TEST DRIVE MEME!

[faderifting]

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 9:46, 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.

OOC: We post Test Drives fairly infrequently! But current players are strongly encouraged to track new top-level comments to the post so they don't miss new arrivals, and new folks should not be shy about commenting just because the post has been up for a while.

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 underground network of old mining tunnels inhabited by the disenfranchised and a few violent criminals. Or maybe you can work all the time, and you're in the city to do some official shopping, keep an eye on a suspicious character, or show a potential financial backer a good time. The city is grey, cold, and in places vaguely sinister—but it's home.

II. SUNDERMOUNT: North of Kirkwall lies the highest peak of the nearby mountain range. In more ancient days it was rumored to be the site of unspeakable horrors, but at present prowled by more speakable horrors, like possessed skeletons, shadow warriors, and the rare revenant or varterral. And you've been sent to prowl along with them, inside the winding caves that cut through the peak or over the snow currently coating the paths that wind around it. The reasons vary: maybe you're in search of medicinal herbs, maybe you're tracking a party of suspicious travelers lurking outside Kirkwall, or maybe you just took a wrong turn off the road trying to travel in or out of the city.

III. ORLAIS: Further south, Orlais is weathering the winter and the invasion of its northern territories in its usual style—which is why you're here, in a snow-blanketed manor just outside Val Royeaux, representing Riftwatch at the invitation of a gathering of masked nobility who have gathered to discuss ways to support the war effort while not starving their serfs and alienages. And to play parlor games. Maybe have an occasional chamber concert. Your role may be to actively participate in the planning, or it may be to be charming and noncommital while observing, or it may be to provide an example of a well-behaved rifter/elf/mage/Qunari/Fereldan. Regardless: your best behavior is expected, but that doesn't mean you can't sneak into the Duchess' very well-appointed library at night or slip away to try sliding down the length of a frozen reflecting pool in the gardens.

IV. THE FRONT: Riftwatch is no longer part of the Inquisition or directly engaged in the war that it, the Chantry's faithful Exalted Marchers, and Orlais are fighting against an invading Tevinter and Ander force in northern Orlais. But frequently enough, Riftwatch's business—delivering helpful intelligence, spending quality time with prisoners of war that might have information, assisting soldiers with a rift they've found too close to their camps, or passing through on the way somewhere else—requires passing near or through the frontline drawn through northern Orlais and now northern Nevarra, where it's possible to encounter enemy bands of dracolisk-mounted soldiers, fire-throwing mages, or particularly nasty darkspawn with red lyrium growing from their bodies.

V. 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.

VI. 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.

Comments

[altusimperius]

I do.

[He hesitates.]

But that's best discussed in person, I think. [SOME people might get UNCOMFORTABLE]

[icasm]

Easily done, I've been told I'm stuck on this island for a week before I can even see the city properly.

[altusimperius]

Well in that case.

Lunch in the dining hall?

[icasm]

The one where there are actually people cooking and not the other, emptier one, I presume?

[altusimperius]

Yes, the one that has food.

[icasm]

Since I doubt I look much different from one world to the next I'll just wait for you to find me then.

[ He'll be found sitting more or less in the middle of the dining room, with a mug of tea and a book, which he is reading rather slowly. ]

[altusimperius]

[It's probably obvious who the voice on the other end was, based on how the young man who just entered pauses to stare in disbelief at the sight of someone he both does and doesn't know.

Words leave him, and momentarily he's an awkward twelve year old looking across the ballroom at the handsome teenage second son of House Asgard, with all the social prowess that implies.

Maybe this was a bad idea.]

[icasm]

[ It's the staring; Loki has a sixth sense for when people are staring at him, so he looks up from his place in the book (it's a copy of The Journal of Enchanter Wilhelm, by the by), takes in Benedict's slightly gobsmacked expression, and decides this is him.

Loki rises to his feet.

There are no cameras, no photographs of what Loki of House Asgard of Tevinter looks like, but Loki imagines it is a sight more similar to himself than the look Sylvie has taken on for herself.

If Benedict is just going to stand there, well. The party shall have to come to him, as they say. ]

I think, [ Loki begins, moving to put arm around Benedict's shoulders and turn them both back towards the door and outside, ] that perhaps the dining hall is too crowded for the nature of the conversations we may need to have, yes? You look rather as if you've seen a ghost.

[altusimperius]

I suppose I-- have, [Benedict stammers, his face flushing from tan to a darker red, possibly from the weight on his shoulders alone.

What a disaster.]

There's a room-- I've got-- um, upstairs, [he motions instead of trying to continue talking.]

[icasm]

Ah, upstairs, [ Loki says with more bravado than he feels, because sincerely? Fuck the sheer amount of stairs in this place, he's never felt so in need of a breath in his long life than he did at the top of the former Mage tower earlier. ] Hopefully not too far up, hmm? [ But Benedict has gestured and so Loki turns them in the direction of that gesture, keeping his arm where it is. ]

[altusimperius]

Well, only... four floors.

