faderift | [semi-open] a friendly query

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[semi-open] a friendly query

WHO: Cassandra and rifters/shardbearers
WHAT: Rifter interrogations
WHEN: Following Cassandra's log with Galadriel and the advisors' conversation
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: For planned rifter/shardbearer interrogation threads with Cassandra! If we haven't discussed your character's thread, please drop me a note here or hit me up on Plurk for general (this can be very general) setup/discussion of what you hope the outcome to be. She'll be most interested in talking to rifter mages, but we can swing her interrogating anyone with a shard.

With or without your support, she had said to the Spymaster, and she had meant it. She would have preferred that Leliana understand her position, the necessity of action - but she does not, and dwelling on it will do nothing to change that now. Whether anyone else sees it or not, Cassandra at least recognizes the risk that the shardbearers pose. If nothing else, they must understand who the rifters are, what they are capable of - and what they may do.

There are still plenty who agree with her, who are not as idealistic in this matter as Leliana, and it's not difficult to find soldiers willing to find those of interest and bring them to her, one at a time. She waits until each is seated before she turns to face them, and always begins the same way, whether she recognizes them or not.

"I am Cassandra Pentaghast, and I represent the Inquisition. State your name, and where you come from."

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"I understand," Cassandra says softly. Gently, almost, for a moment, before the steel returns to her tone. "But you are here now."

She pauses, merely looking at him, and then pushes back from the table, staring at the floor as she paces the room.

"The same happened to - to the Herald. She was...a bystander. Uninvolved, pulled into the midst of a war that was not hers." One that had taken her life, in the end. She bites her lip, glancing at Church. "I did not trust her, at first. But she proved herself. Whatever she believed, whatever she might have chosen, she accepted her lot. And she helped us. She closed the Breach, and saved us all." She nods to the mark on Church's hand. "You can help us too."

That she's being (acting?) vulnerable is a...change. It's throwing off his usual jive of anger. Or disbelief. Maybe he's been around stupid sim soldiers too long, or tired ex-Freelancers, or whatever. Usually arguments escalate. Even to the point of shooting each other. But like Wash, she is certain of what he might be, of what he can do, and that calms her.

Everyone always seems to know what he's supposed to do. What he can do. "Given all the rips and tears in the fabric of reality that keep opening up, I wouldn't be so sure she saved you at all." It's not an angry assertion; he's heard about the Herald chick. That she's wickedly important to these people. But saved them? Far as he's been able to tell, the Inquisition is basically in the same boat they were before this chick died.

Church leans his elbows on the table, scrubs at this face with his non-sharded hand. "Blah blah you're a computer you can help, blah blah you've got a pain laser in your hand you can help. Really starting to think I'm not just a bystander in all the bullshit that happens to me." Don't even get him started on the time travel that may or may not have happened which saw him be directly responsible for every shitty thing that happened to him in the canyon. Stupid fucking Gary.

"Y'know, if all you were asking for was for me to learn to help close your damn rifts, you could've just...asked. In the first place. Instead of this whole Spanish Inquisition interrogation thing."

Cassandra's expression tightens, pain flickering briefly across her face before she masks it behind her usual severe expression.

"Evelyn closed the Breach, and she died in the process," she says, her voice low and dangerous. Just in case Church doesn't know. Just in case he hadn't meant to disparage the memory of a dead woman, and a hero. Her friend. "You did not see it, so you do not know. The rifts you have seen are nothing in comparison. The Breach would have killed us all."

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself, before turning back to him.

"That is not what this is about. I did not have you brought here merely to ask your help. You were brought here so that you could be evaluated as a threat."

Something that she's fairly sure he isn't, at this point. Still, her eyes narrow as she tries to make sense of his rantings.

"We are not...what is Spanish? What is a computer?"

"So the rifts are, what, just a minor inconvenience? No, I didn't see this thing, or this Herald, and I'm sorry she's dead and made you guys sad, I guess." Look, he's had a slightly different experience with how so-called friends react to him being dead. "But falling through time and space and reality just to land on your doorstep? Kind of more than just an inconvenience!"

