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Fade Rift Mods ([personal profile] faderifting) wrote in [community profile] allthisshitisweird2019-07-24 07:02 pm
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TEST DRIVE MEME

TEST DRIVE MEME

While in some alternate, tidier timeline, the War against the Elder One ended years ago, you're not in that timeline. It's 9:45, and there's a war raging in northern Orlais, where the Chantry, aided by the Inquisition, marshalling Orlais and the faithful of Southern Thedas into a new Exalted March against the army of demon-bound Wardens, Red Templars, Venatori loyalists, and darkspawn Corypheus has amassed over the last four years. Rifts are still scattered across the continent, periodically spitting out strangers from strange worlds with green-glowing anchors embedded in their hands. There's no Herald of Andraste to save Thedas. Someone else is going to have to do it.

You're part of (or allied with, recently hired by, imprisoned by, etc.) a new organization that's an offshoot of the Inquisition, dubbed Riftwatch, that consists mainly of the otherworldly new arrivals, rebels and Wardens, and other people who want to prevent the apocalypse without necessarily marching under the Chantry's banner to do it. Their headquarters is an island fortress called the Gallows—formerly a Circle of Magi, more formerly a prison for slaves, but its new occupants have done a good job removing the more grotesque reminders of that past and making the place livable.

Maybe you're here because you want to help. Maybe you need the money (though there isn't much of it). Maybe you acquired an anchor and sticking around is the only way to prevent your hand from falling off. Maybe you've been sent by the Chantry or some other entity to keep an eye on everyone—they're rumored to be a lot of weirdos and troublemakers. Or maybe you're a new rifter and just going where the nice people with swords tell you that you need to go.


I. KIRKWALL: Even when enormous evil darkspawn are trying to take over the known world and you and your colleagues might be the only ones who can truly stop him, you can't work all the time. And when you aren't working, Kirkwall is there for you with its dingy Lowtown taverns, its flashy Hightown establishments, its market stalls and street musicians and cellars hosting gamblers. (Or maybe you can work all the time, and you're in the city to do some official shopping, try to spy on a suspicious character, or show a potential financial backer a good time.)

II. THE PLANASCENE FOREST: West of Kirkwall lies the Planascene forest. As far as enormous, ancient forests go, it's fairly small, but still large enough to disappear in if you aren't careful. And someone hasn't been careful. A merchant en route to deliver raw materials to the Gallows has gone missing somewhere on the road, and you're one of the lucky short-straw-drawers sent to find them. Or whatever is left of them. There are Dalish in the woods—mean ones, rumor has it—as well as Thedas' typical unnaturally aggressive wolves and bears, steep drops and hidden traps left behind by hunters, and at least one group of vicious bandits.

III. THE DEEP ROADS: The ground beneath Thedas is threaded with cavernous ancient roads, once used by the dwarves to traverse the continent, now largely abandoned by anyone except roving bands of darkspawn. Unfortunately for everyone, this abandonment and inhospitality make them an excellent way to travel unnoticed beneath everyone else's feet, which is why you're currently engaged in a skirmish with a gang of snarling, corrupted genlocks, or trying to cross a narrow stone bridge without thinking about how bottomless the dark beneath it seems to be.

IV. SEND A MESSAGE: Each member of Riftwatch (or rifter, or ally) is assigned a blue crystal, small enough to wear around the neck, that can transmit voice messages, as well as an enchanted book tied to that crystal that can be used to exchange written messages. They're secure enough to discuss the war, if you'd like to get down to business, but loosely controlled enough to ask a question or play a game with only a few rolled eyes from people who hate fun.

V. WILDCARD: From the Gallows' library to the pirate islands off the coast, from Hightown's high-priced market stalls to the bloody frontlines of the war, Thedas is yours to explore.

thekohakuriver: (Gentle Smile)

Haku | Spirited Away | Rifter

[personal profile] thekohakuriver 2019-07-25 12:39 am (UTC)(link)
i. Kirkwall
Humans were, by and large, chaotic. Haku often wondered if he hated them, or loved them for it; a river brought life, wherever it flowed, but when that life included humans...

Still, he couldn't really hate them all. And there was a spirit to the marketplace, aside from his literal presence, that made it a festive, celebratory place, even when it was just an ordinary day. He hadn't any money for the pickpockets, and was too foreign for most to bother; but he could walk among the stink of humanity and look at what they had made. It reminded him of the midway, at Yubaba's bathhouse, crowded with hungry, lonely revelers, a glowing light in the great darkness.

