faderift | OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (OPEN LOG 1)

OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (OPEN LOG 1)

WHO: Living Residents of the Horrible Future
WHAT: Ah ha ha ha stayin' alive, stayin' alive.
WHEN: ALTERNATE FUTURE, 1-15 Cloudreach 9:48
WHERE: Anywhere, but especially Orzammar
NOTES: This is the first open log for False Gods, Great Demons. Anything that happened prior to Cloudreach 9:48 should go on the flashback meme. Most members of the TTT and their friends in Kirkwall will be arriving in Orzammar on approximately Cloudreach 7. In the meantime, feel free to make your own adventures. If you want to blow up an bridge, assassinate an NPC of your own invention, steal supplies, or anything else--it's all yours, go for it!

SOUTHERN THEDAS is a wasteland. The Blight crawling across the Orleian countryside and into Ferelden leaves nothing alive in its wake, scarring the land like an insatiable fire until no birds sing and the only things that grows is the Red Lyrium that speckles cliff sides and crawls up dying trees until they look like rows of jagged bloody teeth. And where it's still green, where people can still survive, the atmosphere is nearly as stifling. Every city and settlement is watched over by a Venatori or trustworthy collaborator. Those who don't keep their heads down and their dissent a whisper may vanish without warning. They may take their whole families with them. There are flashes of hope--an assassinated lordling here, a village rousing itself to brief and doomed rebellion there--but for every man the Imperium loses, they seem to find two to take his place.

NORTHERN THEDAS is at war. The worst of it doesn't reach west into Tevinter or the Anderfels; the line between the Qunari and the Imperium is drawn straight through Antiva, with Nevarra and Rivain on either side quiet and calm as only lands under martial law can be. The Free Marches vary between complacency and rebellion, but the rebellious ones risk ruin--there are murmurs it won't be long before a whole city is made an example. A steady stream of desperate refugees is fleeing north to the Qun, but plenty are picked off and punished as traitors before they can cross into Qunari-controlled territory. Your best best for a clean escape are the pirates who still hold Llomerynn free from both sides of the conflict.

ORZAMMAR is the only kingdom in Thedas that looks much the same--and Kal-Sharok, but they're not accepting outsiders. The heavy doors at Orzammar's entrance are sealed and guarded, as much against the steady flow of refugees asking for help as against the Venatori. The refugees are turned away. There's no way to know who can be trusted, and even if there were, there's not food enough for people who can't fight. Orzammar Thaig is still the dwarves' home--though with stealing shrinking numbers and poor prospects, King Bhelen has been amenable to allowing casteless surfacers some leeway--but the once-abandoned Ortan Thaig is the Inquisition's. Quietly. The only things stopping a full assault on Orzammar is the Venatori's need for dwarf-mined lyrium and the plausible deniability that the Inquisition's remaining rebel bands are using the Deep Roads with Bhelen's consent.

An hour's walk through caves and deepstalker swarms, Ortan is a city in its own right. A crammed city, one where cots and bunk beds crammed into shared housing are the norm no matter how important someone is and you occasionally have to protect your dinner from a restless, swooping griffon, but one where you can still find a pint of ale or a game of cards if you've time to waste on them. It's just that not many people do. There's the watch to keep; the tunnels that creep further into the deep teem with darkspawn who are held back at barricades, while the hidden, narrow tunnels that lead to the surface are watched at all hours so anyone coming or going can be identified. There are weapons to forge and sharpen. Plans to make. Bands to lead. Maybe you weren't a leader five years ago, but these days, there aren't that many people with more than five years' experience still alive to give orders. Fewer every week.

And so we burned. We raised nations, we waged wars,
We dreamed up false gods, great demons
Who could cross the Veil into the waking world,
Turned our devotion upon them, and forgot you.
Threnodies 1:8

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Of course Hermione was wrapped up in emotions. How could she not be? She was beginning to wonder if all men were as lacking in empathy as she'd been led to believe teenage boys were, if the Doctor was really going to stand there and claim that he wasn't impacted by emotions.

