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allthisshitisweird2017-09-30 08:13 pm
faderifting) wrote in allthisshitisweird2017-09-30 08:13 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME!
TEST DRIVE MEME
Maybe you’ve been around for a while, or maybe you’re new to the Inquisition. Maybe you’re new to Thedas, having recently fallen from a tear in reality and been collected by uniformed rescuers. Whoever you are, you’ve been sent to Kirkwall, to an outpost where many of the Inquisition’s members and allies work on some of the biggest mysteries and problems the organization must solve if it’d like to keep the world from ending, where “ending” means “falling under the power of an ancient powerful corrupted being who wants everyone to bow to him as a god.”
And just to be clear, it would like that. It would like that a lot.
I. THE GALLOWS: The Gallows is an island fortress in Kirkwall’s harbor. It’s been home to, in order: Tevinter slaves, a Circle of Magi, a lot of creepy red lyrium, and now the Inquisition, which has occupied the fortress with the provisional Viscount’s blessing. There are walls that still need rebuilding and corners that still need dusting, but for the most part the Inquisition has gotten down to business. There’s space in the stone-floored courtyards to train or spar; or, if your skills don’t lie in the realm of hitting things, there’s a large library and several offices supporting the Inquisition’s areas of research and diplomatic efforts. If you don’t know what to do with yourself, then by all means, ask; someone will definitely be able to put you to work.
II. KIRKWALL: A quick row across the harbor will take you to Kirkwall proper. The city is built into the cliffs, from exclusive and wealthy Hightown at the top to impoverished Darktown in the abandoned mining tunnels below. In the middle is Lowtown, home to taverns, merchants, and plenty of trouble to keep anyone looking for it happy. You’re welcome to spend your free time and your money here—but try not to annoy the locals too much, please, in case their welcome runs out. It’d be a shame to have to pack again so soon after arriving.
III. QUESTING: Barely had time to make yourself at home, did you, before you were sent away from Kirkwall again—but this time on a mission. There’s a rift outside of Markham, pouring demons into the fields, and the Inquisition has been asked to lend a hand. Maybe literally. If you have an anchor embedded in your palm, you’re needed to close the damn thing. If not, maybe you’re here to fight demons or guard against bandits on the road, or to gather samples and take notes on the rift’s location once its closed, or to speak to Markham’s nobility afterwards to make sure that they fully appreciate the Inquisition’s efforts. Regardless, it’s a long trip, so we hope you like campfire cooking and sharing a tent.
IV. SENDING CRYSTAL: Joining the Inquisition gets you access to the very latest in barely-understood magical communication devices—namely, a crystal, small enough to wear around your neck, that will allow you to communicate verbally with anyone else who has one. Or everyone else who has one. Say hello.
V. WILDCARD: The whole of Thedas is yours to explore, from coast to uncharted wilderness filled with bears. Choose your own adventure!
Maybe you’ve been around for a while, or maybe you’re new to the Inquisition. Maybe you’re new to Thedas, having recently fallen from a tear in reality and been collected by uniformed rescuers. Whoever you are, you’ve been sent to Kirkwall, to an outpost where many of the Inquisition’s members and allies work on some of the biggest mysteries and problems the organization must solve if it’d like to keep the world from ending, where “ending” means “falling under the power of an ancient powerful corrupted being who wants everyone to bow to him as a god.”
And just to be clear, it would like that. It would like that a lot.
I. THE GALLOWS: The Gallows is an island fortress in Kirkwall’s harbor. It’s been home to, in order: Tevinter slaves, a Circle of Magi, a lot of creepy red lyrium, and now the Inquisition, which has occupied the fortress with the provisional Viscount’s blessing. There are walls that still need rebuilding and corners that still need dusting, but for the most part the Inquisition has gotten down to business. There’s space in the stone-floored courtyards to train or spar; or, if your skills don’t lie in the realm of hitting things, there’s a large library and several offices supporting the Inquisition’s areas of research and diplomatic efforts. If you don’t know what to do with yourself, then by all means, ask; someone will definitely be able to put you to work.
II. KIRKWALL: A quick row across the harbor will take you to Kirkwall proper. The city is built into the cliffs, from exclusive and wealthy Hightown at the top to impoverished Darktown in the abandoned mining tunnels below. In the middle is Lowtown, home to taverns, merchants, and plenty of trouble to keep anyone looking for it happy. You’re welcome to spend your free time and your money here—but try not to annoy the locals too much, please, in case their welcome runs out. It’d be a shame to have to pack again so soon after arriving.
III. QUESTING: Barely had time to make yourself at home, did you, before you were sent away from Kirkwall again—but this time on a mission. There’s a rift outside of Markham, pouring demons into the fields, and the Inquisition has been asked to lend a hand. Maybe literally. If you have an anchor embedded in your palm, you’re needed to close the damn thing. If not, maybe you’re here to fight demons or guard against bandits on the road, or to gather samples and take notes on the rift’s location once its closed, or to speak to Markham’s nobility afterwards to make sure that they fully appreciate the Inquisition’s efforts. Regardless, it’s a long trip, so we hope you like campfire cooking and sharing a tent.