Humans! Had they thought of it first, or had the spirits? He found himself standing at a shoemaker's stall, holding a slipper in one hand. It was silk, dyed pink, and sized for a child. It couldn't have been more different than Chihiro's tatty old sneaker, but the memory made him smile, just the same. The cobbler wasn't nearly so pleased to have his wares fondled by a stranger fallen out from a Rift.

"Oi, you gonna buy it or piss off?"

He could use a helping hand.


ii. Forest
There's more than bears in these woods. Ever seen a dragon? Well, no, not that kind; this one is considerably smaller. And snakier. And fighting a bear. How did an enormous snake-dragon get in a rolling,s snarling, snapping, deadly fight with a bear the size of a draft horse? Even for a dragon with a shard in one talon, that's a hard question to answer.

Maybe a more important question is, how to get out of it? And how will you help, or better yet.... escape?

iv. Message
[Crystal/Voice]

Where I come from, is a land of many spirits. This place is... quieter. I'm curious.

Have any of you met any spirits in your travels? Or were they only... the corrupted demons, like those Rift creatures?


v. Wildcard
Anything you like, anywhere you please! HMU if you're uncertain
justashotaway: (11.)

laura kinney | x-men | native!au

[personal profile] justashotaway 2019-07-25 01:45 am (UTC)(link)
in and around kirkwall.

Kirkwall smells horrific to Laura, and yet she stays--better here than anywhere else she's been. Smoky taverns don't suit her, exactly, but she does visit them on occasion. More appealing are the markets, neither too fancy nor too filthy, filled with things she's never seen before. She's entranced by the scent of spices and the flash of jewelry--though she knows better than to touch--and hangs back a little from the things she likes best. It's rare that she does more than look.

In the Gallows, she spends more time than is likely healthy trying to climb up to the parapets, scrabbling at stony bits in the walls without the slightest concern that she might be injured in the process. Sometimes, she lurks in dark corners vaguely near where others are socializing, observing--usually well hidden, sometimes not.

She doesn't care for the docks at all. Don't make her go down to the water, please and thank you. (Or drag her along for a boat ride, she'll love that.)

Very late at night, one might catch her in the Gallows library, looking at a book of fairy tales. It's one of the rare moments it's a little less difficult to sneak up on her. Interrupting her is unlikely to go well.

deep roads.

Laura's a natural choice for taking down to the Deep Roads--she's not only an able fighter, it takes a lot to knock her down. Someone yells genlock! and she's leaping at them, silvery, insubstantial claws flashing in the darkness. Every move is smooth, and all of it is rote.

Unfortunately, she's not an especially comforting traveling partner. Are you in danger in a fight? She's not above shoving you out of the way in the process of murdering whatever's trying to murder you. Hesitating on a bridge? "Hurry up. We have places to be."

At night, she stays by the fire primarily to keep warm, and only when it seems necessary. Others might talk, tell stories, sing--but she doesn't join in, only listens while trying not to look like she's listening too closely. For an awkward exchange, ask her to join in!

wildcard.

[If you're familiar with the X-Men comics, her canonpoint equivalent is squishily around X-Force I'll nail it down harder when I write the app, pre-Liu. If you aren't: Laura's a ~16-17 year old with claws (lyrium spirit claw things!), a rough background, and minimal social intelligence. She is incredibly graceful and dangerous as long as she's in a situation where she doesn't have to understand how feelings work. If you'd like more information or would like to talk some shit out, please feel free to PM me!]
Edited 2019-07-25 01:49 (UTC)
middling: <user name="robutts" site="http://plurk.com"> (pic#10215579)

ivan vorpatril | the vorkosigan saga | native au

[personal profile] middling 2019-07-25 01:48 am (UTC)(link)
( Ivan Vorpatril is an unnaturally man, easily distinguished by the single set of horns curving back from his head and out from his short clipped, very thick dark hair. His skin leans towards an odd bronze sheen, although the rest of him beyond his size and his horns looks quite human. And extremely handsome -- it's a defining feature. Perhaps his only real defining feature.

He can be seen around Kirkwall and the Gallows -- only in Hightown, however, and far away from any of the main hubs of activity or anything dangerous. Wave him down, or be subject to a flirtatious conversation he's struck up with some attractive passerby or member of Riftwatch.
)

iii.
( Ivan doesn't even know why he's here. He has no skill in fighting, and no desire to learn beyond the little he learned in his mother's attempts to see him progress in the Orlesian military. Diplomat, through and through. If that -- he's just happy to lounge around and look good. He's got it down to an art. Lord Ivan Vorpatril, good to look at and not good for much else, that's him.

