Rosalind Lutece (wasandwasnot) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2016-05-30 19:58:00 |
|
|||
In the beginning it had been easier to dismiss the dreams as just that, dreams. They were odd and nothing more, the kind of thing that you joked about with friends over lunch and they could analyze what they thought it meant. Weird dreams in the past were often attributed to the fact that Rosalind was overworked and undersexed, both of which she could agree with but had done nothing to change the fact. She was happy with her life despite her so-called friends thinking otherwise. But here in the OC they were more than ‘just dreams’. They occurred more frequently and in such detail that Rosalind often felt as if she had travelled to another place and time when she awoke. And lately her dreams had left her compelled to do act upon them, researching physics of all things, something she had no interest in until recently. She sighed to herself before she took a small sip of her tea. She was never much of a tea drinker but today it was soothing, something caffeine free to calm her nerves. She glanced down at her phone for the time, and then looked up at the door. She was supposed to be meeting someone she had talked with over the network, someone that said he could explain things to her. She truly hoped he would have answers because Rosalind wasn’t sure just how many more sleepless nights she could have without going certifiably insane. Being from Seattle meant that Max held some sort of certifiable expertise in Coffeeology, in addition to his Psychology and Counseling degrees - so he knew the good spots in the OC by now, having done a lot of research after settling. Attending UCLA for his undergraduate degree also helped, and not a lot had changed since then... Well, in terms of the less personable business aspects. Everything had changed otherwise, within both the confines of his head and the chambers of his heart. He'd chosen this place because they served unique coffee drinks - lavender caramel latte, anyone? - but also had the best Thai tea. The one he ordered was hot, the 'dark' variety with no sugar, just milk, and he took it to the table to meet whom he assumed was his company for the afternoon. "Are you Rosalind?" he asked with a warm smile. "I'm Max, here to hopefully help you make sense of things." Hopefully. The Inquisitor would do his best - he didn't feel he was some special Herald, but he spent the better portion of his time asleep dreaming of navigating a tense political situation, and facing insurmountable odds with his companions by his side. He could handle this too. The sound of a voice saying her name forced Rosalind to look up. She smiled brightly at the man that had approached her table. “Yes, I am,” she said “It’s nice to meet you, Max..” She stood from her chair and extended her hand to him. “Thank you so much for meeting with me.” She shook his hand firmly, a habit she found that instilled confidence in the people she was speaking with. But then she had to remind herself that she wasn’t interviewing Max; instead, he was here to help her. She gestured to the empty chair at her table before she took her seat again. She sipped at her tea, the steam rising from her cup over her eyes. She let out a sigh, and put down the cup. “So, Max,” Rosalind started to say. She wasn’t one to beat around the bush, and perhaps the best way to deal with whatever news he was going give her was to get it over with. “What exactly is going on,” she asked with a shake of her head and a laugh. She was in good spirits at the very least, though she wasn’t sure how long that would last. Well, that was...a question. Max had to laugh a little, but it was a friendly sound - he wasn’t laughing at Rosalind, per se. “A very long story, but I’ll summarize as best I can. Just remember to keep an open mind,” he reminded, though he doubted that would be an issue. Rosalind seemed to be very inquisitive, thirsty for knowledge and answers - also intelligent, so she had to have developed some keen sense of bullshit detection by now. And none of what he was going to say was bullshit. “If you hold stock in the Multiverse Theory, we’re in a prime example of one,” he started, hands around his mug. “Meaning, one alternate universe out of how many other possibilities - infinite, I suppose. You could also look at it in terms of another version of ourselves, and presumably there are an infinite number of versions as well. What we ‘dream’ of - or what people on the network talk about when they reference the dreams - are memories of another life returning to us.” He’d get to the bleed-through effect in a moment, but first he paused because that was already a lot. There might have been a time when Rosalind thought that Max was full of bullshit, but since moving to the OC and the start of her dreams she knew that what he said held credence. Her dreams had involved multiple versions of herself, and while she had initially thought they meant nothing she was learning that was not the case. As Max spoke she found herself leaning forward in her seat, elbow resting on the table as she rested her chin on the top of her right hand. Multiverse Theory. Rosalind had done some reading online regarding the subject. It was hard not to when her dreams had been so vivid. It had piqued her curiosity, and she was not the type to ignore things that had caught her interest. Rosalind finally