them too."

[watchesandlistens]

Corvo still doesn't care, okay. Really!! Look at him not caring. Just laying in his bunk ignoring everyone. However, he does bother to raise his head at stare at the doctor with a sullen expression (though admittedly, that seems to be his default).

"If you call him simple one more time, I'm throwing my shoe at you."

Not that Corvo cares.

He settles back in his bunk, a grumbling rumble in his throat. He despises having to talk so much. Why can't everybody just settled in and wait for death.

[not_the_question]

The Doctor just ignores the Outsider. It wasn't worth getting into the finer details of how time travel works - and that it's not connected to 'magic' - and he assumes the other wouldn't understand anyway. Especially since the Doctor was fairly certain it was science that brought them to this time.

The Doctor does look over at Corvo. "If you can throw it so it passes through the bars, then that skill might be put to better use, don't you think?"

It wasn't a challenge so much as an observation. They all had different talents. Maybe they could use them to get out. Question was, how to coordinate it so that the guards didn't know.

[limier]

Wren shoots a glare over her shoulder towards the tiff. It’d surely be withering if it weren’t utterly lost in the dim. And perhaps if it weren't made by someone who looks like they’ve recently gone waltzing with a bronto.

She raises her voice slightly, pitched just high enough to carry down the hall. The words are tense.

"If you throw something, or begin a shouting match," Raven. "We will surely speak to the guards sooner rather than later."

She trusts she needn’t spell out the consequences, with so many examples in view. Wren turns back to Inessa, tries to disguise the fidgeting way her hand keeps creeping back to her ears.

"The converts." Traitors, she thinks and won’t say. There may yet be affection — however misplaced — for such creatures. "Do any linger?"

Contacts could be valuable. No loyalty is ever absolute.

[youwonscience]

Cosima's expression is pressed thin, at both the responses and the spat. If they're this inclined to argue, she doesn't have high hopes for a coordinated escape attempt. At least one other person seems to appreciate that loudly arguing isn't incredibly helpful.

(Then again, it's hardly the first time in her experience that male egos have created unnecessary problems.)

Instead of engaging, she thinks through the implications. The Outsider and the Doctor could both, theoretically, be right; if the multi-universe theory was true, there was the possibility of both paradox inside a given universe and crossing between them. If they can't get home, of course, it's moot - but if they can, it is worth gathering whatever information possible on the off-chance they can prevent all this.

And she is definitely not thinking about the ever-more-likely possibility that someone was going to reintroduce her to lyrium in an even worse way than her previous encounter. "Fear is the mind-killer," she mutters under her breath, and it's half a joke, half an attempt to distract herself.

[circleprodigy]

Ignoring the debate as her head is starting to swim, Inessa sags against the bars and tries to keep what focus remains to her. Given how she keeps flexing her red-veined hand, though, the lyrium within isn't making it easy for her.

"Some do. An elven woman and a Red Templar...I don't know them well, nor do I wish to." Why speak with traitors, after all? Ciri aside, who isn't really a traitor but she's not about to verbally blow her cover. Those who have been in the cells for longer would have seen her visiting Inessa, though.

[serannas]

"Don't bother," Ellana says, addressing Wren and guessing why she wants to know about the converts. "One is a coward who will turn allegiances in the blink of an eye, but always puts her own interests first. You can never trust her, no matter what sad, tearful story she gives you. And the Red Templar is her crazed attack dog. Believe me, I would have killed her already if she wasn't hiding behind him."

Her eye drifts to Sam yet again as she thinks of Cyril's scarred face, thanks to Cade. There's no value in telling him or the rest that the people she's talking of are Beleth and Cade. The two are as good as strangers to them all.

"You're not going back," she adds simply. "You're stuck in this world like the rest of us. And even if you could go back and change things, that means nothing. We've already lived through it all. Don't act like it can be brushed under a rug like it never happened."

[sulena]

"We have not been a part of this dark present long but I very much doubt that any of us could possibly forget it," she begins quietly. "But I cannot accept the idea that we are stuck in a world we had no place in to begin with."

As she speaks there is confidence reborn in her voice, burying away the worry and fear that had been pronounced since awakening within one of the cells she remembers so vividly. She will leave this place, Saoirse is confident in that much. Andraste would guide her as she always had in her times of need.

"Far am bi toil, bidh gnìomh. Within the Temple of Sacred Ashes was the key that unlocked this possibility and brought us here. We must return to Haven."

