[ no dying off schedule. but let us go have a seat. ]
That was more for your benefit than mine. I try not to make it a habit to blast people's feelings and secrets in public. But I am curious. You seem very unhappy with the circumstances.
[ he could deflect or snap or lie but. he's tired, and raw, and dead. so what does it matter. might as well talk about it. ]
It changes. Sometimes I am. But how could I not be, seeing everything we face? Everything that I'm working for be crushed or cut down or erased, and no one pays any attention to anything I write or say or scream. There are weeks I can barely leave the clinic or eat, and--
[ justice has to gently steer. but he's not saying THAT part. ] ... And there are days when I cannot contain all of the words and I must write them all before I lose them again, when I have to be moving, be trying. I wasn't unhappy then, all the time. I liked it, when we would go places, when I felt as if I was doing something useful. I was happy with Hawke. And that could last for a while. A long time, even. But it always leaves again.
It's always been like that. Ever since I can remember.
[ the terrible (for anders, maybe, unclear) part of all this is that zuriel is listening very carefully. they stop fiddling with their straw, sitting forward a little and latching onto every word. the way he describes this sounds... familiar, in a sense. not entirely about them, but about people they know, and people they care for, and they can sort of see where it's hard to know how to feel about anything. ]
Sometimes it's hopeless. Like your effort was all for naught, and no matter the work someone's beat you to it, or the thing you were chasing wasn't what you thought at all. But then it's still that madness that drives you ahead because if you stop... what else is there? Having a purpose, even having the smallest bit of information or leverage to carry you forward could last you weeks, months, or maybe even years. You feel like you're making progress then, and it's hard to be unhappy about that. Especially when it's with people who share the same goal, and the people who understand all of your weird little parts that nobody else really matches up with.
[ there's a pause then, and they look away. ]
It must be confusing sometimes. Waking up not knowing which way you might feel.
[ he really isn't sure how he feels about this angel-creature putting it that way - making sense, relatable, all that. there are always denizens of the fade who know how to say the right things, making an irresistible offer.
but it's not as if circumstances can get any worse. he's already dead, right? ]
[ they want to say "i'm sorry", but that doesn't feel appropriate for the moment. but the vibe is there, and it's affection week so it means they do carefully reach over to rest a hand on his arm. ]
No, I can't imagine you could. [ so then... ] You said that you put your fate in someone else's hands. Was that why?
[ it's affection week so he doesn't immediately pull his arm back, but he does curl his fingers up into a clenched fist. ]
I was out of control. And I committed an act that needed to happen - true justice for the mages - but I deserved justice for it as well. For all that would follow. Hawke was allowed to decide my fate, and I told him I would not fight him, no matter what he decided.
[ for some reason... they pull back themselves, hand coming up to briefly touch their face, and then curling back to their lap. they seem to be trying to think about something and it isn't going as well as they'd like. ]
A means to an end, then. Did you think he would decide to end things the way that he did? You were friends.
Does he feel the same way? [ they realize this could potentially be a stupid question, but at the same time... there have been plenty of people who mercykilled their friends for things that have gone out of their control. ]
Then he needs to remember that you're both here. You've both been given the same opportunity, worse or not. [ ...sorry, but they also have very strong opinions on this. ] And if he's your friend, and if he knew what you were trying to accomplish and why, even if the way you went about it was immoral he should at least listen to you and try to understand.
[ hawke needs to live forever and never die and he can't emotionally handle any other thought. ]
To protect him. He is Champion of Kirkwall. If he knew, he would be honor-bound to stop me, to try and convince me otherwise. And if I had told him, and he wanted to help, I could not allow it. Whatever punishment and judgement that came down from the Knight Commander, the Chantry, the people: it would land solely on me.
[ oh this feels extremely familiar in offshoot ways they are not even sure how to feel about, and judging by the way they go still and just listen to all of this they understand the situation a little more. ]
And you knew that if he wanted to help and you tried to stop him, he'd just do it anyway. So it was safer to work behind his back, even if the end results led to a lie. It was something you couldn't just leave, because you saw the chance and you had to seize it while you could no matter what the people would say, but you didn't want it to reflect poorly on friends you care about.
[ yeah. see? they get it. anders' greatest sin wasn't even the chantry bomb, it was doing something behind the player character's back. gamers HATE that. ]
It was our very last chance to stand and fight. Hawke was the most important thing in my-- He was important, but some things are bigger than our lives. My life.
