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[One of the biggest problems with research into her major projects at home is that simply saying what she's after is a gamble. The chances aren't slim that she'd be discouraged or outright denied help by virtue of what she asks being thought absolutely impossible, or too close to revealing a Warden secret, or borderline heretical. The Seven-Fold City has been the best place she's found to study, lacking any of these issues.

She's done as well as she could here, but now her problem is she can't readily make sense of new ideas without the framework of her home. She needs new input. Fresh, entirely unprecedented angles on the matter. And what better place than here, which barely seems to have even heard of Thedas?

She pans the camera deliberately over stacks of books on a table to show off her research. The volumes are from Tomorrow and Sorcery both, with a couple of field guides from Adventure thrown in, tomes on magic and medicinal marvels.]

All of this, and it's worth so little. [She turns the device around to show her face. She's well-rested, as opposed to the last time she'd contacted the network while binge-studying. There's no brightness this time, no spark of curiosity in her eyes. Instead, her expression one of inerrant focus. She's on a mission, but it weighs on her.] I need perspective. New ones. I was wondering if you all could help me. I'm working on two projects right now, and...I need some outsider's insight.

The first project is...well, it's hard to describe, but there's a slow-acting poison in my world. It can be treated to act even slower, but not nullified. It's less like a spider's venom and more magical, but...well, I'm trying to cure it. If anyone has any knowledge of magical illnesses, forces of corruption, or...oh, anything you think might be relevant, I'd like you to share it. It's, um... [She glances at the books offscreen.] ...bloodborne, if that's useful.

[She seats herself at the table the books are stacked on, her staff clinking lightly as she props it up against the stone wall beside her. The crescent moon tip catches the firelight of a torch nearby, glimmering gold.]

The second is much easier to explain, but, I'm worried its relevance is limited to magic. In my world, demonic and spiritual possession can only be cured by gathering the right amount of mages and materials, and having enough time to kill or drive off the demon in its own realm. Otherwise, the only way is to kill the possessed.

So tell me about possession in your world, and the ways you have to cure it. Maybe something will be useful for my world, too.

[She shifts her weight a little, glancing down as if self-conscious. The click of claws on stone approaches and a dog's whine comes from offscreen. She reaches out of frame to pet the animal, her voice taking on a slower, graver tone.]

I know this sounds like a lot. It is a lot. But I need to do this, I need to succeed. There are innocent lives depending on it. I'd appreciate any help you can give.

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[And it would just figure that the first time she gets it into her head to take advantage of the lack of Thedosians in this place...a Thedosian shows up. One of the "innocent lives", however innocent you can call him, she's talking about, too. Certainly one of her strongest driving forces behind this ambition at any rate.

She clearly recognizes him, a smile breaking the tired stoicism from before for a moment at the pun in his username. And then it becomes a sadder smile, as if they've reunited at a funeral instead of on the most neutral ground there is. His own lack of recognition doesn't register as such at first. Maybe he's just playing it as passively as he can, after all, and the sorrow and regret coming over her only make it more difficult to notice. She might have been able to do something, if she'd been there. If only...]

Oh, Anders. I know you do - did you think they wouldn't report what happened to your commander? [Her voice wavers a bit, but she catches herself.]

I'm glad to see you really are still yourself.

[It had been one of the most heartbreaking reports she'd ever been given. But one thing had stood out to her - he had fled. Despite having no survivors to pursue him, he'd run away. And not to attack more - there was no more violence in his wake, at least, until the trail went cold. That required a presence of recognition one doesn't usually see in abominations. She'd held out hope, because of that.]

[At first, the blank look on his face could probably rival a rock's, but it slowly grows suspicious. This person is very confused or very dangerous, perhaps both. He could almost pass it off as the former if not for the fact that she appears well aware of his identity and, of far greater concern, his condition.

Amell looked nothing like this woman, and she was his direct commander, with no one above her in the pecking order as it were. Naturally, it's impossible for what the stranger is saying to be true, but here they are. There's absolutely no explanation for her knowledge, and it makes him all the more nervous.

