Video

[killedwithlove]

Who: Cole
Broadcast: Fleetwide
Action: Pathstone unless asked to go somewhere
When: Now-ish?


[The broadcast is very unusual, coming from Cole. He replies, sometimes, but he very rarely initiates communication through the network.

The camera points at the ceiling, catching just the edge of Cole's hat. He has it in his lap but doesn't try to look into it.]

I need someone who is able to kill me if I turn into a demon. Cassandra promised to, but she's gone and Jove and Solas said they would, but with them gone, I need someone to make sure I'm not a danger to people.

Comments

[theirinurpants]

You're a spirit? Of course you are.

And that body is - who's, again?

[killedwithlove]

Mine! It's entirely mine, I don't live in anyone else!

This is my... naturally formed manifestation.

[And yeah, he's clearly heard that phrase from someone.]

I'm Cole, but I was Compassion before Cole.

[theirinurpants]

[ Alistair needs a moment to take all that in. A spirit of Compassion, that isn't possessing a body. Okay. Okay, sure. ]

Cole. I'm Alistair.

[ Because that's just good manners, right? ]

I, uh, I trained as a templar. I can - you know. If it needs to happen.

[killedwithlove]

[Silence follows for a while.]

But you're not now?

[theirinurpants]

No. I was recruited into the Grey Wardens before I took my vows. I liked that a lot better. But the skills come in handy, sometimes.

[killedwithlove]

Even if the blood is given willingly, it's not the solution. The darkness cannot drown in blood.

[He makes a small, low sound and finally appears in the camera, pale and dirty and haggard. So normal for him.]

When are you from?

[theirinurpants]

Er... right.

[ Even Alistair is sometimes surprised at how normal that question seems, these days. ]

It was 9:31 Dragon, last I checked. Don't tell me: you're from the future.

[killedwithlove]

... I don't know dates and years. I know events. Which ones I lived and which I just know.

Before, during or after the Fifth Blight?

[theirinurpants]

Oh, right.

It was just after the end of the Blight.

[killedwithlove]

Oh.

... Like Riona?

[theirinurpants]

Um, yes. Though - I didn't know her back home.

[killedwithlove]

It's okay, lots of us come from parallel existences, different choices, different faces...

It's all recorded in the keep.

I knew of you, but we never met.

[theirinurpants]

[ "Keep"? What in the Maker's name is this fellow on about? Oh, well. ]

That's probably for the best. At least I didn't have the chance to make a bad impression on you.

[killedwithlove]

[Don't mind the fourth wall there.]

Your letters were always full of fondness from your scribe for you. That was nice.

[theirinurpants]

Um - oh! So, they don't all hate me, is what you're saying?

[killedwithlove]

They like you. They tease, because they're fond and comfortable.

[theirinurpants]

Oh, well... I guess that's a lot better than I was... afraid it would be.

Possibly the best thing I've heard about my future in a long time. Thanks, Cole.

[killedwithlove]

You are respected and liked. You care about your people. And people know that. You're a good king, Alistair.

[theirinurpants]

[ What are these feelings? Alistair isn't even sure. Normally he'd prevaricate, pretend to disbelief - but the man seems so certain. Somehow, Alistair believes him. As strange as the idea is, that he might actually manage to be a good king, he at least believes that Cole believes it. ]

Thank you. For... telling me.

And, uh. The offer of help still stands. Not that I think you'll ever need it.

[killedwithlove]

Thank you, Alistair.