backwaterbelle | OPEN POST

[Head injuries were never a joy to wake up from, and she would know, X-Men such as herself were quite the experts at all manners of injury. Time and dimensional shenanigans weren't strangers either, but again, it's quite a heavy load to take on while rousing out of that thick, throbbing haze that clouds her vision so spectacularly.

And still, the fire's too bright, suffocating in its usually pleasant smell, and she groans while wincing away from it, staggering a hand to her face to shade herself from the penetrating waves. Nothing she sensed feels familiar, and that alone alarms her enough to push through the pain. Her other hand goes to whatever hard surface she can brace against, trying to upright her enough so she can gather her surroundings.

Unless whoever's given her kindness has cleaned her up, the woman likely looks worse than she feels. She vaguely remembers violence and getting her ass kicked, but who knows when that happened honestly. That too happens with unfortunate frequency all things considered.]

[It's been a little over a day now since they'd found the woman with the strange hair. Just in time too, as if she'd fallen through the rift with the demons. The Inquisitor had seen enough rifts to know that people didn't just turn up beside them. There were a lot of questions surrounding the woman. Who was she? Was she a spirit? A demon? Like Cole. A spirit who had decided to become flesh and blood. Or maybe she was a witch or some kind of apostate.

They'd received no answers yet. None of the mages could tell them anything about her. Not even Cole could say what or who she was.

So, she'd been sleeping off the ordeal in one of the nicer rooms, designed to be used as a holding cell for nobility waiting to be judged. It was nice, comfortable, warm... and there was a strong lock on the door and magical barriers surrounding it.

Very few people knew she was there. One healer and the Inquisitions inner circle. Word that they were potentially keeping a demon locked up at Skyhold didn't need to get out to the masses who called the fortress home.]

Ah. Awake at last. [The man speaks quietly, tone lacking accusation or suspicion. Better yet, he's brought some soup with him.] How's your head? Should I fetch a healer?

[That he seems to be giving her bed a wide berth was telling enough. His tone and guarded smile hid cautious curiosity and apprehension. He also hadn't left his sword outside either.]

[Well she had spirit, and has been called worse than a demon. However, she's neither of those things, and while some consider her worse, an abomination even, the mutant would simply like the room to stop assaulting her with gravity and this very proper man to stop his yelling.]

Hush it Thor or ah'ma shove that hammer where the sun ain't ever thought to shine.

[Her accent, a bramble of words on the best, most enunciated of days, had turned into a thicket of honey and sandpaper, running together while grating against itself all the same.

A quick assessment of blinking does little to confirm or deny her assumption of rescuing parties that spoke like ye olde English did back in the plague days. She takes several long, steadying breaths to try and gather herself to the present, brow furrowing as the room pitched violently around her.

Still, she fights herself upright with her eyes focusing towards the voice.

That's not Thor. This isn't the Avengers anywhere. Her blood runs cold and her green eyes flare as adrenaline kicks into gear.]

Who are you? [She growls softly, having enough sense not to yell at least. It would hurt too much.] Where the hell am I?

[Her eyes dart to the door, keying in on the lock with a slight narrowing of her eyes before they're brought to him once more. Explanations would be nice.]

Edited 2016-05-03 05:19 (UTC)

Making a swift recovery then, I see. [His teasing is subtle, dry amusement that might be easily missed given her current state. At least he doesn't seem put off or even surprised by her suspicion and hostility. In fact, he takes it all in stride. In his opinion, the reaction is a normal one. A human one.

He was especially fond of being told to be quiet and then asked questions, nearly in the same breath.]

Not Thor, no. Sorry. My name's Cullen. [He corrects, but files the name away to look into later. it sounded vaguely Avvar.]

You were found unconscious in the Hinterlands and brought here, to Skyhold fortress. You have the Inquisition to thank for your life. If we'd been any later you would've surely been torn apart by demons.

[He approaches, setting the steaming cup of broth down on her bedside table as he pulls up a chair to take a seat next to her bed. Less imposing and looming that way.] So, how are you feeling?

Edited 2016-05-03 23:45 (UTC)

[She has half a mind to tell him to shut up again, but regardless of whether she realizes her contradicting statements, Rogue simply bites her tongue and continues to stare at him. This would likely be more intimidating if her eyes wouldn't squint on occasion as she tries to focus through the cloudy pain racking her head.]

Cullen, [she repeats quietly, finding zero familiarity in the name as well and moving to shake her head, before abruptly stopping with a wince and a gathering of balance again. Her brow continues to furrow as he explains what had happened to her, and as far as she can tell, he isn't lying.

Mentions of the Inquisition rolls an uneasiness through her that's not associated with her injuries. He doesn't seem to have a Spanish accent, but that doesn't lower her guard.] Who are the Inquisition? What do they do?

[While she hopes mutants aren't the hunted in this scenario, Rogue's preparing herself for the worst, and lucky for said mutant, her gloves are literally off. Still, her eyes follow his movements, falling on the comforting smells of the cup he carried.