Still, if she really is privy to his secret, maybe it would be in his best interest at this point to figure out just what she's playing at. He's had to protect himself before and he'll certainly have to do it again sooner or later, though it's a shame he has to worry about it so much in this place. It was almost a breath of fresh air for a few minutes there.

Fortunately or not, he's accustomed to even that being stolen from him.]

Excuse me. I don't believe we've met.

[The fun to be had when worldstate circumstances leave the initial possession happening close enough to Vigil's Keep for the right people to see the immediate aftermath soon enough to figure A: it was him and B: it seemed very likely he was possessed. Katherine doesn't know by what, exactly. After all, it was a battleground, which means death. And lots of death meant, well...a spirit healer working his magic in an area with a weakened Veil would have been a prime target. (Not that the truth would come entirely out of the blue; she'd heard Nathaniel suggest that very idea to Justice once.)

But this, this is new. Katherine stares at the screen, taken aback. For a moment, her mind stumbles over itself for an answer. Possession shouldn't interfere with memory, should it? Connor had no memory of his possessed moments, but he knew what had happened before them, and this can't be Anders's possessor she's speaking to because that's...not the reaction of a demon meeting its host's friends for the first time. A demon trying to blend in would try to play along. ...Right?

In the meantime, while her brain is scrambling, her mouth isn't faring much better:]

Um...Anders? I know you can't be from before we met- in Amaranthine anyway. I mean, even then you recognized me from the Circle!

[Though, now that she's brought that to her already-rushing mind, how had he recognized her? With the torment the Circle was to him, her relative privilege within it had to have been frustrating to see.]

[This is... definitely one of the weirder things that have happened to him. And he's made friends with demon possessed cats... Sort of.

She's certainly talking like the Commander, bringing up things only she, or perhaps those who were close to both of them, would know. But that's less reassuring to Anders and far more worrisome. If this woman has done anything to his friend... their friend, there will be a great comeuppance.]

Who are you? How do you know these things?

[That makes two of them - she's never had a friend just forget her like this. It hasn't occurred to her that the whole "multiple worlds" thing could also include variants of the same world yet. As it is she's very confused. And starting to hurt a little. And maybe panic. What happened to her Warden? To her friend?]

I know them because they happened? Because I was there?

[She searches his face for any sign of recognition, or for any sign of anything off. She swallows, tries to seem less frantic but doesn't entirely succeed. This is just too far outside anything she knows how to deal with.]

You really don't recognize me? Katherine Amell? Formerly Irving's own apprentice? Commander of the Grey? Your friend?

[Definitely did not succeed at not sounding frantic. When she trusts someone the way she trusts Anders, she's counting on them to not do things like this.]

[This is all sounding more impossible by the second. Anders is almost impressed with himself for not lighting up yet -- he hasn't, has he? -- what with his exponentially increasing frustration and suspicion.

But then, on top of all that, there's suddenly concern. For all intents and purposes, everything she's said matches up with his experience, it's just the name and the face he doesn't recognize. He has more than enough reason to be wary, distrustful, but the distress in her voice and her face seem genuine. It makes him feel guilty enough to soften his glare into a neutral look at least.]

No, I don't. I know a Robyn Amell by that description. [Now he just seems to be getting tired the longer this goes on. Maker preserve him if he's performing his usual act and walking into an obvious trap, but he's actually starting to pity this "Katherine."]

"Robyn"?

[Katherine's own distress evens out some, in favor of utter confusion.]

There couldn't have been two Amells at the same Circle, we would have known each other. And our stories shouldn't be-...

[She deflates a little, begrudgingly acknowledging her inability to grasp the situation.

That's when her lap is suddenly invaded by the top half of a mabari hound who pries his head between her arms, shoving a wet black nose into the device with a heavy and kind of grumpy whuff - who's making his human upset?]

Thunder! Down, boy! Things are...weird right now, but he's still my friend.