[el_tybs]

"Kirkwall?" They were all the way in Kirkwall? The Free Marches? He had been out of it longer then he thought. It was also concerning that they had been moved such a distance from where they first came into this time - he's still getting used to that whole thing.

His attention is yet again brought back to Ellana when she speaks up, frowning slightly at her words. It wasn't only her appearance that had changed, which he was trying not to let show was bothering him, simply because for him, he had seen her less then a week ago uninjured and not so angry with the world.

"Saoirse is right, I doubt we'll be forgetting about this. And if we do get back to our proper time, doing nothing would be us pretending it never happened. We'd have to do something."

[bookish_lioness]

Hermione tries to follow the conversation, really, she does. But all of this bickering and the overwhelming sense of despair makes her groan softly, and she ends up resting her forehead against the bars as she tries to rein in both her temper and growing sense of panic.

It isn't until Saoirse speaks from the cell besides her that Hermione can take a deep breath, looking over at the elf and trying to pretend that the rest of the cells are occupied by creatures of logic. It works, for the most part.

"We're not stuck here," she affirms. "There's precious little that can be done that can't be undone. Not even death is always permanent." At that, she looks around at those that had apparently lived out five years in this horrid place. "Though I suppose the lot of us showing up here more or less proves that."

Straightening up a bit, she takes another breath; it helps her feel as though she has a bit more of a handle on things, even if that's not actually true. "We can worry about what to do when we get back to our proper time once we're actually there. Our most immediate concern is getting our bearings straight and finding a way to safety. All of us."

Looking to Saoirse again, she adds in a lower, almost coaxing voice, "You said you knew this place. That's a start. Having someone about with at least a vague understanding of the layout can only help."

[sulena]

Trying her legs again, Saoirse pulls herself off the ground and shakes her head to try getting rid of the haze caused by the magebane still coursing through her system. There is still a terrible sensation itching in the back of her mind, reminding her more and more of her former time within the dark cells of the Gallows.

Taking a needed breath, she tightens her hold on the cell doors and nods to Hermione with a determined look. Her voice, when she speaks, is also very determined now as she gathers herself together.

"I am not sure how much things have changed in these years since I lived in these walls but in my time here, I became very familiar with the inner workings of this terrible place. I will do my best to lead all of you from this place."

[circleprodigy]

"'Safety'." Inessa snorts softly, skeptical of such notions to say the least. "There is no such thing in Thedas, not anymore. It's not a matter of just leaving the Gallows. Denerim and Orzammar hang by a thread; they will fall, in due time. You will be as endangered outside these bars as within."

She glances downward, at the red haze she's emitting, at the red, pulsing veins in her hands. Freedom would change nothing, not for her and Malcolm and Ciri. They were still damned, regardless.

[bookish_lioness]

"Well, I happen to respectfully disagree!" Hermione retorts sharply, peering down the rows of cells towards Inessa. She can't see her clearly, and perhaps that's for the best, given all she's heard. She doesn't want to see Inessa that way. And she refuses to accept a world where Inessa will get to be that way, never mind any of the other good people she's come to know.

"Within these bars, we're doing little else but waiting for death, not just for us but for everyone still suffering." Like Inessa. And Ellana. And the others that she doesn't know, but knows they more than likely don't deserve any of this. "Outside, we at least have a fighting chance. If you don't want to fight for yourself, that's your prerogative. But don't for a moment assume that the rest of us are just going to sit around and stare at one another as we wait for death - or worse - to take us."

[serannas]

"Don't for a second assume you know what I want, you stupid girl," Ellana hisses at her. There is only so much whining she can take here. "Unlike you lot, I'm not stupid enough to start discussing escape plans in front of four guards." She already warned them to watch what they say, but they've been arguing over time travel and going back to "fix" things and the guards are probably filing it all away to tell their superiors later. She's sure the Venatori would love to experiment on people who claim they've time traveled.

But what really sets her off is the assumption she's going to sit here and do nothing. As if she hasn't been planning her escape. As if she hasn't been memorizing guard rotations, listening for scraps of news, looking for any tiny chink in the wall she could shapeshift through whenever she's taken out for an interrogation session. She hasn't found a foolproof escape route yet, but she'll keep looking. While not loudly discussing her plans, thank you very much.

[not_the_question]

The Doctor had grown quiet and thoughtful again. He was about to speak when Hermione spoke up again. He smiled at her reply this time. While he disagreed with her assessment about time, he couldn't fault her too much for it. She wasn't a Time Lord, after all.

