Alistair Theirin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nobroth) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2018-12-27 06:41 pm
nobroth) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2018-12-27 06:41 pm
One | Fate Emptied of Hope
WHO: Alistair Theirin
WHERE: Fountain Square/Inn
WHEN: Dec 27, Evening
OPEN TO: One at the fountain (Claimed by Zev), OTA at the Inn, per usual.
WARNINGS: None - will edit if any occur.
WHERE: Fountain Square/Inn
WHEN: Dec 27, Evening
OPEN TO: One at the fountain (Claimed by Zev), OTA at the Inn, per usual.
WARNINGS: None - will edit if any occur.
'Cross Veil and into the valley of dreams:
"Very funny," came the voice from near the fountain. Dripping wet and cold, Alistair looked challengingly up at the sky, arms held out to either side. "But I don't know how you thought I'd fall for this! This isn't Redcliffe," he called. "And it's definitely not Denerim or Kirkwall or Wycome. It's not any of those tiny towns in Orlais. I've never seen this place before, so it's not my memory, cheater!"
Bending down, he picked up the first thing he saw - oh, a rock, that'll help - and threw it upward, not really noticing where it went. He heard it fall on the ground somewhere, but that was neither here nor there. It was proof he'd thrown it the wrong way, if anything.
"I don't trust you, Nightmare!" More agitated, he started to look for another rock. Another anything. "Or is this some Despair Demon's work? Encroaching on your territory now that you lost the Inquisitor? Well tough luck to you both - I'm not afraid anymore, and there's nothing left for me to Despair over. I might be the Maker's own idiot, but I'm not going to trust this illusion!"
Where had his sword gone. His shield, his armour. Which direction was the damned Nightmare?! He couldn't fight the damned thing if he couldn't see it, and he couldn't see it. Anywhere. Whatever Demon it was fueling this illusion, it was better than any he'd fought through yet, and he didn't want to think about what that meant.
In ignorance stumbling:
There was a good fire burning, and that was nice. Really, the place was nicer than roughly every other inn he'd ever seen, including the Hanged Man -- Well, honestly, it far surpassed the Hanged Man, the Pearl, definitely the Spoiled Princess. Places with names he couldn't remember because all he'd been concerned about was finding the bottom of his mug and then having another.
No such luck here, not that he minded. He'd had years to leave that particular vice behind, not that it had been a kind one while he'd had it. But at least now he was warm, dry, and, though confused, knew a few things for certain: There was food, there was shelter, and there was a chance - at least something of a chance - that this wasn't the Fade.
As he stood by the fire, pleasantly toasting himself, he realised he had a lot to think about. And that thought made his head hurt. Nose wrinkled, Alistair rubbed at his temples, muttering a quiet, "Ow."
no subject
"They're seeking power. More than anything else, every last member of the magisterium. They want to take back all of Thedas. Needless to say, all of Thedas doesn't really want them because they're quite happy ruling themselves.
"And they've been stealing people for slaves, and they've been killing people, undermining people, meddling in wars to try to benefit themselves..." Alistair exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But then there are people like Dorian and I... don't know. I feel like it's not hopeless if there are people like him there - he's a good person. So, really, I should apologise for relating them to you."
no subject
Gaius could understand that, and he spoke with feeling, from his own experience. Not on the scale that Alistair was suggesting; in his time, Rome had the ambitions to expand across the mare internum, but was not yet the ruler of the entire sea as he'd learned it would be. He could hear the parallels starting to line themselves up between Rome and Tevinter.
He loved his city, but he still loathed the Senate for what they'd done to him, to his brother, to the people they were supposed to be caring for.
"There are people in Rome who seek power above all else, no matter who they hurt. You may not have been so wrong."
no subject
But then he shrugged. "Easier said than done, I know. But... Probably worth it, right?"
He hoped so, at least. Someone still needed to change the Wardens. He certainly wouldn't be able to, and he had a feeling that Sereda wouldn't want to. The way they were structured now--
No. No, he was not going to think about that.
no subject
There was wistfulness in his voice as he said it; he didn't often speak of who and what he'd been in Rome, and less about what he'd tried to do with who he was. It could have been easy, for him and Tiberius. If they'd kept their legislative proposals safe and uncontroversial, neither of them would have met the difficulties they had. Tiberius might still be alive, and Gaius would not have been under pain of death if he ever returned to Rome.
"I thought it would be worth it, but I believe much of what I did will be undone."
He was sure of it. It had been Opimius' aim as consul to revoke his legislation and reassert the Senate's grip on that he had managed to slightly loosen. That had been the start of the violence that had killed Antyllus and led to the standoff on the Aventine that had been his last day in Rome.
no subject
He shrugged, then reached over to pat the man's arm. "I mean, not that the whole idea isn't kind of moot as long as we're here. But it doesn't mean you can't still do it when and if you go back."
Just because he wouldn't get the chance didn't mean no one else would.