And it's the Deep Roads -- he hates it. He hates it because it's damp and dark and underground and Ivan is claustrophobic. Although he denies it when someone asks about it.

Instead he focuses on the bridge ahead of them, but doesn't take a single step towards it.
)

Are you sure it's stable? I'd rather not be the first to test it, if it's all the same to you.

iv.
I'm new in town, so let's get down to business. Anyone know of any good restaurants? Places to buy nice gifts, clothing, things like that? I have to start figuring that out now, so I know ahead of time when I'll need it.

Also someplace that'll send nice flowers as an apology to, uh. Just about everyone.

One last thing -- if anyone receives a message from a Lady Alys Vorpatril, just... well, I suppose if anyone ignores it she'll know--


( The voice trails off before stopping, as Ivan tries to figure out the best way to avoid his mother. )


[ ooc: feel free to hit me with anything, and if you'd like to set something specific up just send me a pm to this account or on plurk at [plurk.com profile] tscarcasm ]
Edited 2019-07-25 01:50 (UTC)
poleaxed: static; angry; hand; fight (Default)

jone | native oc | ota.

[personal profile] poleaxed 2019-07-25 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
a. KIRKWALL AT ITS FINEST.
[Jone needs the money.]

[An imposing figure somewhere in the vicinity of six foot tall, Jone is clearly some kind of warrior, given the shoddy armor she's wearing. And considering how she's waving that chair around, she's not too bad. Just look at how she tosses the thing across the room in the middle of that bar fight.]

[Because of course she's gotten herself into a bar fight. Did she start it? She'll deny it, and that's what matters.]

[Jone uses the chair she's picked up to mow down the man in front of her, pushing him straight through a window. She turns to you-- will you fight her?]

[She smiles, and blood trickles from her nose.]
One good hit, [she says,] S'all it takes.
b. THE FOREST, ME LADS.
[Shitty jobs make for a shitty life, so at least there's some kind of grand narrative consistency in Jone's every day. She's currently trudging through the fancyass forest searching for some fancyass merchant. Maybe she's with your party, or maybe you happened upon her in this here clearing-] Shh, sh. Did'ja notice how quiet it got?

[An arrow hits a tree nearby. Jone unhooks a very large sword from her back. Her smile is gruesome.] Fuckin' finally.

[Did she want this to happen?]
c. DEEP DARK ROADS.
[The deep dark goes on forever. Jone can think of worse places to die. Something about being down here is... fitting. She's a bad person, and deserves it, after all. If things go that way. Which, being a selfish person, she's going to try to avoid.]

[As you slowly traverse a long, dark corridor, getting ever more penned in as the walls make the passageway narrower and narrower, you'll hear Jone's creaky voice murmur-]
Be a real damn hassle, if we got attacked right now, huh?

[Do you hear the sound of armor clanking? Of growls echoing through the dark?]
d. HOWDY YALL.
[Jone's voice is heavily accented, with something of a smoker's scrape. To those who recognize it, the clip and cut of her vowels place her from the worse off parts of Denerim; she is one of Ferelden's poor.]

[Her voice transmits just fine.]


Dunno how I feel 'bout using all this witchy shite. Uh, no offense to any y'all who're witches.

[She clears her throat.]

You ever get into one of them jams where the stakes're real bloody high and everything's all red and you're caught in the damn crossfire? Well, this ain't that.

Heard something about a fighting ring. Turns out the whole thing's been cocked up something awful. Crooked, you know. Being the upright citizen I am, I might have kicked some teeth out of the old bookkeepers. If I was, say, to start the damn thing up again... who's taking bets? Need a numbers man. And fighters. They'd be good, too.
e. WILDCARD.
[i'm up for anything! like, literally. if you wanna ask a q, hmu with a pm!]
bouchonne: (droll)

iii

[personal profile] bouchonne 2019-07-25 01:54 am (UTC)(link)
[ Byerly's voice is, characteristically, kind and guileless and decent and warm-hearted when he replies - ]

But you're the best one to test it. If it's going to break under anyone, it's going to break under you.
middling: <user name="robutts" site="http://plurk.com"> (pic#10215574)

[personal profile] middling 2019-07-25 01:58 am (UTC)(link)
( He will throw you over the edge, Byerly, and see how you like it. )

Or we could find another way around. One that didn't involve bridges that look like no one's stood on them in hundreds of years.
bouchonne: (considering)

[personal profile] bouchonne 2019-07-25 02:02 am (UTC)(link)
Yes, a brilliant thought. Perhaps we can find a path that would send us into the loving embrace of some darkspawn. You'd make a magnificent taint-monstrosity, I think.