That's not really what she's saying, but to go blah blah the crazy reality-warping holes you fell through are no big deal compared to the big scar sky breach thing. "I've died too many times for this stupid war to just up and say oh hey, yeah, sure, I'll give my life trying to close a giant demon portal." The lie is that he knows he would, if he had to. He'd sure like to avoid it, though. "I would kind of like to find a way back home instead. And maybe it's through your portals. Without the bringing in demons part, because that part is dangerous and sucks for literally everyone involved.

"And," he continues, because Church doesn't know when to stop speaking, at all, ever, because boy his feet sure are tasty aren't they, "you want to see if I'm a threat? If I'm a threat? The only people I'm a threat to are the big bad scary people from my world, which is why I'm always some pawn or weapon in some stupidly elaborate plot so that some people don't have to face war crime charges--I'm not a threat here. Is it the glowing hand? I can't do anything about that; that was your Fade at work. Is it my face? Cuz I didn't pick it, but I didn't think it looked all that threatening. I'd boast about my glorious muscles, but-" Cassandra's are probably bigger than his "-I've seen qunari, man, and I am not about to boast what I don't have." That's a first.

Cassandra is never going to accuse Varric of talking too much ever again.

Addressing everything Church says is clearly impossible, as well as pointless. She suspects that he does not even expect a response to it all, with as much as he rants and raves and as little as he acknowledges her own replies. Perhaps he simply enjoys the sound of his own voice, but if so, she cannot imagine why. It is high-pitched and whiny and horrible.

So she says nothing, merely crosses her arms and glares and lets the words wash over her, until one word in particular catches her attention.

She freezes, and leans forward, her eyes boring into his own, her tone dangerously quiet.

"What do you mean, died too many times?"

Well gosh, Seeker, you don't hear him complaining about your voice. Granted, it's about the only thing he's not complaining about.

Angry women are a force to be reckoned with. Oh, he'll reckon with them all right, but he's got enough self-preservation sometimes to know when to actually shut up. So. This is him, shutting up for once. Did he say that? Should he pass it off as a joke? Unfortunately for Church, poker faces work much better when you have a helmet on. And no face. So there's a panic that lights up his face like a great big glowing beacon of 'guilt, this is the guilty party, look no further, all the guilt is right here'.

"Uh." See how eloquent he gets when threatened with angry women who can and will kick his ass? "Uh, I mean, figuratively speaking. Metaphorically. A-analogously? No, wait, that one's not right... Not like actual death, that'd be--I mean, what, like that's possible unless I was one of your swamp zombies, right? That's not a thing. That I am. I'm not a swamp zombie. Obviously. Since I'm not dead. That thing. That thing that I'm not. That I'm only figuratively speaking of. Like inner death! Of...spirit? And. Faith and hope and shit like that or fucking whatever figurative language you want to put, uh, y'know, to use for something like that. Um. War is hell?" There's a moment before he has to add, "Do you even have a concept of hell here, cuz, I'm not clear on that religious matter yet--"

"Stop lying!"

She slams a fist down on the table, any previous sympathy and understanding completely gone. He is insufferable! He talks too much, he had insulted Evelyn, he refuses to answer her questions, and now -

"Tell me what you actually meant by that. It was not a metaphor. Tell me the truth. Now."

"Christ, don't bite my head off! I'm just saying-- I'm just--" Shit, he's not yammering his way out of this one.

"I mean I've died. I've died a lot. Okay? Happy? I've had bodies that have been blown up and shot at and stabbed and whatever. They weren't real human bodies, they were...I mean, you don't have a concept for robots here, but like, uh...mechanical? Made of metal and gears and wires and electricity and made to look like a walking talking suit of armor. Which, y'know, blends in perfectly when everyone else is a walking talking suit of armor. They just happen to be suits of armor with people inside them."

The first death had been pretty eye-opening, but he's used to robot bodies now. How many times have they gone through ~~that gag~~ shipped out robot parts? Ugh, and Tucker had to flip his dongle that one time, and then there was the whole Sarge's plan of 'stuff the robots with a bomb to blow everyone into the future'...

"But I kind of couldn't die, and I could kind of. Possess other robots! Andsometimespeople. When it was necessary. Kind of like a ghost, but also kind of...kind of not a ghost?"

