crystal malfunction memevent

[faderifting]

crystals get fucked
(a meme slash tiny game event)

The Inquisition’s sending crystals are typically very reliable and not susceptible to accidental transmissions or misdelivered messages. They’re also fairly limited in function and security.

The latter is something that researchers in Skyhold are working to address, when they have the time. Unfortunately, one of them—maybe a little angry about having to work alone on First Day, maybe day drinking while she does so—has now made some significant errors while meddling with proposed improvements. And from the beginning of the day on Wintermarch 1, the sending crystals will start behaving badly:

Messages might transmit to the wrong person.

Messages might transmit to the right person but also a few additional unintended people.

Messages might transmit to everyone at once.

Pieces of old conversations from any point in the last year or so might leak, either to individuals or to everyone. Delayed messages of that sort will sound distant, like they’re coming from the end of a long tunnel.

Attempts to transition from a public to a private conversation will sometimes fail.

Crystals may start transmitting to people or to everyone at random, without being touched.

All of this could occur at any time—sometimes at the beginning of a conversation, sometimes midway through it, sometimes when someone isn’t using the crystal at all.

The problems will start out sporadic enough to seem insignificant or like probable user errors, but grow increasingly common as the day wears on, until the issue is identified and corrected at Skyhold in the early hours of Wintermarch 2 and the tipsy researcher disciplined accordingly.

This meme/event is game canon. You can decide among yourselves if there’s something you would rather try out for fun with no consequences and/or retcon after the fact, as always, but unless otherwise established by players, this is really happening. Threads done in this post can count toward activity rewards.

Additionally, this specific post is for open top-levels that anyone can tag and threadjack. Think TFLN in style/format, missing pants optional. Don’t post closed or locked conversations here. If you want to do specific misfires with specific people, you can use inboxes. You can also post to the rookery comm if you want to use the event for a more visible gamewide open post.

Comments

[coquettish_trees]

[ Really it's worse no matter what!

Snapped rather viciously: ]

Oh, let us see, next weekend perhaps, I seem to have cleared both bed and social calendar. Bring flowers.

[bouchonne]

Geraniums?

[coquettish_trees]

[ thump of thrown crystal against wall, distant muffled sobbing ]

[bouchonne]

No? Roses?

[ how do you handle this, why couldn't he keep avoiding her like he's been doing ]

failed private,

[faithlikeaseed]

[that’s exactly enough audible distress to trigger Myr’s need to Fix Things,]

Messere, are you—

[no she is not all right]

—is this something that might be solved by a duel for your honor?

[because sometimes humor helps, but also he likes her well enough he’d hassle a mouthy shem for her]

[coquettish_trees]

[ That's absurdly sweet and encouraging enough to net her apparent return to pick it up again with a small prim sniff and a tone as gentle as it had been incensed before. ]

No, cher. It is not. [ Resignedly amused: ] Worry not, my honor is a small enough patch of land to stand upon these days that another cede of territory shall hardly make much difference.

Even so, I find my spirits well bolstered by your offer.

[faithlikeaseed]

[That’s heartening to hear. No one should have to sound that desolate—especially where apparently everyone could hear. Maker’s all-encompassing love what a disaster.]

Then I’m glad to have made it—though if the world should esteem you so little as that it seems I’ll need back up.

[To fight them all, natch.] Is there aught else I can do?

[coquettish_trees]

[ rather sadly: ] No, Knight-Enchanter, I think not. But I prize your intentions over your blade, and shall not forget the thought.

[bouchonne]

Please don't try to duel me. To begin with, it would dishonor me to accept your challenge.

[faithlikeaseed]

[whoops.

well, fuck it, we’ll do it live.

amiably,] And why is that, messere?

[bouchonne]

[ Because it would be admitting some measure of wrongdoing when the only thing I've done wrong is having the audacity to wake up on a day after Lexie's cursed Vint showed his true colors. And getting involved with the blasted woman to begin with. She's the one who - ]

Why, because I am a Rutyer, son of the Banns of Dragonmount. I can trace my lineage back to the Alamarri tribes who marched beside Andraste. You, dear fellow, if I do not mistake your voice, are a mage. And an elf. Only a peer can demand satisfaction.

[faithlikeaseed]

Ah, [mildly,] and truly it would be a shame to in any way besmirch the honor of so august a family. A stain on my own honor, even.

[Especially for what was mostly a joke to cheer someone up.]

I'll settle for an unkind thought in your direction that you couldn't predict the crystals malfunctioning today, of all days.

[bouchonne]

[ What a disappointing reaction. ]

You assume.

[faithlikeaseed]

[The art of not letting them get to you.]

Oho. Did you have some foreknowledge, messere? Or even cause the problem?

[bouchonne]

Well, the theoretical problem was the message being sent to everyone. Why, my fellow, do you assume I did not wish for it to be sent to everyone?

[faithlikeaseed]

[He laughs at that.]

You do have me there; I don’t know you didn’t.

In which case I am now substantially more alarmed than I was, [doesn’t sound it yet] and reconsidering leaving things at an unkind thought.

[keenly]

[He hates to come to Byerly's defense, but Lexie's been enough of a mess lately.]

Milady? I don't think it was meant for you?

[Maybe the man will take the hint and agree, thereby walking back his crystal-throw-awayable mistake?

Though it's good to know his theory that all the nobles have slept with each other still holds water.]

[coquettish_trees]

[ snarled, from a similar distance, entirely forgetting whether or not Colin can understand her: ]

Ah, bien sûr ce n'est pas.

[ because she's ubiquitously unwanted right now, thank you for the reminder. ]

[keenly]

[oh, well. he doesn’t have to know the language to get the message.]

private; but like janky private that you can assume went public if at any point you wanna jack

[wythersake]

[ in orlesian, ]

How long has it been?

[ since someone fucked someone, or didn't fuck someone, and what-ever else is going on. of the assorted noble assholes involved, alexandrie's contacts seem most useful, so. u kno. ]

[coquettish_trees]

[ a brief pause, then incredulous laughter with a slight edge to it, then she replies in the same. ]

Eleven years. Eight years. A handful of days—or perhaps more near a month. Tell me what is it you are inquiring after so obliquely, and I shall be a more obliging purveyor of it.

[wythersake]

And spoil the puzzle? I hope you don't think me so crass,

[ that's wry. ]

How long has it been since you've had a pleasant, unpoisoned meal, with outside company?

[coquettish_trees]

You may pick me up at eight.

[ that's wry. ]

[wythersake]

Spare the jewels, you'll sparkle enough.

[ and get robbed otherwise, a bitch is not about to spring for hightown ]

[coquettish_trees]

[ Well, that tells her the dress code. A bitch is not trying to return to Hightown society yet anyway. ]

Do bring me a geranium.

[ So dry. She's probably kidding. ]