allthisshitisweird | Darkest Timeline AU Flashback Meme

Darkest Timeline AU Flashback Meme

DARKEST TIMELINE AU FLASHBACK MEME

Did you work out something for your character's darkest timeline AU that you love so much it would be an absolute crime not to be able to write it out for real? WHAT LUCK! This meme is here for all your flashback-from-the-future needs. It's also the place to display sad single-character vignettes, letters that were never sent to dead friends, and anything else your dastardly little heart desires. Go forth and suffer.

The contents of this meme do not count for AC. For AC, you must participate in the real logs for the event, which will take place in Cloudreach 9:48, or else continue your normal non-event RP in the present (Guardian 9:43). However, you can count log threads in this meme toward your rewards points for the month.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Separate starters below, poke me on discord at Nadat#4647 or Nadat on plurk if you'd like something.]

While he takes a little caution when he's in Orzammar, Anders' location is fairly easy to find out anyway. Yes, there's a risk. But he's a spirit healer, which means he wants people to know where to bring their injured... and where to find him to join up. Their numbers are low even at the best of times, after all.

A clearing throat from the doorway has him looking up from his current assessment of their herb stock. The handsignal from his aide gets a nod, and Anders nods again, this time toward the shadowed person in the doorway.

"Come in. You've interest in joining our efforts?"

"Not especially."

Now - that's an unmistakable voice, even if the woman it belongs to has changed, some, since he last saw her. Both more and less than it appears; much about her was always true. The world around them changed, though, and the context - different parts of her mean different things than they used to. The same crystal figure, refracting different lights. Soft, slim-fitting leather gloves cover her hands as she drags fingertips along the entranceway and passes through it, boots replacing slippers, trousers in place of layered skirts; her hair does not fall forward when she turns her head, braided severely but for the bangs that still frame her face, a face that smiles, eyebrow quirked.

"Not formally, anyway. I was curious. Hello, again."

He doesn't quite smile, but his expression is warmer. It's been so long, and sometimes reminders are pleasant things.

"Come in." He waits for the other mage to leave before even thinking her name; with no idea what she's been up to he doesn't want to risk compromising anything. Then he's moving around and pulling out a chair before offering a hand, missing two fingers. Odds are she's not here to kill him, and paranoia is exhausting so he's choosing to relax.

"You look as well as anyone could hope, Gwen. Welcome. Can I get you... We've water, and I believe there's some assorted nuts that were just roasted yesterday." There's not much, but they have supplies coming in this evening. No one's starving just yet.

The man that steps forward seems to be fond of wearing darker things. Dark leathers, dark gloves that cover his hands - even the brown hair that's been pulled back is being held in place with a dark strip of cloth. But for the moment, there's a flicker of something lighter to be seen in all that darkness, although it's coming from a face that's no-longer clean shaven, the beard hiding some scars that weren't there a few years ago. It's a crooked smile, slightly lopsided just like it always used to be back before things went bad...and maybe the warmth that's in the perhaps-familiar brogue is the same as it used to be, as well.

"Depends on how you feel about having those efforts undertaken by an old friend."

"Jamie." There's a great deal of warmth in his voice in return as he gets up from his seat and crosses the distance, holding a hand out for a shake and the other arm out in case he wants a hug.

"I'm glad to see you." He has a mental list of Rifters he's been worried about, and Jamie's high up on it. "And you'd be welcome."

He's more than happy to turn that handshake into a hug, indulging for a moment in the simple joy of touch - and maybe a couple of glad back-thumpings, if Anders doesn't mind those. When he pulls back, though, it's with a small shake of his head.

"It's not Jamie anymore. At least not in places where it's not safe."

If Anders is here interviewing people who want to join his cause, though, it's likely safe enough for the moment. Still-

"It's Black Donald, now. It's nice to hear my old name from time to time, mind, it's probably best not to use it too often. Not if you're needing me to keep both hands to help out with what you've got in mind."

He nods quickly. "I'm sorry. I'd not heard. Black Donald, then." After the hug and back-thumps, he gives Jamie a smile.

It's an interesting contrast to what he's done, gone from Anders to Detlef and back to Anders. Anders is a name that can be useful, and while he's had to resort to what he'd wanted to leave behind, he's made his peace with this. More or less.

"I'd like you to keep both hands. I can't accept what the people of my world are doing to rifters, and that's part of the reason why I'm leading this group. ...Not to get going on a speech. Sorry. It's been a day of telling people why they should join up when they're not at direct risk."

Jamie's smile turns more than a touch wry at the comment, even as he goes over to fetch something-or-other to sit on.

"Oh, aye, I'm a bit fond of them myself. I'd even say that I'd need them to play the pipes, but-"

That's not likely to happen again even if he keeps both hands and he knows it, which brings out a shrug on his end. Still, he's made his peace with that part of things, and has put it behind him to focus on other things. He plonks himself down on his impromptu seat, no longer bothering with the little bit of extra adjusting that he used to once back when he still wore his kilt. He learned to stop that a long time ago. Safer that way.

"At any rate, I get where you're coming from. Figure you've had to give that one a fair few times today, given I'm thinking that maybe not everyone's got quite the same level of personal interest that I do, to tell you the truth. But make no mistake, I am interested, if you'll have me."

"There's no if. I'd be glad to have you." There's no hesitation there. Anders has some trustworthy people, but he's not about to turn away another. Jamie's proven himself friend time and time again and if he's willing, Anders will gladly take his help. And while he wishes he could offer some hope in regard to the pipes, Anders isn't an optimist. They're fighting a war of attrition at best right now, and he doesn't know that it can be turned around. But he also isn't a quitter.

