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(no subject)

Who: Cole
Broadcast: No
Action: EVERY SHIP EXCEPT THE MARSIVA
When: The first half of the month

[See, the problem is, now Cole's augment is a pilot one.

He's lost the room he wasn't aware as his, but he's gained a whole new lot of knowledge. Such as how to move the ship, how to dock it to other ships and that makes his constant wandering from ship to ship much easier.

And it means he can park the Pathstone with the Three Twins and Tourist without ever going on board either of them. He can bring the Pathstone to them, and still give Fenris his safe space and people form those ships and visit the Pathstone without having to take a shuttle!

So, Cole's doing his rounds again. Visiting. Parking. Shoving the Pathstone wherever he feels like going.]

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[He doesn't think to go tell Cole what's happened to Elize--the boy, spirit, whatever he is, tends to come and go often enough that Cullen is sure it's only a matter of time before he sees for himself.

He'll find Cullen sitting next to Elize's bed, a book sitting nearby, but it's not proving to be a very good distraction.]

[Cullen's pain draws him.

He comes in silently, drifting to Cullen's side and looking down at her. She's not dead, he can feel her there, but it's not like she's all there.]

Will she wake up? Does she need a prince's kiss?

She'll wake up. [He can't think about the alternative. He has to believe this is like with Varric. He spares Cole a glance, shifting slightly.]

Time is what she needs. [Too young for princes and kisses and being in slumbers like this.]

[When he shows up on the bridge, Mal doesn't blink. She remembers the last time they spoke, in the dark of the too-alive forest, and how he shamed her without meaning to, how small she felt in the face of his honesty.]

[She doesn't hate him, though. Admires him a bit, maybe, for that honesty. So she smiles at him and beckons him over.]

All right.

[He chooses to believe Cullen. He comes and sits next to Cullen, on the floor and hugs his knees to his chest, looking up at the bed.]

Solas left. I don't want Elize to leave as well.

[He comes over, canting his head and placing the feel of her, that he knows her, she matters to Cassandra, echoes of Cassandra touching her.]

You feel better now than then. Hello.

She won't. This is something else.

[He looks over at Cole again.]

I'm sorry about Solas. I'm certain he wouldn't have gone if he had the choice.

[On the Wonderduck, Daneel is sitting, just sitting, in a quiet corner where he will disturb no one. His mind is open, and he's listening to the emotions of his crewmates. Unobtrusively, of course. He does not dig, he does not tamper, but he listens. There's a comfort in it, of a sense. He knows they're well, and he feels something akin to responsibility.

Because, after all, he's a robot and they've been placed (sort of) in his care.]

Yes. He might have.

[It's not an accusation, just a fact. Solas had left once, he may well have chosen to do so again, to go back to Thedas. He doesn't know. But he doesn't think Solas chose to leave.

That isn't to say he wouldn't have.]

How do you mean? [He asks, mostly just for conversation.]

When are you from? What happened to your Inquisition?

[Cole wanders in, saying nothing but his senses already telling him confusing things.

Compassion. Not a spirit. But Compassion nonetheless.

He comes over and sits down nearby, hugging his knees to his chest and watching Daneel silently.]

[Daneel lifts his head, looking at Cole with some curiosity before he speaks.]

I admit I am not certain why you are on this ship.

I'm visiting!

[Clearly.]

So I see. I did not expect it. I am Daneel Olivaw. How shall I address you?

[Ah. This again.]

We're still facing Corypheus.

[Cole nods. People comes from all different times and he has trouble sorting it out. What will be and has been, it tangles, even on this side of the Veil.]

We had destroyed him. When I came from. Cadash wanted to get drunk and urinate on the area.

Cole. I'm called Cole now.

You're a Compassion. But... not. Quieter. Click-click.

I seem to be behind, then. Cassandra is also from a similar... time, as yours.

[Being the cook of the Vanquish - and, admittedly, being kind of fascinated with his sudden Matrix-style knowledge dump of the handling of formed and flavored protein - Eugene's been distracting himself by experimenting with the food staples available to them in an effort to make something resembling actual appealing meals. The nature of the beast makes that a tricky thing, and he's already pining for the resources to upgrade them into range of an actual spice rack, but for now he's making progress.

Today he thinks he's figured out something that's basically croquettes, which are currently sizzing in a carefully thin layer of vegetable oil on the range. He's left them to brown while he rests his leg, seated at the galley table and jotting down recipe notes.]

So was Solas.

[It had been their secret from Jove, what Solas would do in her world.]

Jove isn't. And Dorian's from Jove's world. Anders hasn't become Vengeance at all.

And I'm apparently different from the Cullen in Jove's world. It's a big mess, all of our timelines and universes.

It's complicated, tangled and knots and pulls and frays in strange ways.

[He reaches up and touches a fingertip to the bed, near Elize's hand.]

You and Elize should live on the Pathstone. It would make Jove happy.

[As is so often the case, Cole doesn't warn that he's come in, or that he's there at all, he just glides up quietly and then-]

The dead should stay still. But they don't always in Thedas, either.

[Thankfully, the voice catching his attention is what blunts Eugene's startle down to not much more than an instinctive jolt. Irritation follows on fear's heels, and his face twists into a what the hell kind of expression as he shifts in his seat and settles his crutch to rest against his truncated left thigh.

It's kind of an intimate detail to start a conversation with. Some weird attempt at sympathy, maybe? Eugene realizes he hasn't exactly made his circumstances back home a secret. And that second half, that hook - it works.]

Is that so. [He cants his head, corner of his mouth curling mirthlessly.] Hopefully they're at least not trying to chew you apart, there.

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