here lies the abyss; open;

[revocation]

Who| Cullen and YOU
What| After a truly horrific death in the arena, Cullen wakes up back in the Capitol. Time to regain his bearings and find his allies again!
Where| Around~ (Let me know if you want a specific prompt and I'll write one up!)
When| After his death, probably Wednesday or Thursday
Warnings/Notes| Descriptions of nasty psychological torture probably.

[District 2 suite]

He wakes with a start, ready for battle. That had been the last thing he remembers doing, after all. A monster, or demon, some sort of creature that had taken Adella's likeness and twisted it into something corrupted and horrific had appeared. His rage and grief had overcome him at the sight of the terrible thing, like his worst fear made diseased flesh, and he'd attacked, as unprepared for it as he was.

The thing had ripped into him viciously, and he remembers nothing more until - this.

The room is white and pristine and too, too bright, and he's groping for a sword that isn't there for a few moments until he recalls where he must be. The Capitol. One dies in the arena, and wakes up in the Capitol. Or so he's been told.

That brings him to his senses. He needs to find the others, if they're here as promised. He needs to find Adella. Maker, if she's here, if she's alive, he'll build a shrine to Andraste with his own two hands.

With a determined set to his mouth, his jaw, strides through the district suite, towards the elevator. He does remember how these work, thanks to Ser Sam Wilson's guidance, all those weeks ago.

[Tribute Tower common area]

He very quickly realizes that he has no real idea where to find many of his companions and allies. Many of them arrived in the arena itself, and so he doesn't know which district they are assigned to, and even if he did, the chances of finding them in their respective suites he thinks are low. Eventually, he makes his way to the main common area on the ground floor. It sees a lot of traffic, it's a natural place to congregate and wait for one's companions. He hopes.

And he tries to avoid looking at the brightly flashing screens everywhere. Maker, does he try.

[The roof]

As evening settles over the city, Cullen finds his way to the quiet and (relative) darkness of the rooftop garden. Even this place is utterly alien to him in a lot of ways, but it's slightly easier to stomach than most of the rest of the building or the city beyond. There is so much light from the city that it's almost impossible to get a good look at the stars, something which Cullen finds baffling, but he attempts it anyway, taking deep, calming breaths as he turns his face up.

Comments

[revocation]

He is just as reluctant to stop touching her - another good argument for his room, frankly. There, he can hold her as close as he likes. If someone spies on them via some magical device, well, that can't be helped.

But he needs to hold her, so he leads the way.

[unlikelyherald]

She follows without further comment, not sparing a glance for any other tenants of the District 2 suites. As soon as the door to Cullen's room is closed behind them and they're alone she turns back to him, her hands framing his face as she pulls him to her level and kisses him. It isn't a kiss of unbridled passion so much as one of desperation and relief. Watching him fall and being so removed from the situation but still experiencing it, had effected her deeply.

[revocation]

The kiss is just as desperate on Cullen's end - he now knows what it feels like to lose her, and he didn't like it, one bit. Frankly, they had been some of the worst days of his life, and he'd give just about anything not to ever have to do that again - as much as he knows he probably will, many times, before this whole ordeal is over.

"Stay with me," he hears himself murmur when they finally have to break apart for air, his fingers tangling in her hair.

[unlikelyherald]

She lets out a breathless laugh, her hands still pressed firmly against his cheeks as she leans her forehead against his.

"They'd need armed guards to drag me away from you." She may be relatively slight of figure when it boiled down to it, but she'd die again before letting anything keep them apart. He'd become far too important to her for her to let him slip through her fingers.

[revocation]

They do, in fact, have armed guards aplenty here. But he suspects they won't be separated by force. Not right now, at least. His arms pull her tight against him, nonetheless.

"Have you seen the others?" he asks quietly. "Are they alright?"

[unlikelyherald]

Letting her hands go slack she curls up against him as he pulls her close, leaning her head against his chest and closing her eyes. She can almost feel a measure of peace as she hears his heartbeat where she's leaned her head, steady and strong in his chest.

"Most of them," she responds after a moment, one hand sliding to rest on his bicep, a small gesture to keep her grip on him. "Josephine is gone, as is the Lavellan woman you mentioned. Back to Thedas, I hope."

[revocation]

"I hope," he murmurs, saddened to hear about Josephine in particular. The elvish woman, he'd only met once, but Josephine - she didn't deserve any of this.

He tugs her gently to the bed, just needing to hold her close and forget about this awful place for a time. To remind himself that she, at least, is real, and good, and that she loves him.