After Eilana spoke, though. He knew he had to stop this and quickly. He suddenly and purposefully clapped his hands loudly and five or six times. Once he felt like he had everyone's attention, he kept his voice loud enough so everyone could hear, but quiet enough so that he wasn't shouting.

"None of this is going to get us anywhere. They're not idiots here. The guards are stationed there because they know we'll try to escape. And no one has mentioned any ideas about escape yet, though knowing this group, we're all formulating our own plans."

Any issues around time he could address and clearly explain later. Escape had to be their priority. He just had to figure out if he should cause a distraction or if he should allow himself to be taken away.

"Miss Granger is right. And living up to her name-sake, I might add. Death isn't the worst thing that can happen to a person. As I think those who are suffering from the red lyrium effects can tell us."

He could tell his own stories, but he doubted any of them would believe that he had died hundreds of billions of times.

"We have one chance in a thousand of making something work. But one is all you ever need."

He stopped there. He thought about talking about his 'rules for torture and dying', but he really didn't want the guards to hear them and figure out his own plans for escape.

[limier]

Fantastic. Now he’s clapping. The man reads like a book on arrogance.

Wren’s eyes press shut, teeth grit. She’s grateful for her position in the block. If surveying their companions has grown difficult, at least it ensures that no one else is seeing her lose composure. What was that Cosima said? About fear killing the mind?

Saoirse hasn't allowed that. A pang of pity for her, but too, admiration. However dear the cost of that knowledge, they can use it. She just hopes the girl hasn't singled herself out too obviously to their Venatori friends. Hermione seems to have questioning her in hand.

A coward who will turn allegiances in the blink of an eye, but always puts her own interests first. A biased assessment, she’s certain, but likely truthful enough. The templar will be a lost cause, but a coward can be turned. A selfish coward, all the better. They’re in too weak a position to threaten her directly. Threatening the stability of her position? It's a chance.

A pity that Inessa knows less of her than Ellana. The woman bristles at every breath. After a month of Tevinter hospitality, Wren can hardly blame her.

"Thank you," To the both of them. She lays her hand flat, forces it forward to rest on the ground just between the bars of her shared wall. A small gesture, but there's little more to be done. For the time being, she’s done with this conversation. "For hanging on."

And then she returns to pacing, a silent, surly presence in the dark.

[circleprodigy]

The Doctor's bid for their attention has Inessa frowning but listening quietly, rubbing her hands in a futile bid to make those pulsing veins pain her a little less. The red is eating away at her, every moment, and she knows it's to blame for the mood swings...not that the knowledge helps. For a moment, she sharply envies them all their health and outlook. It's been so long since she'd had an abundance of either one.

"As long as you are aware of such slim odds. That was the only point I wished to make.

And he's not wrong, Hermione; there are things far worse than death. If you can't see it in me or Malcolm, you can hear it in our voices. My life means nothing anymore, and I won't pretend it does." Maybe that can be of some help to them, but she's not about to say how, not with guards to overhear. Ciri will come through, though, she knows it. "Don't hate us for lacking hope for ourselves, not after having lived the past five years in this world."

She closes her eyes, sinking against the wall of her cell, still close enough to the bars to hear the others but needing a moment to recuperate. Even being relatively clear-headed is exertion in and of itself.

[sulena]

"We are prisoners. We might think little of them but they are not stupid despite the questionable morals." It is said lightly, fingering tightening. "They are watching us as closely as we are watching them, testing and making sure they leave no holes. It's rather like being back in the Circle."

A huff as she leans forward, eyeing the guards carefully with a frown.

"And let them listen if it gives them some sense of peace or superiority," she murmurs. "But know that I do not hate you, Warden. I cannot even imagine what living these years have been but know that I will carry hope for you."

[doneisdone]

Though Teren has stopped fiddling with the lock, she hasn't engaged in the rest of the conversation, which is flying around her like many different balls all in the air, growing increasingly angry. She's just listening, in her unobtrusive way. Blending in, mulling things over, calculating.

She will get out, and she will return to... whatever they're returning to, whatever will free them from this wrongness. And she'll take anyone with her that she can. And she will do what she takes, and use what tools are necessary. Including people.

She finds herself watching Inessa, perhaps just because the elf is across from her, but despite her fixed gaze Teren's mind is somewhere else. This will not stand, she will not settle for this.

[not_the_question]

As Russo entered, the Doctor went silent and still. He suddenly hoped he wasn't the one taken. If only because he didn't feel like he knew enough to be of help if interrogated.

He watched with sadness as Teren and Saoirse were taken away.

"I suggest we all be very, very careful."

He can't really offer anything else at this point.