[ And he smiles, quite pleasant, as is his constant wont. ]
middling: <user name="robutts" site="http://plurk.com"> (pic#10215578)

[personal profile] middling 2019-07-25 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
( The thing is... the thing is... he hates Byerly Rutyer. No one can be so aggravating and pull it off with a smile without being a very, very irritating person. And Ivan has practice with irritating -- his cousin is a perfect example. )

How many people have told you that you're the worst, Byerly? Today, I mean. ( Because there would be too many to count otherwise. ) Why don't you go across first, By. That way if the bridge breaks you'll have me around to pull you up.
bouchonne: (supercilious)

[personal profile] bouchonne 2019-07-25 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
You know, Ivan - [ Perfectly cheerful - ] That tone in your voice makes me wonder if you actually would.

But you know that I'm an unrepentant coward. You're a brave man, though, aren't you?
poleaxed: angry; hand; fight (nothing)

iii.

[personal profile] poleaxed 2019-07-25 02:18 am (UTC)(link)
[Why is he here? Is he a financier? Jone had planned to ask the people they were traveling with when they had a spare moment, but then Vasker and Rove got lost and they might be dead and it's just Jone and this guy-- Ivan? Eevan? Something like that. Lord something like that.]

[And now he's kicking sand. Joan sighs, and reaches out to place one of her large hands on his forehead.]
Shh. Deep breath.

[And then she hefts him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.] Deeeep breath.
aziraphlail: (Default)

Aziraphale | Good Omens | Rifter

[personal profile] aziraphlail 2019-07-25 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
I. Kirkwall

"And these are all the languages you have books in?" The man asking the question doesn't seem discouraged despite the question, nor does he seem to notice the scrutiny he's being held in, in his clothes that are out of place, with his jaunty little bow tie. "Do you have a reader, maybe? Something to teach the language?"

It's been a while since he's learned a new one, and he's feeling a little excited at the prospect of a half-dozen to learn. But that's not the most exciting part of being here.

"One of the languages your Chant of Light is in, specifically."


II. The Planascene Forest

They've given him a sword. He's held one before, yes, but it's been centuries and he, well. He misplaced the last one. Twice. He's never had to use one.

"Are bandits especially common?" Aziraphale is holding the sword at a strange angle, clearly not exactly prepared to wield it. Maybe he shouldn't have told them that he's used one before, or maybe he should have been more clear that he'd stood there and held it previously.

IV. Send a Message

[His voice is soft and cheerful, with a British accent.]

Well isn't this something. Hello, Riftwatch. I'm Aziraphale. I was wondering if anyone would tell me their experiences with your Maker. It's a... personal field of study for me.
kalt: (pic#13309453)

A

[personal profile] kalt 2019-07-25 02:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ The rifter woman is unblemished. The viciously pointed and serrated knife she brandishes low, however, bears a swipe of someone's blood. She holds it with careful intent, in no particular rush to ruin another face, but perfectly satisfied in the act of it. It wasn't even one of her poisoned blades, nor the shortsword still on her hip. She was taking this bar-fight only as seriously as it needed to be taken. The careful control is a warning. So is her haughty tone, voice deep and rough for a woman's. ]

Mind yourself.
middling: <user name="robutts" site="http://plurk.com"> (Default)

[personal profile] middling 2019-07-25 02:27 am (UTC)(link)
( Ivan almost growls, caught between a rock and a hard place -- exactly where Byerly wants him. It makes him grit his teeth, and then he reaches out to grab Byerly by his fine collar. )

You're coming with me.

( And then he takes a very, very careful step onto the bridge. )
kalt: (pic#13309482)

ii

[personal profile] kalt 2019-07-25 02:28 am (UTC)(link)
Are bandits especially-- She glances at him, her amusement dark and unfriendly. There were plenty enough who described her clan as bandits, when they weren't whispering that they were werewolves.

"Maybe, if you've something worth taking."

Her dark eyes drop towards the sword, and then lift again, eyebrow cocked.
bouchonne: (too hungover for this)

[personal profile] bouchonne 2019-07-25 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
Wait - hold on -

[ This is an - unfortunate turn of events. By tries to dig in his heels, but Ivan is damnably large. ]

If you're worried about it collapsing, then the only intelligent thing to do would be to - cross one at a time. Honestly.
poleaxed: joke; static; tired. (cause you wanna be)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2019-07-25 02:30 am (UTC)(link)
[Pretty. Clean. Nice work if you can get it.]

