Catra makes the rules

Who: Stephen Strange and Open
When: Void Plot
Where:
What: Stephen's Turn to confront the past
Rating/Warnings/Notes: Death, Hospital themes, etc. I go with the canon established in Doctor Strange-The Sorcerer Supreme for my Stephen, since he was around in my head before the films. Let's go with it being a timeline divergence. That works.
Status: Open
( we don't get to choose our time )

Who:Link and Eden
When:Now
What:Trauma;a look into the past.
Where:Their room and then his old house.
Rating:Medium for mentions of arson; brain drugs; etc

( Have you told me one single thing that was true? )

Who: Sebastian Vael and Open
When: Backdated to Void Plot
Where: A reading room on the ship/Starkhaven
What: Sebastian steps into a memory that he would just as soon not see
Rating/Warnings: Death, and, as this goes on, underage drinking, drug use, underage sex, lots of experimentation, running away, family tension, mild violence
Status: Open

Sebastian had grown used, even back in Thedas, to strange events marking the course of his life. He supposed, in some sense, that it was what you got when you chose to follow Andraste as closely as he had chosen to, even if he was no longer serving in the chantry,that had still felt like her will, and so he’d followed and accepted the strange paths she led him down and towards, no matter whether they led to taking up the crown that was denied him, finding a child he had never known existed, or being kidnapped to somewhere new with his memories altered as severely as they’d been, and not to mention everything that’d happened here. Strange events were part and parcel of this life he led, and this ship was not the least of it.

That all said, things did feel more off than usual as he stopped off at one of the small reading lounges on the ship that he had taken to praying in, for the quiet and the privacy. As much as Isabela had been known to poke fun at him when she noticed what he was doing, and as much as Aedan might roll his eyes about it, it had been easier in the first few weeks not to disturb his cabinmates (though he had invited Aedan more than once, with no results, as was to be expected, he supposed), and remained that way, even as the social arrangements shifted and he knew perfectly well Castiel wouldn’t give a shit one way or the other what he did. It had just become his place to talk with his lady, in her presence, and he liked that well enough, even if he HAD simply taken to carrying a smaller icon of a saint from this world who reminded him of Andraste enough that she could stand in for his buckle or a larger piece of art. She rested in his pocket now, though he was lifting her out as he came in, perhaps paying more attention to the act of that than the room, or at least, he had a moment where it felt that way, considering that this new place was not the space that had become his private chapel.
( death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes, and we keep living anyway )