[unlikelyherald]

She lets him lead her to the bed, in any other circumstance she'd be making a joke right about now, but in this particular circumstance, she isn't feeling quite up to it. Settling down on the mattress next to him she presses as close to him as she can, wanting to absorb as much contact with him as possible.

"I'm starting to miss Corypheus. He seems like a simple problem, compared to all this."

[revocation]

"I know the feeling," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "At least Corypheus operated on a set of rules we could somewhat understand." This is just so far beyond him, all of it.

"I love you. We'll... figure this out, somehow." He has to believe they can, anyway.

[unlikelyherald]

She sighs, tilting her head back so she can gaze up at him, a soft frown settling on her face.

"I suppose so. We have each other now, at least." Which was a lot, where she was sitting. She hadn't slept well since waking up in this place, despite the luxurious beds and misguided suggestions from the style team. It had everything to do with her concern for him. Her world had gotten surprisingly narrow, and it alarms her, how much he means. "I've been making myself sick worrying about you," she admits, after a moment of silence.

[revocation]

"Adella," he says, pulling back enough to look at her with a frown furrowing his features. "I'm probably the worst person to say this, but you shouldn't do that on my account."

[unlikelyherald]

Letting out a laugh she pulls herself up to press a light kiss to his lips.

"You're right, you are the worst person to say that."

[revocation]

Alright, it's true. And her kisses can do nothing but lighten his mood. "Still, though," he murmurs. "Making yourself sick won't help anything."

[unlikelyherald]

"I know that," she replies, leaning down to settle against him again, tucking her head next to his.

"I couldn't help it. The screens broadcasting what's happening while you're still in there... They're everywhere. Even if they weren't, I couldn't do anything to help you."

[revocation]

It's so easy to just hold her close and try to forget everything outside the door. If only for a few moments.

"They do tend to drive one batty after a while," he murmurs. "They give me terrible headaches if I stare at them too long."

[unlikelyherald]

"They make my eyes hurt," Adella agrees, one hand sliding up to gently trace her fingers over his cheek, her arm draped across his chest.

"Being alone in my room was almost worse, though. I could have missed the moment something terrible happened." She hasn't relaxed much, or slept more than a few hours at a time, for that matter.

[revocation]

"You shouldn't watch," he murmurs earnestly. "There's no point, it's just upsetting."

[unlikelyherald]

"That would have been worse," she replies quietly, squeezing her eyes closed. In different circumstances, you don't get to sit and watch the people you love die, of course, but you also aren't surrounded by those who have been following your story and want to talk with you about every detail.

"I knew what was happening, at least. I could see you were okay." Until he wasn't, of course.

[revocation]

He never wants her to worry on his account, but he knows it's not possible. He knows, because he loves her desperately and worries just as much about her. If the situations were reversed, would he have been able to avoid watching? Somehow, he doubts it.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, because he is. He wishes she weren't here to see this.

[unlikelyherald]

"So am I," she replies, letting out a quiet sigh before tilting her head to press a kiss to his jaw. She'd made a mistake in the Arena, it had cost her her life, and she regretted it. She regretted putting him through that more. The ache in her chest when she'd seen the footage of him directly following her death had been greater than the mortal wounds she'd had.

"I hate this place."

[revocation]

"So do I," he whispers, sighing. There were a lot of things wrong in Thedas, but he hasn't felt so trapped, so powerless, in a very long time. He'd hoped never to feel so again, and yet, here he is.

And worse still, here she is.

His arms tighten around her, as if he might be able to protect her from this place if he just holds her close enough.

[unlikelyherald]

"I don't think I'll ever understand what they think they're accomplishing here," she'd listened to what explanations were given to her, both sugary sweet ones and those more in touch with reality, none of it made sense. But she also found the idea of forcing people to kill one another for sheer amusement reprehensible on any level, so maybe she would always be biased.

[revocation]

"Neither will I," Cullen says, shaking his head. They have technology beyond imagination, they have the power of life and death. And they use it for what? Blood sports. Not to better themselves, not to fix the problems of their world, but to ignore them.

Cullen can't understand that.

[unlikelyherald]

She lets the topic drop at that, not really interested in discussing it further. She's quiet for several minutes, just content to feel his solid form pressed against her, the steady rise and fall of his chest under her arm reassuring her that he's here and okay. She feels more at peace now than she has since arriving in this Maker-forsaken place.

"Have you ever left the Tribute Center?" she asks after the stretch of silence, the thought bubbling up among all the others rolling around in her mind.

[revocation]

"I have," he says, more than happy for the change of topic. Even here, he's not sure they won't be overheard, and he doesn't want her getting into any trouble, or finding herself at risk in any way.

"Only a couple of times. It's - very loud. And busy."