[The mabari whines, not entirely satisfied. Rather than getting down like he was told, he lays his front end over Katherine's legs like a giant doggy blanket.]

[Incredible! Even the dog looks familiar, in a way. His presence at least matches up with a supposed Warden Commander Amell, though the whole thing still makes absolutely no sense to Anders and he can't imagine being able to comprehend everything that's at work here.

Still, he feels responsible for her upset in one way or another. Did he know her? He has a clear image in his mind of the Commander he was so loyal to, but his memory of late has had its shortcomings. It hasn't yet gone so far as to replace existing memories, only omit certain new ones, but is it really such a far cry to think it could start? Amell isn't someone he would forgive himself for hurting if that's the case. It isn't a risk he's eager to take.]

You're serious, aren't you. [It's a bit more like a statement than a question.] Who else was under your command? Nathaniel? Sigrun? Justice..?

[She nods, for a moment not saying anything in the relief of being rid of that feeling of being threatened that wasn't really a threat. Whatever that was. The hand that Thunder had pushed free of her device, she rests on the dog's body, grateful for the sentiment. He only wants to protect her, after all. Even if that just meant protecting her feelings.]

Yes, they are my Wardens- well, it would be a bit pretentious to call a spirit one of mine, but he was a friend. Oghren, too, and Velanna.

[She swallows again, pausing again as if catching her breath after a long run.]

I don't think you're lying, either. You wouldn't, not about something like this. But that doesn't help us understand what this is all about.

Edited (Two-thirds of that initial example did not vanish or die in her worldstate, self.) 2016-11-29 06:12 (UTC)

[Anders grimaces at the growing pang in his temple that he can't quite differentiate between a headache or a stress overload. He can't deny a nagging feeling that's almost reminiscent of coming home, but paranoia keeps him from relaxing in spite of his shame.

The least he can do is humor her, right? If she turns out to be tricking him, he can deal with the consequences then.]

You said you were... given a report? What did they tell you, exactly?

It was...a report of a report, actually.

[She gently shoves her dog's shoulder.] Get down now, Thunder, I need to get into my pouch.

[Thunder listens, and she digs into a hip pouch offscreen, producing a folded-up piece of paper. It isn't like she has to refresh her memory (she doesn't unfold it yet, in fact), but talking about it...it feels like she has to have it in her hand.]

You were part of a group of Wardens who had gone to address signs of darkspawn activity, and were returning. Your group made camp at the same place as a delivery from the Circle - magic supplies, runes, potions, and enchantment services, as a favor from my friend Sandal. You were...ill, or something? [The uncertainty breaks the more official tone she's taken.]

The report came from their camp, and they didn't know the details. I, um...doubt it was just illness, given the rest.

[Here, she unfolds the paper, runs her thumb over a part of the bottom. Her eyes are looking through it, ever working through its puzzle.]

Some of the Wardens in your group had once been templars, and one of the templars escorting the Circle group was a friend of the one who had been watching your condition. They were talking in the entrance to the tent they were keeping you in, and...

There was a light. A bright blue light, and a surge of magic. I can only imagine they made some disparaging comment about mages, or-... Or worse, speculated on what had happened to you - and what they would do about it.

The report only exists because a Tranquil who had been enchanting the last pieces of equipment for us ran for her life.

[She pauses for a moment, to let that sink in.]

...Garevel didn't see at first how strange that was. Doesn't it sound like a normal reaction? To run? So he didn't question it for her to answer, and I wish he had. I don't understand it, either, but-

He sent some of the guard to the location...and they found a massacre.

[She should pause here, let him react. Defend himself. Clarify some of this, any of this. But she's caught up in the heart-stopping disbelief of the moment she'd first read it, leading to the frantic nonstop flight on dozens of insect wings to see it for herself, to the fear closing her throat as she examined the wounds and ruled out the damage caused by scavengers after the fact... Her voice starts breaking in spots as she continues, unable to bring herself to stop until she's told the whole story:]

Thankfully, I- I was only two days away on foot, myself, bringing supplies to Avernus, so- so since I could shapeshift and fly I could see before they burned the bodies-... Scavengers had eaten some already but-... [When her voice breaks this time, it's a sob. She restrains herself, but it's already happened.] But...