"So do you have a preference as to what you'd be doing? It's... been a while." War changes people. He's not sure what Jamie's been up to, and so he can't say where the man's talents would best be spent.

The last remnants of the smile on Jamie's face vanishes, replaced with a more somber expression.

"Aye. It has."

There's days where it seems like it's been longer than just a while - days where it feels like it's always been this way and that will never change. But Jamie's not a quitter either, and if they can't turn it around, at least he won't go down without a fight.

"Think you might know what I'm going to say, though. Seems to me you'll need people who're able to be mobile, to go somewhere and be in and and out before the enemy knows what's hit them. Raids, small strikes, the odd ambush when you need it...I can do all those things. Some of them I've been doing since I was old enough to fight. That's not changed."

"Because running around with a bonus rifter who could get you into even more trouble is a great idea," Waver said dryly, coming to lean in the doorway. His arms were folded across his chest, his hair pulled back into a braid, the rest of him caked in dust from the road.

"But I would like to help, if you think that there would be a way for remote assistance."

Waver had decided that remaining within Orzammar, save needed excursions out was the key to his own safety. But that also meant that he felt himself going stir crazy, and desired nothing more than multiple ways to distract himself, as well as help.

"I just got in from running something with Iskandar, sorry I'm tracking crap in."

Anders smirks as he nods to a chair.

"I've always been one to invite more trouble. That part of my reputation is well-earned." Escaping from the Circle seven times tended to rile people up. "Have a seat. There's plenty of use in remote assistance, information being the biggest part. We've never enough of a picture of what's going on. Is that something you'd be interested in doing?"

Waver didn't protest at the idea of sitting down. If anything, he fwumped onto the chair with a certain amount of desperation for an actual chair rather than a horse saddle, and nearly melted onto the whole damn thing. It wasn't the most endearing of affectations, but at least it was honest. This kind of situation deserved honesty.

"It would, given that between me and the bigger, louder one I hang out with," he was never going to run out of affectionate names for Iskandar. "Are mostly going to be staying in this area until circumstances shift."

He snorts at the reference to Iskandar. There are no nicknames more fitting than big and loud and variations thereof, in his opinion, but the snort is still fond.

"Orzammar is a useful base. I can't blame anyone for taking position here." And he's assuming that they're not going to be doing nothing. Not if they're going to be passing on information. "You're tired, I'm guessing, from the way you sat. Did you need water or healing? I can offer both."

Coming up with affectionate names for Iskandar was practically a hobby these days, not that anyone needed to know of it.

"Water, please. The rest takes care of itself if I sleep for a few hours, which I'll be doing soon enough."

"Of course," he says as he gets up and grabs two cups, filling them with water and bringing them over.

"Are you implying that you can heal while you sleep? Or are you merely tired?" Because the former is impressive if so, but Anders might just be hoping too much for special abilities among their allies.

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kartereo - 2017-02-02 23:26 (UTC) - Expand

"Yes," Harry responds easily. He is tired of feeling useless and he's been careful to learn how to use a staff and now that he feels a bit more confident in it he wants to fight, to do something.

It has been a few days since the song began, though Nathaniel has said nothing of it to anyone. Anders may note, however, that Nathaniel has seemed to be in pain--something no longer such a trouble since coming underground, because the barometric pressure changes so little. In their little house--a tiny stone thing they were permitted to take over--he is getting ready, putting on clothes and armor so he can head to the perimeter and work.

Without thinking, because it is difficult to think now, he is humming. Humming the tune Anders heard once, years ago, when it was Corypheus who sang it.

Edited 2017-01-29 22:50 (UTC)

The tune Nate's humming is familiar and Anders doesn't pay attention at first as he laces up his boots, just glancing over with a small smile. It's a few moments later, as he's standing up, that it hits him and he freezes, looking back over at Nate. He doesn't want to ask. He wants to ignore this and pretend everything's fine. For several moments he wonders if he can just ignore it and act like he'd heard nothing, but that's not fair to anyone.

And so, heart falling in his chest, Anders sinks down to sit back on the bed before looking at his hands and speaking quietly. "You're humming."

Nathaniel doesn't realize it until Anders mentions. That's when the music stops, his breath hitches, and he wonders how long Anders has known. If he only just realized, how much Nathaniel would have preferred him to find out some other way. His eyes close briefly.

"Of course. I'm sorry." A moment of denial while Nathaniel pretends the humming alone was what Anders heard, not the song. But Anders' posture indicates otherwise. Nathaniel hesitates, then wraps his arms around him as tightly as he can.

"It's all right," he whispers. "I'll be fine. And so will you."

He clings more than he hugs, holding tight to his partner. They'd always had a limited time, they'd known it, but it isn't until now that it sinks in. He's going to lose Nate. He's going to lose Nate soon.

It's not all right, it won't be fine, and Anders chokes back the argument because he doesn't want to fight. "I... How long? Why didn't you, why didn't you say?" His voice breaks on the last word despite how he's fighting to hold himself together. He can't lose Nate.

"Just a few days." He plants a few kisses on that golden temple. "Just a few days. There's no telling how long we have."

He knows it's easier for him, that he will be the first to go. It's much worse to be the one being left behind.

There's no telling which means it could be as short as a few days, and Anders can't even keep the promise he'd made to himself so long ago, that if Nate heard his Calling first Anders would go alongside him. They're at war, and so many people hang in the balance.

"I can't do this without you. I can't do any of it without you." The words are selfish but he wouldn't take them back even if he could. "How do I... I can't. I can't."

Gentle hands cup Anders' face.

"Yes you can," Nathaniel whispers. "You can do anything. You are the man I married. You can do whatever you set your mind to. And I'm going nowhere, for a while. I can bear the song for a time yet. I won't leave you."

Anders

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