His question draws a rough laugh from the back of her throat.]

Probably worse than ah look ah reckon'.

[Indeed, he doesn't even realize she's attempting to be intimidating.] That's right. Cullen.

May I help you sit up? [He makes the offer without moving any closer, still sat back in his chair idly observing her. He wasn't exactly sure how unwell she might be feeling. At least, she hadn't needed to make use of the bucket on the floor beside the bed yet.]

The Inquisition? We're a group of mainly volunteers attempting to restore peace. Our main focus has been helping the refugees displaced by the fighting and... the rifts. You were found by one of those rifts.

[He quiets, observing her once again. If she was a demon, she was very convincingly acting like she was in pain. So much so, that he's close to ruling that possibility out. The fact that she hasn't heard of the Inquisition is odd, but nod completely unlikely.]

[One of the last things she wants to do is have anyone help her, to look weak in front of someone that may still be her enemy. Though, that option is appearing less and less logical as time continues, which causes her to hesitate in her stubbornness. She really doesn't want cause to use that bucket, so despite it going against every fiber of her being, Rogue nods ever so slightly in answer to his question.

She listens to him closely as he explains the Inquisition, allowing him to aid her in sitting as she tries to read between the lines of his words, to see if anything he says sounds anti-mutant in the slightest. There's comfort in this, at least, and Rogue focuses on that bit of good news

Because rifts don't sound pleasant, and she exhales her eyes closed, trying to be rid of another bout of nausea as the pieces fell together. When she opens them, she's searching his eyes.] Ah don't suppose 'Earth' sounds familiar to you?

[Far from weak, the woman is an anomaly and a potential threat. What she'd been doing near the rift was still a mystery and her clothing was even more of one, but Cullen was trying to give her some time to get her bearings before demanding any answers.

He gives her an odd look at her question.]

Earth? What would you want earth for? [Of course, he assumes she's talking about soil, dirt. There was earth all around them.] Perhaps you should lie back down. I hadn't meant to rush you. I can call for one of the healers, if you'd like.

Well that answers that. [She half mumbles to herself, face having fallen at the realization that wherever she's landed, it's not Kansas or even an alternate version of her own universe.]

Ah don't want ah healer. [Truth be told she certainly could use one given her condition, but she's stubborn and now she's even more frustrated.]

We're from different worlds ah think.

[Well this just keeps getting worse.]

[He simply raises an eyebrow, but doesn't push for an answer. The woman wasn't making much sense, but then again they had found her unconscious by a rift, there was no telling what she'd endured before his scouts had found her. Certainly, a bump to the head wasn't out of the realm of possibilities.]

Different worlds? Do you remember where you were before the rift opened? [Could she have been part of a ritual to open the rift and not a local at all? An unwitting sacrifice? Perhaps her last memories were of a land far from Ferelden.]

[A bump to the head is probably the best way to explain her audible conclusion considering how he’s looking at her like she’s crazy. Rogue would have no idea how to explain multiple dimensions to someone who likely doesn’t even know about astronomy beyond folklore and myth of celestial objects. Her hand goes to her head and she groans in frustration, though it could be taken as pain.]

Ah was in a fight... Tryin’ to protect my friends. [The scenario she was yanked unceremoniously from to end up here was much more complex than that, but she had neither the patience or the energy to explain it all to him.

She peeks through her fingers as a thought hits her.] Did you find anyone else in similarly weird fashion?

[He gives her a sympathetic look before shaking his head.] I'm sorry, we didn't. It was only you.

I'll arrange to have a search party sent out. It is entirely possible that they didn't see you'd fallen or were forced to flee when the demons overwhelmed them. [Of course, he didn't know her friends could shoot laser beams out of their eyes. He remained hopeful, for her sake.]

And... if they are dressed, uh... [he clears his throat, a slight blush coloring his cheeks]- ah... similarly to yourself, they shouldn't be all too difficult to spot.

Uh... out of curiosity, who were you fighting? As far as I know, no bodies were found.

[Any hope that she held out blew into the wind like the puffs on a dandelion, dispersing delicately away. She nods, pleased to not feel the room spin around as quickly or violently as earlier from the motion. The feeling returns as he mentions sending out a search party, her head shaking against the idea.]

Put wanted posters out for me. If they're here and see that, they'll come.

[They can handle themselves, as well as any search party that might get spooked at their powers or strange looks. He had mentioned demons, and Rogue isn't about to let them find people who could easily fit that description from the perspective of such people.]

Well they ain't wearin' so much green, but they'll stand out. [The blush puzzles her for a moment before it clicks and she glances down to her uniform to see if it was split open. When it wasn't she lifts an eyebrow at him even as he asks her another question, her gaze shifting down to her lap and to her hands.

Who had she been fighting? The memories come in flashes, and she can't distinguish one memory from another.]

Can't remember.

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