Such as the lives and fates of other people? Where you can only move forward to set the pieces in motion. [ ...yeah. ] We had our own Hawke back home of sorts. Someone we followed without question no matter the complications or sacrifice. I came later, but the others had been on his journey for a few years and would stop at nothing to help him succeed. But even then, they kept their secrets and went behind his back for other things they felt were important. He forgave them, even when the results nearly got all of us killed.
I know it isn't exactly the same. But maybe with the two of you here... there's that extra bit of time to really talk about it. It doesn't have to be now. But you both deserve some sort of closure, I think.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
week 0, monday
It's hard to say if you may be a tea drinker or not.
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I don't have any strong feelings about tea.
[ which is funny, because i don't know that anders has ever not a strong feeling one way or another about ... anything. ]
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If you hate it, that isn't my fault. Would you like to sit?
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You said you wanted to speak out of earshot.
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That was more for your benefit than mine. I try not to make it a habit to blast people's feelings and secrets in public. But I am curious. You seem very unhappy with the circumstances.
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People tell me I'm very unhappy in general.
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It changes. Sometimes I am. But how could I not be, seeing everything we face? Everything that I'm working for be crushed or cut down or erased, and no one pays any attention to anything I write or say or scream. There are weeks I can barely leave the clinic or eat, and--
[ justice has to gently steer. but he's not saying THAT part. ] ... And there are days when I cannot contain all of the words and I must write them all before I lose them again, when I have to be moving, be trying. I wasn't unhappy then, all the time. I liked it, when we would go places, when I felt as if I was doing something useful. I was happy with Hawke. And that could last for a while. A long time, even. But it always leaves again.
It's always been like that. Ever since I can remember.
[ its the bipolar (real) (not joke) ]
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Sometimes it's hopeless. Like your effort was all for naught, and no matter the work someone's beat you to it, or the thing you were chasing wasn't what you thought at all. But then it's still that madness that drives you ahead because if you stop... what else is there? Having a purpose, even having the smallest bit of information or leverage to carry you forward could last you weeks, months, or maybe even years. You feel like you're making progress then, and it's hard to be unhappy about that. Especially when it's with people who share the same goal, and the people who understand all of your weird little parts that nobody else really matches up with.
[ there's a pause then, and they look away. ]
It must be confusing sometimes. Waking up not knowing which way you might feel.
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but it's not as if circumstances can get any worse. he's already dead, right? ]
I couldn't go on that way anymore.
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No, I can't imagine you could. [ so then... ] You said that you put your fate in someone else's hands. Was that why?
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I was out of control. And I committed an act that needed to happen - true justice for the mages - but I deserved justice for it as well. For all that would follow. Hawke was allowed to decide my fate, and I told him I would not fight him, no matter what he decided.
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A means to an end, then. Did you think he would decide to end things the way that he did? You were friends.
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I betrayed him. I lied to him about what I was doing. I wouldn't tell him what I was planning, but I made him help anyway. I deserved worse.
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What if I ask and he says yes?
[ then it crystalizes it, sets it in stone he's not allowed to want to live again. ]
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[ this raises a new question. ]
Why did you lie to him anyway?
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[ hawke needs to live forever and never die and he can't emotionally handle any other thought. ]
To protect him. He is Champion of Kirkwall. If he knew, he would be honor-bound to stop me, to try and convince me otherwise. And if I had told him, and he wanted to help, I could not allow it. Whatever punishment and judgement that came down from the Knight Commander, the Chantry, the people: it would land solely on me.
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And you knew that if he wanted to help and you tried to stop him, he'd just do it anyway. So it was safer to work behind his back, even if the end results led to a lie. It was something you couldn't just leave, because you saw the chance and you had to seize it while you could no matter what the people would say, but you didn't want it to reflect poorly on friends you care about.
[ yeah. okay. okay. yeah. ]
... I didn't realize it was so complicated.
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It was our very last chance to stand and fight. Hawke was the most important thing in my-- He was important, but some things are bigger than our lives. My life.
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I know it isn't exactly the same. But maybe with the two of you here... there's that extra bit of time to really talk about it. It doesn't have to be now. But you both deserve some sort of closure, I think.
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So, you aren't Spirits.
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I think the correct term is "angel." Guardian, specifically.
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