[The camera is shaking - so are her hands. Thunder whimpers off-camera.]

What was it, Anders? Hunger? [Her voice is a sorrowful, fearful whisper on the tail of remembered emotion. A good chunk of time had passed since then, and the fact that this Anders was, somehow, under someone else's command, has escaped her thoughts. He was here. Himself. He'd managed to regain control and recounting the report of what had happened was enough to drive it home, wrapping up relief and all the pain of relating it into a confusing tangle of emotion.]

[There's certainly no doubt left in his mind that this is either the Commander or some... different version of her, somehow, in all of this mixed up mess. Her knowledge is too vast and her reaction too genuine to be that of a pretender. It's almost otherworldly, listening to her speak about it, like he's watching someone else's life unfold rather than being told his own history, but at the same time, it stirs up the memories he much rather would've forgotten. The anger and hate and Maker, the blood, the torn flesh and the taste of iron on his tongue --

It's all he can do to keep himself from vomiting or devolving into tears as well. There's a tremble in his arms just the same and he forces himself to sit down so his legs don't give out from under him.

He can't so much as look her, this stranger who's so painfully familiar, in the eye, even through the screen. His eyes close and his head gives a couple of slow shakes as he clutches desperately at any sense of stability inside him.]

No. It was... It is Justice. [Or maybe "was" would be more accurate. He swallows down bile and regret and more hate, again remembering blood, but fresher. Innocent blood.

His head shakes again.]

We wanted to help. To fix the Circle. But -- you must understand. It isn't his fault. There was something inside me, Commander, [The title slips, and he either doesn't notice or doesn't bother correcting himself] before he joined me, and it... hurt him. I hurt him.

[And she's trying to live up to the image of that rank, to live up to being a leader and that means being steady and stable and not just barely holding tears back. It had been a problem throughout the Blight, this need she felt to let people see her afraid or upset as little as possible. Apparently, things don't really change so readily.

She watches him sit down, keep his gaze off the camera.

And then he names his possessor. If anything dries her tears, it's numb shock.]

Justice... He didn't make it back across the Veil.

[She hadn't noticed. She, a spirit healer, reaching out to the Fade to heal the wounded from the battle at Vigil's Keep, hadn't noticed the free spirit trapped on the wrong side of the Veil.

The problem with having shouldered so many problems for so many people is it's become too easy to blame herself for every problem. If she and Anders had been friends in the Circle instead of barely knowing each other, would things have been better? If she had noticed Justice, would things have been better?]

...That sounds familiar, that idea. Voluntary possession. [It comes to her, she remembers the voices behind her as they traveled the road between Vigil's Keep and Amaranthine, and remembering it solely for how interesting an idea it had seemed at the time. So much for that.] Nathaniel, he suggested it to Justice. I'm not surprised he took it up with you.

[She swallows the lump rising in her throat again. What now? It's not as simple as just finding a way to drive out a demon with timelier preparation anymore. This isn't anything like Amalia's case. Both host and possessor are her friends, and it was never a matter of regaining control because the intent to take it away had never been there.]

I don't know what to say. Except- I don't think it's your fault, either. Whatever happened to you that day, I don't believe for a single moment either of you wanted it.

No. How could he? And I couldn't leave our friend hopping from one corpse to the next for eternity. [Though there'll be nothing stopping him once Anders bites it. But that isn't something he really wants to think about on top of everything else, and from the uncomfortable prick in the back of his mind, he'd wager Justice doesn't like the idea, either.

Anders knew about their talks. He knew then, and he rolled his eyes. Just as he rolled his eyes when Justice insisted he take up arms.

If only he'd continued to be selfish.]

It doesn't matter what we wanted. This thing that we are now... should not exist. [It hurts him to admit it, and the strain of it is clear in his voice. Truly, Anders loves Justice, and believes in his quest, but that makes it so much worse rather than better. It's his fault the spirit has become so confused. If Justice can't do right, who can?]