"Maybe we did die," she told him, shrugging a shoulder. "People go missing in Thedas all the time, and no one ever knows what really happened to them. Maybe we found our way back, but for whatever reason, we didn't make it back to Skyhold. Things had changed quickly after our disappearance, after all. Maybe some of us had survived and had gone into hiding, using knowledge of the future to keep safe until such a time comes when it's best to strike. Why else would someone have given Saoirse a key to help us escape?"

Sighing, she looked down at the handkerchief she was still extending towards him. "If we're never 'meant' to find a way back, then we won't. It should be that simple, shouldn't it? And if a way out does present itself, it would be just as irresponsible to ignore it as it would be to run straight towards it. Because I'm sorry, Doctor, you may be very clever, and you may see things in a way I never will, but no one is omniscient. Even you can't say for certain whether your choices will ultimately save the maximum amount of lives. There will always be extenuating factors."

Well at least he didn't tell her about prioritising lives to stay alive... His features softened as she started to think properly.

"Finally. You're thinking logically. Good. I never said I was omniscient. I'm far from it. There are always situations that have grey areas. So long as you don't go rushing head-first into something just because your emotions are getting the better of you, then we're actually in agreement about things."

He walks back closer to her and leans in, as if imparting a great secret. "There are eleven of you that want to go rushing back into changing things. And many more here that will probably ask that of us. I have to be firm in my dissent because I'm the only one voicing it right now. But I'll make the same promise to you that I made to Jamie: If there is anything I can do without making things worse - whether it's changing things now or changing things if we go back, I will do that."

He just didn't want people to think if they snapped their fingers everything would be how they want it to turn out. Because it never happened like that.

It said quite a bit that he considered her to "finally" be thinking logically when she'd introduced the rather dire possibility of them returning to their proper time and promptly facing a slaughter. But if he really couldn't believe in the idea of alternate timelines, then she supposed it was the most sensible sort of loop that would allow for their eventual return. Fantastic. Now she couldn't even look forward to heading back.

And yet, the Doctor still seemed to confide that he would make changes if he could, even if he'd just claimed that things shouldn't be changed at all.

"That's just the point," she told him, voice softening just a touch. "You can't know what would or wouldn't make things worse. You can make assumptions based on a logical trail of causality, but that's about the best any of us can do with the information we currently have. I understand and respect that. I never meant that we should go back in time and start shouting about false prophets and secret attacks and all that sort of thing; that could just be what gives the Venatori and our other enemies ideas. I just don't want to think that anyone can see what had become of everyone and not feel compelled to at least try and change things for the better."

"That's where you're wrong. I can know exactly that. It's a gift of being a Time Lord."

Or a curse, depends on your point of view. He taps his head.

"I can see time lines. How they line up, where they lead. Everything at was, and is, can be, and must not be."

He shrugs. Because she doesn't care about that. No one ever cares about that.

"Just. Don't vote with your emotions. It's not worth it."

Honestly, the Doctor can be infuriating sometimes.

"Time lines don't always go where they're supposed to go. That's where randomness comes in. If you're telling me that you can account for the random with absolute certainty rather than from a theoretical viewpoint, then it sounds as though you expect me to believe in Divination. If you're going to be skeptical about the fact that I can do magic, you're going to have to excuse me if I'm a little skeptical about the fact that you're claiming to be an oracle."

Glancing down, Hermione's silent for a moment before bringing up, "Don't ignore your emotions. That isn't worth it, either. Sometimes emotional intelligence can be just as valuable as logical intelligence, if not more so."

"Hermione. Do me a favour and remember for one instant that I am not human. You're thinking like humans do and that's fine. Expected even. But do not put your human limitations on me."

Because now she's just being insulting. He understands. But he doesn't like it. Not at all. But hey, at least she's not crying any more?

Confused, Hermione asks, "What do you mean? That your people are adept at something akin to Divination? Or are you trying to say I'm overrating the value of emotional intelligence?"

Because either way, he's wrong, and convincing her otherwise will be next to impossible.

He shakes his head.