[Jone is neither pretty nor clean, and she sure isn't quick and neat with her kills. Precision and finesse seem expensive. Jone would rather get her hands dirty. Something about the way it makes her blood sing-]

[The girl is waiting. Probably. Jone can respect that. She can respect skill. She grins, in the middle of the melee, and bows in an imitation of a landed lord. Good day, my lady.]

[Someone gets too close, and like a trap closing shut, Jone turns to bash the guy's face in with a chair.]
I'm right minded. How you feelin', partner?

[Because that's what they are, if they're not fighting.]
middling: <user name="robutts" site="http://plurk.com"> (pic#10229037)

[personal profile] middling 2019-07-25 02:34 am (UTC)(link)
( This is-- what. What's going on. Ivan blinks, blinks again as he's being picked up, and then attempts to half heartedly get out of her grip. )

Wha--

( Help him. Please. He doesn't know what to do he's never been in this situation before. )
poleaxed: fight; sad; angry (tries as hard)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2019-07-25 02:39 am (UTC)(link)
[She reaches up to scritch behind his horns, like he's some kind of large cat.] C'mon, c'mon. Close yer eyes if you gotta. I'm getting you out of here.

[Because-- the poor fucks they came down here with? They'd abandon her. If they're alive, they likely already have. But you gotta protect the financier. Or whatever this rich tit is.]
aziraphlail: (Oh no)

[personal profile] aziraphlail 2019-07-25 02:39 am (UTC)(link)
That's hardly an encouraging response, and Aziraphale looks from her, to his sword, and back.

"This? Is there a shortage of swords?" He'd been prepared to fight for the sake of the world, but that had been against the Antichrist and the devil, not any ordinary people. He's not even sure if he can die here or if he'll just be discorporated and returned back. It wouldn't really be fair to go around stabbing people.
middling: <user name="robutts" site="http://plurk.com"> (pic#10229036)

[personal profile] middling 2019-07-25 02:41 am (UTC)(link)
You know no one's ever accused me of being intelligent.

( He's just saying. And Ivan shrugs off By's struggles, and continues to cross the bridge. He's careful enough -- a steady step but not, exactly, very delicately. )
kalt: (pic#13309479)

[personal profile] kalt 2019-07-25 02:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ She shows her teeth. A brief smile of disgust. She is no a lady to be bowed to, but she is to be respected, and willing to kill over so small a thing. With this thing exchanged, her attention turns where it needs to; those too drunk to heed the warning. She never does take out her other weapons, but she does use the pommel of her short sword to smash into a man's groin, does backhand weak jaws with her studded gloves, and those who provide real trouble might lose an eye or a finger. She's less immaculate through all of that, although the sweat and the bloodied bruise on her temple suit her dark looks, her fur collar and leather belts.

She looks for the big warrior in the ratty armor, who she knows started it all and won't want to lay down and be quiet. ]


Are you through yet?

[ Called above the lingering noise. ]
middling: <user name="robutts" site="http://plurk.com"> (pic#10215577)

[personal profile] middling 2019-07-25 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
( Oh. Hey, that's-- )

S'feels nice.

( He's kind of tuning everything else out at this point, because he doesn't really understand why he's here, being carried out by someone. But he's not going to question it, nope. )
poleaxed: static; angry; hand; fight (Default)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2019-07-25 02:46 am (UTC)(link)
Never.

[The thing is, Jone is diseased. The a preistess once said her soul was sick. time has only made it worse. She loves the fight. The rush of violence strengthens her soul. Bloody knuckles give her a reason for being.]

[Another punch. Another kick.]


What, you getting winded?
poleaxed: angry ; static (saved)

[personal profile] poleaxed 2019-07-25 02:49 am (UTC)(link)
[That's kind of... cute? Oh, Andraste's great tits.]

One'a my many talents. You doin' okay? Just keep breathing, all that.

[She makes her way down the bridge as it creaks ominously beneath them, swaying slightly.]
kalt: (pic#13309469)

[personal profile] kalt 2019-07-25 02:52 am (UTC)(link)
[ She snorts in response, crouching down to pick through the pockets of the downed man at her feet. ]

It's poor sport.

[ Did that give her away as more hunter than fighter? ]

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