I'm sorry to bring you this news. I wish I could tell you your friends are happy and safe.

[She'd had some hope when she didn't see him. That maybe the Veil had weakened just enough, just long enough, during the battle... But no. He had probably already attempted to follow Anders, or perhaps gone to Nathaniel, or had gotten lost somewhere else trying to find a host body that wasn't crushed or otherwise unusable...

...But that was in the past, and as much as she might kick herself for not being able to help, here's her friend, here's two of her friends, essentially, and what he's saying...

She lets out a soft huff that might have been a protest but lost its power in sympathy. She gives him a pained smile.]

But you're alive. Alive, and still human. I'd been hoping for at least that much. It means that I can try to help you.

[Human. He almost laughs at the suggestion, just barely restrains himself, but can't prevent a bitter smile.]

Far be it from me to disappoint you more, but you can't help me. That isn't a stab at you, either, I'm just... too far beyond help. Every day is a struggle for control. Sometimes I can't even discern a friend from a foe, a mage from a templar. [His face falls again, and for a moment he almost scowls down into his lap. Even if he and Justice could be separated, even if they wanted to be, it wouldn't change the things they've done together.]

You should focus your efforts on people who can still be saved. Who want to be.

[The sympathy in her voice doesn't leave, but there's something solid beneath it, a firm tone of unwavering resolve.]

Anders. [She gestures back at the books behind her.]

My research here? To prevent our Warden's taint from progressing. Easier separation of a demon and its victim. Do you think "you can't" means anything to me anymore? It's been implied in everything Wardens and mages have said and done for ages on end.

And anyway... [The pain in her smile fades into something warmer, tension leaving the edges of her mouth.]

You're my friend. Some things don't quite match up between us, but you are still the Anders I knew. With the Justice I knew. I won't let go that easily.

[Anders has to wonder how long this Amell has been here, or at least had access to it. That is an impressive library, and a noble cause for it. Of course he would love to see an end to the threat of the taint, and countless lives would certainly be saved if possession wasn't so permanent, but he still can't quite admire her perseverance. Perhaps if it was directed into someone specific that wasn't a lost cause, it would be a different story.

As it stands, regardless of how alike he was to the Anders she speaks of, one thing is certain.]

You're wrong. We've both changed, and neither for the better.

And that's why abandoning you would make me a terrible friend. It would be a different matter if you had killed those people of your own volition. But neither of you deliberately chose this!

[She shakes her head, slowly, opens her mouth to continue a few times, though nothing comes out. Tears threaten to fall again, but this time she manages to blink them back. The initial possession had been sooner for Katherine than Anders, and she'd had a recent reminder of him, at that, in her search for Morrigan. A child's doodle in the back of a book, an expression of pain she didn't understand and quickly forgot in her earlier years, but saw with awful clarity now. He had hurt so much back then, and hearing him hurting still, worse so, now...

She finally finds her voice in the past, saying something she'd told him once before. Something she hoped this Robyn would have said, too:]

Friends stick up for each other. You can't expect me to turn my back on you.

Edited (streamlining dialogue) 2016-12-08 02:34 (UTC)

[Again being the cause of great upset is sobering enough to take the fight out of him, just as her words threaten to take his breath. Hearing that, in that voice, again, is almost enough to break him down, too. Of course he's missed Robyn -- assuming he isn't completely out of his mind and she does actually exist -- but all the lies he's told himself in Kirkwall about hating the Wardens have made him forget exactly how much.

He didn't understand then why she thought he deserved her friendship, and he certainly doesn't understand why Katherine, of whom he has no memories, does. But nonetheless, he's moved, and grateful.]

No... I suppose I can't.

I'm sorry for being so difficult. [It goes without saying that he's afraid; she's clever enough to see that. He almost wishes she knew exactly why, but at the same time, he doesn't want to tell her, at least not yet. Who knows the limits of her loyalty? He isn't someone he would continue to support in her position.]