IV. SENDING CRYSTAL: Joining the Inquisition gets you access to the very latest in barely-understood magical communication devices—namely, a crystal, small enough to wear around your neck, that will allow you to communicate verbally with anyone else who has one. Or everyone else who has one. Say hello.
V. WILDCARD: The whole of Thedas is yours to explore, from coast to uncharted wilderness filled with bears. Choose your own adventure!
fjskdgjsdg this is the bEst
[ Solas, of course, knows far more about the Fade and the nature of the Veil then he is willing to let on. He is about to continue, but then her hand moves and rests upon his shoulder, and he is caught in whatever trap she has laid for him to fall into. He is frustrated, true, but his thoughts are distracted entirely as soon as she gets close to him.
He stands taller, he thinks; he feels stronger for the gentleness of her hand. It's almost as though time itself has bent around him, and there's anxiety that floods him as he shifts to try and step away from her. ]
I am sure it will come to pass in Thedas, too. [ It is his dream, after all, and he will find a way. ] It will simply take time.
Oh shit he backed up, is it me? Quick topic shift!
She resolves not to touch him again and her expression holds some nameless quality of apology within it.]
It shall. [Her agreement is ready and without caveat. She gestures on and begins walking once more though her pace is somewhat slowed.]
During my time here I have often asked of artisans, of mages and of elves, just how their creations are formed and I wonder if you, being all three, might avail me.
Do you pour your...[She hesitates to use the word because it is a poor substitute, but it is also the parlance of these lands.] Magic into the works you create? Does a piece of you remain within them, guiding their existence?
1000 years later: im actually fine with you touching me
He does not look at her, and does not witness her apology. He focusses on the path ahead, as he must always do.
Do not forget your goals. ]
There is no magic in my art, no. It is simply paint and charcoal, with images of truths to encourage those that might be blind to the hope that still remains for them.
[ He looks back over, finally, expression gentling. ]
I had not thought to put magic into them. I do not wish to be known as the artist, after all.
no subject
It is more an act of imbuing it with...[She makes a small huff of frustration, it is a rare sound coming from her.] I am sorry, I lack the equivalent word. To imbue your works with fëa is so common that seeing works without is...odd for me.
[She lifts the corner of her cloak to serve as an example. On the surface it is a boring object, plain grey and uninteresting. It is easy to let one's eyes slide over the fabric and travel onward to view other things. If one focuses, though, it becomes a challenge to see; where the fabric passes into shadow it even seems to reflect the world behind Galadriel. It is a dizzying effect, overall.]
I doubt I could weave a cloak that did not carry my will within it. But then, I suppose I have never been overly concerned with anonymity.
no subject
If there was a way that mirrored it here I would make an attempt for you. Unfortunately, all I have is paint and walls that need decorating.
[ The cloak is, at least, a distraction, and Solas lets his eyes drink it in carefully. After a moment he has to look away, the movement of the fabric enough to make his eyes feel as though they're crossing over themselves. It harks back to the world he knew once more, when magic was not as tame and difficult as it is now, in this world where people think of themselves as mages and are barely a scrap of what had once been.
Smiling, he shakes his head. ]
I see no reason why anonymity should be your concern.
FORESHADOWING or something, idk.
[His offer makes her smile and, briefly, she toys with offering to teach him how to imbue willpower into artwork. She does not know him well enough to make such an offer, unfortunately, and refrains. She lowers her cloak back into place and regards the hall around them with a careful eye.]
At any rate, I should like to see more of them decorated. This is a dark and dreary place and the colors of your paintings are a splash of spring in the dead of winter.
Before I bid you goodnight, I should ask: where might I find you when I wish to study paint, color, and the art of rebellion?
[It is a joke, a simple reference to the meaning of his work, and she hopes he will not take offense.]
:EYES:
[ Solas can't help the way he frowns. He can imagine why she might have been imprisoned, but he doesn't have to like it. He hadn't enjoyed the Herald's imprisonment, especially when he had tried for some time to help keep her alive, and he mislikes the idea of someone as graceful and nostalgic as the elf in front of him being behind bars. No one should be imprisoned for their existence, and he has to bite his tongue.
For now. ]
I can only give what I can to those that have very little left to fight for. Finding hope in a time as difficult as the one we live is not easy.
[ The art of rebellion, she says, and Solas can't help the way he smiles, the way that it makes him think of names and acts, the history of the world and what he made of it, makes of it now, unfolding and remaking. ]
I spend much of my time in the library, studying the Fade and the Veil. If I am not there then I am here, or in my quarters.
no subject
[Galadriel places her hand over her heart and bows forward ever so slightly. His words about hope had endeared him to her and, even as she rises, there is a distinct fondness in her face.]
Elen sila lumenn' omentielvo, Solas.