"It's not divination. It's like... When you read a history book and there's a time line printed there. Or maybe a decision tree. And you can, by looking at that, see and understand in a quick way, everything about a given event. I can do that with the whole of time and space. It's what allows me to be able to travel in time. I know when I can do things and I know when I can't."

He shrugs.

"That's not to say I don't have grey areas. I do. It's like fog. But I have billions of years of experience to back me up. So even then, I can make sound decisions about what should and shouldn't be changed. Humans have five basic senses. Time Lords have additional senses: our Time Sense and telepathy. Except for us, those are our bases senses. If you take those away or somehow inhibit them, all of our other senses start to falter."

His explanation still doesn't satisfy Hermione, and while she tries not to look at him incredulously, a little bit of that doubt is still there in her eyes.

"It sounds like you're telling me you have a keen sense of cause and effect, and while I'm not saying that that isn't useful, it still doesn't account for the random. There will always be individual people who will act against their usual nature or who are unpredictable in general, or even things beyond our control - like weather or accidents - that will take us by surprise. With the possibility of any number of unforeseen factors, this sense of yours can't be one hundred percent accurate. Not that I wouldn't gladly accept your insight when it comes to time travel, but that's why you'll have to understand why, even with your assertion that changing the past will destroy everything, I'll still hold out hope that there's something you haven't yet picked up on that can make all of this end that much more happily, rather than resign ourselves to this."

Of course it doesn't. He doubts anything he could say or do would satisfy her on this issue.

"You are still thinking like a human. I see timelines change and shift as decisions are made. Contrary to what you all may believe, there are actually very few things that are actually unforeseen. Which is why I said there are 'grey areas'. But those are rare and usually when decisions haven't been made yet. But immediately when the decision is made, the timeline snaps into place and I can see everything again."

He huffs and makes to move again.

"Look, you're upset and you want everything to go your way. You think just because we've time travelled that we can fix all of this. Maybe we can. But have you considered that by 'fixing' this there are a host of things that we might be making worse? So some people who are dead now might be alive. But there are some people who are alive now who might die. Do you really want to be the one to carry the weight of that knowledge? Because I have done that. And it's not as good or fun as it sounds."

He shakes his head more at his stupidity for trying to explain things to a human again - he'll never learn. Then he sighs heavily and finally turns to walk away.

He's not walking fast though, and if Hermione has more to say, she can easily catch up - or scream at him and he'll hear her.

With an exasperated sigh, Hermione tells him, "I can't exactly help thinking like a human, you know! It's served me quite well for 20 years, and while that might not seem like a lot for you, it's served humanity well enough as a whole."

Though really, humans probably aren't the best examples of clear thinking. Goblins are probably a bit more logical, if more self-serving. And in Thedas it seems as though humans aren't exactly the wisest creatures on the face of the planet, either.

Still, it annoys her that he opts to walk away from her when she's trying to see things his way. If he's going to be stubborn and disagree with her, then she should at the very least be allowed to disagree with him without him stalking off like that.

"We don't do things because they're good or fun, Doctor," she calls out after him. "We do things because they're right."

If he still thinks that means leaving things be and accepting this as his future, that's fine. Hermione's too clever to believe in anything as tenuous as fate putting a supposed Time Lord in their laps for any actual reason.

The Doctor scoffs.

"Served you as a whole? If that were true, you wouldn't need the likes of me."

Sorry, but that was just insulting to him. Because there are reasons he calls humans 'pudding-brains'. But at her last comment he turns around while rubbing his lip.

"Believe me, I know that. Better than most. But you can't cheat time. I've tried often enough to know. You can't just go back and cut off tragedy at the root. We don't have the right to change how people live or die like that. We don't have that right."

She's almost angry enough to proclaim that they don't need him, but she's still feeling a little too broken from everything that's happened to be properly scathing. It's probably for the best.

"We also don't have the right to let people suffer," she brings up, swallowing back the anger and settling on the pain she's felt at seeing her friends like this, half of them turning away from her and the other half relating painful stories of their experiences. "We can try to make things better for them by going back and letting them make their own choices about how to help themselves. That's the best anyone can do: educate people and let them make their own informed decisions."