took a breath when Max paused in his explanation, and she couldn’t help but smile. “So what you’re saying is,” she started to say before she stopped herself. “You’re saying that my dreams are memories of a another life I’ve lived? But not a life in this universe as is the norm of reincarnation, but of another universe completely…” Her eyes were wide, and she finally sat back in her chair. “And you’ve… you’ve had another life as well?” It was difficult to believe at first, and Max couldn’t blame anyone for being skeptical - a lot of how much you believed depended on your background, your circumstance. Some people were just natural skeptics anyway, others (like him) had grown up immersed in wild ideas and theories. Magic, the occult - none of it had been real, during those days, but now that it was perhaps the cushioning of his past just made it easier to take. “That’s exactly what it is,” he nodded, and sipped his tea. “It’s literally another time, and another place. But since it’s still you, then sometimes you just feel the things you felt there. Very strongly, I might add.” His love for a man he hadn’t met before the tides of Fade shifted was all the proof he needed, personally. Not even just Dorian, but how close he felt to Leliana and to Cullen. Even Hawke, to some extent. That wasn’t all in his head. “I do have another life, yes. I’ve dreamed of it, I’m still dreaming.” And nothing about that life was easy, not in a place where the turmoil kept brewing and was currently overflowing, spilling every which way even during what one might call and ‘end of the world’ crisis. “I’m a mage, eventually specializing in Necromancy, who sort of stumbles his way into a leadership role,” Trevelyan grinned a bit. “It’s an interesting story, really - there’s war, there’s drama, there’s tough political situations to navigate. He falls in love, he finds a new family. So we’ll see what happens.” It sounded like pure fiction, something she would have watched on SyFy or something, but she knew it was true. She felt it in her bones. There was nothing she could say to argue with Max, but a part of her had to try, didn’t it? Her journalistic instincts were kicking in and telling her to question each and every thing thing. She opened her mouth to do as much, but promptly closed it. And then she opened it again. “It’s all so… fantastical,” she said finally with a shake of her head. “I mean it literally sounds like something you’ve read in a novel.” And yet even as she questioned Max she knew deep down that it was possible. Everything she had researched about multiple universes told her that all of this was possible. And her dreams lent to that fact as well. She smiled at him and let out a sigh. “As much as I don’t want to believe it… I do believe it. All of it.” Did that make her crazy? She was starting to feel crazy. “Your own story sounds fascinating,” she said to him. “I mean your memories. I mean, a mage. Someone with magic… do you ever think that what you were in another life could be a reality now? I mean, the laws of our universe vary greatly, of course, but there are certain things that are constants, must be constants amongst all the universes. I mean, for example, a middle C will always be a middle C no matter what world you’re in. Physics is a constant. It…” She paused, and covered her mouth with her hand. Those words weren’t her own, and yet they were. She looked up at Max with wide eyes, and slumped just a little. What in the world was going on with her? Max smiled a little, a quick upturn of his lips as he set his cup down. So she knew what he meant, clearly. And while he wasn’t exactly a science expert, he had his own theories and had made his own observations, so he could follow well enough. Interesting for a journalist to be barreling down that particular road, however. “I definitely think that the realities we see in our dreams are realities existing now,” he nodded. “It’s all happening somewhere. And everything comes from something. It’s why I also think that there will never be an exact match of realities - so while sometimes things bleed through, this isn’t a repeat and we can always look at this one as kind of a do-over. Where we’re armed with the knowledge of the past, kind of looking through a window not everyone gets to see.” He considered himself lucky, in some ways. For such an extraordinary life, and these extraordinary chances to make something of it. Rosalind only knew because this was something she had dreamed. She had studied in her dreams and that in turn awoke a curiosity in her current life that she could not ignore. But the words that came out of her mouth was more than a passing fancy in quantum physics. She didn’t dare say it to Max out loud, but she felt that her words were something that her “other” self would have spoken. There was passion behind the words that she would have never had for the subject after just reading a few articles she found on Google. She tilted her head to the side, and watched him as he spoke. It was all very interesting what Max was saying. She believed it, the bleeding of realities. She was living it and she felt that maybe Max had experienced it as well. She took what he said to heart, but there was a part that wondered if there was a possibility that the realities of these different universes were happening concurrently with their own. These things seemed like they happened in the past, but maybe they