( closed )

[technologist]

WHO: Daisy, Fitz
WHAT: Thedas 101
WHEN: Backdated to late Justinian
WHERE: Library + around the Gallows
NOTES: n/a

Fitz says thirty minutes and he's kind of close. The streets are quiet. So are the docks, and the ferry's obnoxiously slow — slower than usual. He reaches the library somewhere around the forty-five minute mark with the distinct look of someone who's been rushing without outright running, giving the tables and stacks near the front a quick once-over.

He spots her a few shelves back. Browsing or keeping busy while she waits, probably, but he doesn't take the time to clock whether she's currently got her hands full of books before he's stepping forward with a quick, "Daisy."

If the sweep of relief in his voice is anything to go by, the sight of her beats a detached voice over crystal. And they've done this too many times to count, this exact kind of relief and the reunions and the hugs that go with it — him one more than her, apparently, post-space — but it's already been another five months since on his end, so it's novel all over again.

Other things that are novel: he's a bit rough around the edges, hair dangerously close to too scruffy. Business casual's been traded in for local camouflage, all off white and dark fabrics and practical leather that's not far off from his Marauder get-up.

Comments

here i am, a month later, ready to rp

[hacker]

"They grabbed me in some forest." She hadn't had the time to dig through the maps for the particulars. Or rather, she had, but without the chance to actually navigate, she's not really sure what's where and the names are slipping. She could point to it, maybe. But summon the name? It seems unimportant.

"Like a week ago. I've been here ever since. They keep saying I'm 'dangerous.' Like I'm going to give polio to all of Orlais or something." She waves it off, then pauses. "Orlais is ... a country, right?" She's trying, here.

that's my shtick don't steal it

[technologist]

"That... yes." No judgment, just wheels spinning. Fitz gives her shoulder another pat and turns away to scan some nearby shelves, honing in on the first tome in a sprawling, matched set and pulling it down. "Suppose there's no point in asking which forest."

The book makes a loud thud as he deposits it on a nearby desk and starts to flip through it, quickly paging to the back before glancing up — past Daisy, making sure nobody else is around — and nonchalantly tearing out a page.

"They don't know what we're capable of when we first arrive," he says over the sound of the book thumping closed, then he offers her the page: a map of Thedas. Sorry, library. "But they can't keep us holed up here forever, so— quarantine. I think it's just as much about making sure we'll behave ourselves as it is about polio."

TOO LATE

[hacker]

"And they need to know what we're capable of because they need soldiers for their war." Daisy settles on the edge of the table, taking the torn page. She's glanced over other iterations, but none with any real success. This one, she'll pocket when they're done. But her cynicism comes first. She levels her gaze on Fitz's. "I haven't given them much."

She couldn't be sure how far to trust them, but she'd kept her mouth shut well enough to seem harmless. That was the best way to get allowed into the nooks and crannies where she could get real information.

[technologist]

Going by the knowing look Fitz gives her, that's what he was planning on asking next: if they know what she's capable of. He's quiet for a moment, thinking it over; he taps the book, fidgeting, then stops himself by laying his hand flat against the cover.

"I think we can trust them." It's said carefully, like he's still getting used to the idea after a handful of months. "Or— I don't think it'll make a difference, really, because they've already got us lumped in with mages. You'll just be living up to expectations."

[hacker]

"Living up to expectations can look like a lot of things," Daisy points out. No one seems to be listening to them at the moment, but she doesn't entirely take that for granted. This is a library, after all. For all that you could hear a pin drop, it was full of shadowy corners.

"You mean people who come through rifts without powers are the same as mages to them, too?" People like him, but she doesn't point that out. He's the majority. That comes with the privilege of not requiring explicit identification. "What does 'like mages' mean exactly? 'Cause so far it's looked like being locked up with no expiration date and a shitty reason." They'd made her feel dirty. She doesn't like that. Watch Dogs would probably suggest that Inhumans needed to be quarantined from the rest of the population, too. "That doesn't exactly scream trust."

[technologist]

He's got plenty of knee-jerk responses lined up. Quarantine should be straightforward — just a precaution, standard procedure, nothing worse than anyone would do when they're dealing with unknown elements. Except she's heard all that before, and what hadn't been outright lies had still been callous. He takes another moment, but he can't really find a way around it; striking a balance of grim sympathy is the best he can do.