The Doctor pulls a hand down his face. It takes him a moment to consider what to say to that. Once he's collected himself he steps closer to her again.

"You think I don't care. That's fine. I used to joke that I had carers so I wouldn't have to. But, you don't know me well yet. You talk about choices. But sometimes the only choices we have are bad ones. When that's all there is, no one can possibly choose correctly. There's only choosing in the least bad way possible. You are thinking of those you know. Of people at Skyhold. I'm thinking of this entire universe. Our different perceptions will mean that we will make different choices."

And he looks at her for a long moment and hopes she can understand at least that much. If not, well... maybe she may as well tell him he's not needed. Everyone else pretty much has.

"I know that," she tells him simply, though sounding no less exhausted for it. "You seem to think that because I'm exhibiting an outwardly emotional response, that I don't understand your point of view. Jamie's told me about meddling with time. I know myself what can happen if one were to destroy the past. But this future? This world where people are simply standing by waiting to die? I'm not the only one who thinks we should go back and at least try to change it. I also know it's not the universal opinion, but given everything? It seems the kinder option."

Shaking her head, she looks at him sadly, knowing they've reached an impasse. But at least that's better than bickering. "I may disagree with your position, Doctor, but I can understand it. It might put us at odds with one another, but it wouldn't exactly make us enemies. It shouldn't, at least."

"We're not enemies. I haven't decided if anyone in this place is an enemy or not. Everyone is doing what they can to survive and that usually puts people at odds with one another. And then they have different ideas about who and what they call 'enemies' or 'monsters'."

Just because some people call others demons, doesn't mean the Doctor will. He hasn't seen enough to make that judgement call. 'Results' don't always point to what a cause might be.

"You say changing things is kinder. It's only kinder if it doesn't result in something worse. Are you willing to accept responsibility if things end up worse than this?"

Because the Doctor isn't. Not now.

She can't help bristling despite herself when he mentions that he hasn't decided if anyone here is an enemy, since she automatically lumps herself in with that as well. But she's too tired, too worn down to try to argue anything anymore, especially with someone as stubborn as the Doctor.

"What I can't accept is the responsibility to stand by and do nothing, as though I have to resign myself from having lost out not just on the year I've spent in Thedas instead of my home, but on the five years that shot by without me. I could have done something worthwhile during that time, but there's a chance I can do so now instead. If there's a chance I can make things better, then I'll do so." She hates that she finds herself saying this, but she noticeably swallows back the distaste in her words and mentions, "It's a matter of fighting for the greater good. Even if it doesn't look very good at all."

He had spoken more generally than she had interpreted. Not that it mattered. He listened as she said her peace, but decided this had gone about as far as it could.

"I'm glad you have such a clear idea of what definitely will and won't be better."

Hadn't she accused him of not being clairvoyant enough just a few minutes ago? Pot, meet Kettle.

"Billions of years of time and space travel and you know what I learned: Neither the past nor the future is promised to anyone. All we have is this moment right now. If you want to focus on fighting for the greater good, think about what you can do right here and right now."

Because they might not make it back. He just stares at her for a long moment, hoping she'll understand. Not really expecting her to. She's one to talk when it comes to stubbornness.

"I'm sorry you see me as a terrible person."

With that he shoves his hands in his pockets and this time, he does walk away.

She wants to tell him that he's acting more childish than anyone she's ever met.

She wants to tell him that he's being perfectly obtuse, not realizing that she's willing to compromise her idea of what the "greater good" might be if there's no safe way of going back.

More than anything, she wants to tell him that he's childish and obtuse and acting like a stubborn, petulant ninny, but he's not being a terrible person. And if he is, she doesn't see him as such.

But he walks away from her, and it's probably for the best, really. All they're doing is talking in circular arguments, and it's not doing anything to make Hermione feel better. But then, she doubts that he really cares all that much about that, so she tries to push him out of her mind for now, finding another fresh store of tears having built up in the space of this entire conversation.

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OPEN ↠ FALSE GODS, GREAT DEMONS (OPEN LOG 1)

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