weren’t. This seemed like something that she wanted to investigate. “That’s a good way of thinking of it,” she said to him after a few moments. She took a sip of her drink, a long and thoughtful one, and looked at Max from over the rim of her cup. “So far I haven’t found anything to learn from these dreams other than the fact that I was obsessed with quantum physics, of all things.” She bounced her eyebrows at him, and laughed. She supposed that tidbit of information might explain why she was so keen to the idea of multiple universes in the first place. “That’s a switch, from journalism to quantum physics,” he laughed. “But not everything is the same, as it was in the places we dream of. We are those people though, we just have to decide what we want to leave behind and what we want to keep with us here.” And it was a struggle, Max though. He would probably go through the same sorts of things the Inquisitor did - working to find himself, to believe in himself, then eventually realize that it was what was in his own heart that helped his companion's face insurmountable odds. That was a power all on its own, not anything granted to him by some divine entity. “I hope I helped somewhat?” he added. “And I’m also a counselor, so if you dream of rather unpleasant things and want to unload my office is always open.” There was no shame in it - he’d been to therapy too, it was a necessary process for everyone. Especially those saddled with the kind of things Dreamers tended to be, not of their own volition. Max had helped plenty, more than Rosalind could adequately expressed. She laughed when he made his comment, and nodded. She thought that journalism and quantum physics were on opposite ends of the spectrum, but she could not deny the draw that she felt when she dreamed about it, and how it was all so familiar when she researched it in her waking hours. She had had a hard time reconciling it before, but speaking with Max made it clearer in her own mind. “I don’t really mind learning about quantum physics,” she said with a shrug. “I am finding that I do have a knack for it.” So far, at least. Rosalind had a feeling she had a lot more dreaming to be done. “And thank you, for coming here today to speak with me. You have helped tremendously.” She smiled brightly at him, and only took a moment to consider his offer of counseling. Rosalind hadn’t been to counseling since the attack in Kabul. The incident then had left her with nightmares that only subsided once she had gone to therapy. “I would love therapy,” she said to him. “I mean, I think it’ll be helpful once the dreams become a little more intense. I just have a feeling.. I mean, I know this isn’t the end of them.” She wondered for a moment if they would ever end especially if there was more than one version of themselves. “You have to let me repay you somehow. Lunch, or dinner. Free subscription to the Register,” she added with a short laugh. No, the dreams tended to play out like a very long story - they started, put you through the ringer, and then presumably they ended. But their effects certainly lingered, even in this life, so Max was happy to help any way he could - whether it was for seances or for therapy. “It’s going to be a wild ride,” he smiled sympathetically. “And having support helps. Here, though...” He opened his wallet and took out a business card, passing it over to Rosalind. “Feel free to get in touch whenever you’d like to set up a session or two. As many as you want, it can be a regular thing or if you just feel the need to come into the office and talk one day I’m available.” And as tempting as a subscription to the Register was. Not necessary, but he appreciated the offer, don’t get him wrong! “We can definitely do lunch or dinner sometime too,” he added, expression fond. “Sometimes it’s just nice to sit down and talk about things when there’s food.” Many cultures believed it was a cure-all, and sometimes Max didn’t disagree. Rosalind appreciated Max’s sympathy, and she was grateful that she had found a great support system over the network. She never would have guessed that they’d all be so empathetic to her ordeal; but then again they all had gone through the same thing with their own memories. They all knew what it was like to just start having them. She took the business card from him, and quickly placed it in her pocket book. She would definitely have to give Max a call in the future. He was easy to talk with, and she could see why he was a counselor. Rosalind let out a sigh of relief, and she felt as if a load had been lifted off her shoulders. “I find that I remember to eat when I make plans with someone,” she said with a laugh. “So lunch, or dinner, is on me next time.” And she meant it. Rosalind was not the type to take another person’s kindness for granted. “I tend to remind my workaholic friends to eat and sleep on occasion, but sometimes I’m guilty of that myself,” Trevelyan admitted. It was easy to lose track of time when you were busy, and sometimes you didn’t even notice that it had been awhile since having a real meal and not simply picking here and there. He definitely wouldn’t turn Rosalind down though - she was interesting, and seemed like someone he could get along with. “But sounds good. A belated welcome to the OC too - you’re definitely in for something...unlike anything you ever could imagine.” Understatement? Maybe. However, she’d see, all in due time. |