"Yes. And about like that, actually. They treat mages like bombs waiting to go off. But they used to think we were demons, so—"

A vague hand gesture that translates his uncertainty on that one: it's an improvement. Still sucks.

"Riftwatch is the reason they're viewing us as people, at least. And they've had incidents with Rifters in the past, so I can't knock them taking basic precautions."

[hacker]

"I'll knock them enough for both of us."

He doesn't have the same lab specimen creepy-crawlies that she does around all of this. Daisy has to remind herself of this, but Fitz's willingness to concede to their methods only summons the specter of The Doctor into the space between them.

That's ungenerous. She shakes her head to dispel it. This isn't Riftwatch's fault, or any of Thedas's fault. It's her own background. Trying to quarantine unknown threats is reasonable. SHIELD would probably do the same thing.

The difference is that SHIELD would have her there to look out for the people quarantined.

"Are there any Rifters among those in charge of Riftwatch?"

[technologist]

The first comment gets a very mild begging look, because he gets it but also he'd rather not deal with Daisy vs. All of Thedas if it can be helped.

It's easy to track the line of thinking behind that question. It's also a welcome distraction. Fitz straightens up, expression lifting. Another vague gesture with his hand, this time all enthusiasm (if admittedly still aimless):

"Yeah. Tony bloody Stark." Said Tony _ Bloody _ Stark, each with emphasis. "He's heading up one of the research departments."

[hacker]

The cool affect she'd maintained throughout the conversation dissolves in an instant. With light behind her eyes, she straightens away from the table.

"Tony Stark is here?" The words spill out in a rush. For a moment, she is the twenty-something crowded outside Stark Tower in red-and-gold gogo boots. But that was a decade ago, and there's a reason they say never meet your heroes, and they call it the Accords.

The impulse quashed, she clears her throat and makes a poor attempt at pretending that had never slipped out. She smooths her hand not at all coolly down the front of her shirt to straighten it and lifts her chin. "I mean, that's ... That's whatever. Fine, I guess."

[technologist]

Oh, right. Fitz seems to be having the same journey on a much smaller scale, second-hand. He'd hated the Accords. They'd nearly destroyed his family, which wasn't exactly a forgive and forget situation — but they hadn't tried to strip away his basic rights, either.

"Yeah," he says, after a long and awkward pause. He seems genuinely stuck on what to say next. Then it occurs to him that everything he could say hinges on one very important fact, so:

"He's from 2013."

[hacker]

"2013."

She repeats it like he might correct her. He misspoke, obviously, and — But it doesn't happen. The year just lies on the table between them like a dead fish. It was the year they'd met. The year that she'd joined SHIELD, just before HYDRA emerged from SHIELD and separated itself like a conjoined evil twin.

He didn't even know about HYDRA. Daisy rubs her hands over her face. Breathes.

"So he's a time bomb." Not yet the guy who would introduce the Accords and change the life of anyone with any kind of superpower around the world, but a seed of him. He hadn't just woken up that guy one day. It'd been in there. Just like Ward had been in there.

She regards Fitz. Just like The Doctor had been in there. She drops her gaze quickly and cuts a single shake of her head to the side. If he thinks she's acting weird, it'll be worse. But Fitz is a time bomb too.

[technologist]

He's a time bomb. Fitz freezes for a second, caught in the headlights; the repetitive ticking of hard soles on concrete. Genius is just a tick away from madness.

He'd had the same thought. With a rush of shame and anxiety, first, and then with frantic scrabbling at equations and theories to keep them at bay. The edge had worn off with time. Each month past without any real problems was another excuse not to worry about it, but—

She's right. There's a dull spike of that old anxiety in the glance he gives her before dropping his gaze, just as quick.

"Maybe," he ventures, tone careful. "Or maybe not. Because things aren't just inevitable. They happen for a reason. Cause and effect. So we just," he looks up, trying to catch her gaze again; not assertive, seeking. "Make sure he hasn't got cause to go off."

[hacker]

"Sure, except, I don't know about you, but I wasn't tapping Tony Stark's search history for the past five years, charting exactly when he started casually browsing fascist policy." She wrestles her voice down to a hoarse shout-whisper. "We don't know if the cause has already happened or not."

Inevitable, no. Perhaps already set in motion? Maybe. Especially if he was seeking authority over the Rifters. Tony Stark always liked being the center of attention, so it could just be that. Or it could be a casual drift to the right, ending in Rifters all wearing pretty collars that the locals could leash them with, to use their powers only when permitted.