Where are you going from here, then? Do you have any sort of plan on how to go about this?

[She shakes her head at the apology.] It's all right. I understand.

[Pain can make a person difficult. It made her difficult for several days after being conscripted into the Wardens. She's already forgiven him a great deal, considering the mess he left behind. Why should she stop here just because he's under stress? Anyone in his situation would be.

When he asks his question, then, she regards the device with tired eyes that nonetheless still hold the warmth of sympathy that had crept into her smile before. All of these plans, a foundation of her one success in this field. And nothing was as it seemed. It's scarcely related to the project in question at all.]

I don't know. It's not what I thought it was. The only time I've seen a possession end without death, the demon was banished from within the Fade. But Justice isn't linked to the Fade in the first place. And it was voluntary. That-...it changes a lot. It changes everything. Where I go, well, that depends on the two of you. I've-

[done quite enough trampling on others' say in their own bodies. Like she could say that. It hurts to even involuntarily admit it to herself in such plain words. When she finishes her sentence, some of the vitality has been drained from it; there is a strain to it, rooted deep, but quiet.]

...no intention of ignoring your wishes. Either of you. I want to know what you have to say first. I know that you don't like the way things are right now. Who would? But what would be your ideal solution to all of this? What do you want it to be?

Edited 2016-12-10 23:57 (UTC)

[That's an interesting comment, one he makes a note to bring up again later, perhaps at a less emotionally taxing time for the both of them. Even now, Anders has to breathe deeply and gather his thoughts in order to be coherent.

The past few days have not been easy.]

I appreciate your consideration. But... I can't say that I know exactly what I want. [For a moment, he falls silent again, worrying his lip as he frowns at some imaginary point offscreen.] I suppose the ideal would be to find a way to... blend better. I don't know that I want to be separated, but we can't go on at each others' throats like we have been.

That isn't really what you're looking for, though, is it?

It's-...something.

[She takes a deep breath of her own. The camera tilts ever so slightly as her hand relaxes a little. It feels as if, perhaps, the storm is waning. Thunder whines softly somewhere below the camera; he must have his head in her lap.

Katherine bows her head for a moment in thought, trying to quiet her mind. She doesn't entirely succeed, but when she looks up again, there's a steadiness there, under pressure but holding.]

I don't- I don't want one of you to disappear, or um- but...

Maybe there's a way to give Justice greater control over himself and when he takes control of you, somehow, or to prevent him from taking control without your say, or- or something like that.

[They're not even theories yet, not solid enough. Just ideas, thoughts to start from, snatched from an emotionally-wrung mind as they floated to the surface.

But she seems to gain a little more strength. There's some direction now, even if it's towards an entirely new purpose instead of the original assumption. Even if the practical uses for other mages are limited. And it's better than she'd feared. Not only does Anders retain control, his possessor (cohabitor?) may be perfectly willing to cooperate.]

I'll try. We can try. [Having said it, some more peace is brought to her, and tension fades at the edges of her mouth again, her strained smile reappearing. There's something relieved about it.] We can try.

That seems a good enough place to start.

[He shifts a bit behind the camera, more self conscious about talking like this openly by the moment. This feels a secluded enough hovel, but it is a strange city he doesn't actually understand at all. For all he knows, there could be eyes and ears in the very walls.]

Perhaps we can arrange to meet somewhere to discuss it further? [After a pause, his brow wrinkles with concern.] In a few days' time, if possible. I don't believe I'd be good company right now.

Of course. I can't say much better of myself. It's...not what I expected.

[She sounds as worn out as she feels, that hollow feeling after emotions have run high. But even so, in this winding-down, she can process it. He's here. He's alive. Her friend is alive. Though he looks a little bit older than she remembers, but whether that's time or experience she doesn't know. Regardless, the strain in her smile is fading even if not from her voice, lifted by relief.]

But I'm glad it's happened. I'm glad you're here. When we meet, I...perhaps a tour of the parts of the city I've seen? Unless you already have a place you would prefer.

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