faderift | Tell all the neighbors to start knocking down walls (Catchall)

She spreads her hands, as if inviting him to notice that she is neither evidently bleeding or coughing at the moment. "Hey, look, I made it all the way to Kirkwall and I didn't even get seasick," she says, lightly.

Field mission mishaps aside, she's a good patient generally. For one thing, se knows what could happen otherwise, and Herian is no longer here to heroically if embarrassingly drag her to healer.

"Looks like you got an upgrade in the move. You settling in okay?"

"Mmm." The noise is friendly enough, though his face is a little pale.

"I'm settling in better than anyone would have thought likely. How is that for an answer?" He gestures toward the cot; she knows the drill. "Though I have to say not getting seasick made the trip a little easier. Are you... Are you liking Kirkwall?"

It's not an easy city to like, even without his history here.

"So far so good, I guess. Definitely a change from Skyhold." To put it mildly. She obediently sits on the cot. "It's sort of nice to be back in a city, though. I'm more used to it than a fortress, even if it's a really different kind of city than home."

She's not sure whether she should press him or not; she doesn't want to seem like she isn't interested in his well-being, but on the other hand she doesn't want to overstep.

She settles on: "I guess I'm kind of just trying to make the best of everything, you know? Kirkwall or not, I can't go home so ... I'm doing what I can to help."

"And this city can use a lot of help." He can't go home either, though it's for far different reasons than her. Maybe one day they'll find a way for Rifters to return, at least.

"How different are the cities you're used to from this?" As he talks, he casts, searching for the usual issues Cosima deals with. They're there. They don't go away, which is a little frustrating. Granted, this isn't the first time he's dealt with chronic issues that can't be healed. Anders simply feels a little like he's failing when he can't fix things, only hold them at bay.

At least he can hold it at bay. He's not losing her anytime soon. That's a comfort.

She's always distracted when he's casting, interested and giving the air of someone who wants to be taking notes. She doesn't disturb the process, though, instead answering the question.

"They're way bigger, for one thing. Our technology level has sustained a higher birthrate, and it's been decades since we had a major land war or a really big disease outbreak we couldn't contain, so there's just ... a lot of people. Cleaner in some ways, dirtier in different ones; we mainly get around using machines, not horses or walking, so crossing a street is a lot more harrowing."

He frowns despite himself as he wraps up the casting. It's not her fault. He just wishes he really could make a difference here. But now he has the attention span to listen and nod along.

"I may know a thing or two about Harrowing," Anders says as a weak joke, realizing only moments later that she... probably wouldn't get it. Oh well. It wasn't really funny to start with.

"You've a lot of... doctors? then?" That has to be the word they use, with no magic.

He gets a flicker of a smile for the harrowing comment - not because she doesn't get it, exactly, because she's been told what the Harrowing is, but because she's not sure she's allowed to laugh at that joke as a non-mage.

Instead of lingering, though, she nods at his question. "Yeah. And nurses, and people who work on keeping people healthy in other ways too. Researchers, and people who make our equivalent of potions and poultices, and people who specialize in very specific kinds of medicine, either treating one area of the body or focusing on one type of disease. It's a business, which definitely has its major downsides, but it also means a lot of people who wouldn't do it out of altruism do it because it's well-rewarded."

"We've those who want to make a business out of it too, including those who haven't bothered with much learning." He sighs, stepping back to signal the end of the exam before taking a seat. "People who stick a little elfroot in water and tell people it will cure everything, or worse, try and fail to make a tincture with a deep mushroom and sentence their desperate patients to an agonizing death. But at least now that we're free we can hopefully change things around."

It depends so much on people accepting mages. He's not sure what they can make happen, quite frankly, but he's going to try.

"Sometimes I wonder if our world will ever get close to yours, or Hermione's, or Kirk's. If we'll have anything remotely close to the peace and hope it sounds like you've reached. I want us to. It's... going to be difficult, though, and take the cooperation of people who will lose what power they've sought their whole lives if they help."

And people are selfish.

"Oh my god, we've got some of that too. There's this thing back home where you're supposed to dilute a drop of something - usually but not always something that would make you sick - in a ton of water, then dilute a drop of that in a bunch more water, and keep doing it and somehow the like, ghost of the thing you're diluting will infuse the water somehow and cure you. Total bullshit, but a lot of people buy into it, especially for stuff there's not an effective cure for."

She stretches, as if settling back into her frame after the healing. It's not an unpleasant sensation, but it's still weird for her.

"Man, I don't even know if Hermione and I will make it to Kirk's. It sounds like they've sorted a lot of shit out. We don't have big land wars, true, but there's a lot of injustice. Lots of people still starve to death, or die of treatable diseases because they're poor. I mean, not to rain on your parade, but people suck back home too, especially in the aggregate."

His expression as she describes the dilution process is aghast. Her people have actual technology, actual doctors, and yet they turn to what's basically water? Granted, water is a good thing. There are many who don't get as much clean water as they should and suffer for it. But this is something else entirely.

"The poor suffer in so many worlds. I don't know that ours will even make it to where yours is. Kirk's level of prosperity and peace..." He sighs. "I wish I had hope. I wish I believed that we could come out of this war with Corypheus and grow from it. Instead, I find it more than likely that we'll defeat Corypheus only to have Tevinter and the Qunari invade from different angles, and a grand war where they meet while the Chantry rushes to enslave mages yet again so that it will have a powerbase to step on."

And then after that war, there will be another Blight, and more than likely Thedas will be wiped clean. Or there will be just enough remaining to start a new war or a new reason to subjugate some group and grind them into the ground until they rise up. Their world is not a good one.

"I wonder, sometimes, if there are worlds that already failed that will never be represented here. That fell apart as quite the opposite of Kirk's, or even yours, and never made it that far. Or if maybe they get their own visitors, their own Rifters, who can point out that there's other ways."

Cosima rubs the back of her neck, idle and thoughtful. "You're not wrong. But I also think ... I don't know. I think it still matters. Even if we knew, for sure, we could never reach universal peace, I think it's worth trying to get closer. Even here -- shit, we don't have to hit 'utopia' to manage 'better than the future I saw,' you know?"

She's not muted, exactly. Cosima's got a determination to her that's easy to miss, under the mellow friendliness. But it's a serious subject all the same.

"Where I come from, there's still a lot of prejudice and hatred. But we also had centuries of institutionalized, open slavery that has since been largely wiped out. I think that matters. I think even if we fail, it matters that we try."

Even if we fail, it matters that we try. It's a lot of what keeps him going, and he gives her a small smile.

"Failure is still terrifying. The thought of gaining all that we have when there's a chance we could go right back to how it was, that everything we do could be for nothing..." Anders exhales. "But that doesn't mean we should or even can stop. You're right. If a fear of losing everything holds us back, we lose anyway."

He takes another breath.

"And it's the future generations of mages and the future rifters that benefit from establishing things that protect them now, that promote freedom and equality, too." Groundwork is a valid, important cause.

"See? That's totally the spirit. That's why I'm a scientists and not a politician, anyway. I like concrete progress." Let's ignore all the mirky philosophical issues her very existence creates, although she supposes if anyone native to Thedas could sympathize, it would be a mage.

"Everyone deserves a high-five moment now and then. Wait," almost immediately, "has another rifter taught you about high-fives yet?"

Tell all the neighbors to start knocking down walls (Catchall)

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