The AI thing is still new. He's had a few months to digest it, but he's been spending a lot of time absolutely avoiding that thanks. "I'm a...I'm kinda like a... I'm like a person that was...made? But I can't do everything I could before now that I'm here, and I'm worried that if I die here, I'll just...die."

He feels it's prudent to add: "I was very explicitly told not to go around telling people that. Because. Some people might take it the wrong way?"

"You are...

Something made. A golem, or something like it? A - a person made of steel, of electricity, somehow - she looks doubtfully at his body, seemingly of the same flesh and blood as anyone else.

But he keeps talking, as usual, and her eyes snap up to his, her entire body suddenly on edge. Even the guards on either side of the door, motionless and unaffected up until now, seem to tense slightly. There is a metallic clang, and suddenly Church finds himself backed against the wall, Cassandra's sword at his throat and her face close to his.

He is not a man. He is not human, by his own admission. But worse than any of that - he can possess people. As a spirit might. A demon.

"Tell me why I shouldn't just kill you now."

Oh, okay, yeah, see, this is why Addie told him to keep his fucking mouth shut on the whole 'not originally human' matter. With the swords and the anger and the probably cutting off his head thing. And, you know, the only swords he ever really had to deal with before was the special stupid key/prophecy sword of question Tucker had. That's basically it. Not real metal swords turned on him.

"B-because!" he stammers. Oh, if you thought he was articulate before... "Because I'm not a demon!" That's the fear, right? Demons possessing mages, walking around in their skin? "I was about to die and then this green portal thing happened and when I fell into the fucking swamp I had a human body! I didn't pick it! I'm not from the Fade! We don't have demons in my world, and I can't possess shit now. I'm stuck here. I'm not--I'm not a god damn danger to anyone."

If he could melt into the wall he would. Hell if he could ghost out of this body and leave it frozen in place or leave it to whatever fate it might have, he would. But he can't. "I'm a real boy now, for better or worse. And if you wanna kill an innocent guy from another world and open up that can of worms, then..." Then she's stupider than she looks, but jesus fuckin christ he's not going to say that to her face. "Then could you maybe not do that?!"

Her face twists, but she doesn't press the sword any closer to his skin. Normally, perhaps, she would not let his pleading stop her. But in the wake of Galadriel, of Leliana's unforeseen anger and her vicious disapproval of Cassandra doing so much as imprisoning a potential threat -

She does not dare.

With a frustrated ugh, she pulls back, lowering her sword to clutch it tightly at her side.

"Swear to me," she grounds out. "Whatever you are. That you will do nothing to harm any member of the Inquisition, or any resident of Skyhold. That you will follow any orders you are given and you will use whatever power or skill you may have only to assist in fighting the enemies of the Inquisition, and to assist in the closing of the rifts."

Not getting his head cut off is a plus! This is a positive. It's a step in the right direction. So obviously he's with her up until the 'follow any orders', which has him weakly getting out a, "hey, wait a minute-"

But, sword. Sword! Sword and angry woman, kind of important details, so he shuts up. To be fair, aside from the follow orders thing, it's a pretty reasonable request. (Demand.) This isn't his army, and maybe he doesn't want to play soldier anymore. What if the Inquisition ends up on the wrong side of something, and he doesn't want to fight an enemy? (Would he even know to question it? He recognizes, at least, that the more he learns about Thedas, the less he understands. And alien demon things? Need fighting.)

"Yeah, okay, sure!" His hands are still up by his head to look non-threatening, in case she has reason to come at him again. "Sure, yes, those things, whatever, fine, yeah! I'm not here to hurt people that don't need hurt, okay, I'm not a demon, I'm just a guy trying to not die in your crazy backwards world of magic okay!"

She glowers a moment longer, still not entirely convinced - but he had sworn. If nothing else, she will be fully within her rights to execute him for treason to the Inquisition, should he disobey.

And he is clearly not the powerful mage Galadriel is. She would have dismissed him as completely ineffectual, if he had not mentioned possession.

She nods curtly, and steps back.

"Good," she says, and gestures to the door. Still glaring. "You may go."

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