[It's impossible, but he even smells similar-- not exactly the same, since this Loki doubtless doesn't have access to the same grooming products as those made in Tevinter. But something is common between them, and that's an absolute mindfuck.

He leads the way in anxious silence, to the unstaffed lowest floor of the mage tower and then upward, to the room with his hookah.]

[icasm]

Well, that isn't so bad. [ Only four floors, but they can take them at a not-breakneck pace, and that'll be fine.

Loki is expecting a bedroom; he's surprised to see a room with several cushions and a hookah prominently placed instead. ]

Ah. [ He pats Benedict on the back and moves into the room to find the best place to sit. ] You'll have to show me how it works. [ He's never had to operate such a thing himself, after all. ] Do you sleep here?

[altusimperius]

[It is a bit strange that Loki doesn't already know how, but Bene is more than willing to oblige, leaving a crack in the door as he comes forward to begin setting up the contraption.]

No, [he admits,] well. Sometimes. [The whole undignified story can be saved for later, if at all.]

[icasm]

Not a bad place for it. Seems comfortable enough.

[ Loki watches what Benedict is doing with fascination, stopping him at one point and gesturing towards the elfroot. ] What is that? [ It's not tobacco, clearly, it smells and looks entirely different. ]

[altusimperius]

[After taking a moment to realize that what he means is the herb itself, Benedict extends the dish of dried elfroot towards Loki before he can pack some into the hookah.]

Elfroot?

[icasm]

[ Loki leans forward to pick up a small leaf, sniffing it experimentally. ]

We don't have this back home.

[ On Asgard or Midgard. But, no matter. Moving on: ]

Tell me more about entropic magic.

[altusimperius]

It's the magic of negation. Death magic. At least that's how it was explained to me.

[Snapping his fingers, Benedict lights the hookah with a small magical flame as he speaks.]

Creation is the school of healing, bolstering ranks, beneficial magic. Entropy is its opposite. Misdirection, decay, weakness, insanity. Spells that break an enemy's spirit.

[It feels strange to put it in words so plainly-- not only do people happily practice this, but it's practically a family legacy.]

[icasm]

[ Loki tilts his head as Benedict lights the hookah. ]

Not setting rugs on fire any longer, I see.

[ He smirks a little. ]

How does someone who is able to convince a dragon that things are hopeless manage to have such poor self-esteem over the matter?

[ Tell him about yourself, Benedict, because you are an enigma at this moment. ]

[altusimperius]

[It would be a difficult question to answer of anyone, but especially of Loki, whose entire presence in the world as far as Benedict is aware has existed to torment specifically him.

Maybe that's arrogant, but so be it.]

I'm,

[He pauses before he can continue, his gaze going grim and distant,]

...not well-liked.

[Another pause, his eyes cutting to meet Loki's.]

Neither are you, for that matter. At least a version of you.

[icasm]

Well. I can't say I'm surprised... about this other version of myself, not about you, you seem perfectly, well. [ He gestures in Benedict's direction. ] I suppose emotionally shell-shocked is a thing to consider, but nice otherwise.

[ Loki you can't just point out when people are clearly traumatized. Not like that anyway.

This is why he doesn't have many friends. ]

I'll simply have to convince them all that while we are alike, this world's Loki and I, we are not the same. [ Flashing a smile that looks a little manic at the edges. ] Shouldn't be too hard. [ He is, after all, the superior Loki. ]

Might take a while, though.

So why don't people like you?

[altusimperius]

[This is like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs. Benedict sucks gently at one of the hoses to get the smoke moving through it, trying not to go too fast and make himself cough. He watches Loki all the while, his expression still unavoidably suspicious.

He exhales a puff of smoke, and replies:]

Oh, because I'm a traitor and a coward.

[icasm]

[ The question is clearly on Loki's face, but what he says instead is: ]

That's a great beginning to a story.

[ Well now that he's watched Benedict do it, Loki feels fairly certain that he can manage the hookah on his own.

Of course, this means he pulls a little too hard on the hose (once he figures out which part is for that and which part is important to the hookah itself, give him a second) and ends up having quite the coughing fit. Fun times with the God of Mischeif.

Once he's done coughing, and has taken a substantially smaller pull in which he actually tastes the smoke, this time, he arches an eyebrow at Benedict. ]

Whom, exactly, have you betrayed? Not these good people? [ The idea of it shocks him (not really). The idea of sticking around afterward does though. ]

[altusimperius]

These good people.

[Another languid puff of smoke, and Benedict rests his head back on a pillow behind him, tucking his arm around it. If the other Loki has taught him anything, it's that expressing emotional vulnerability is as good as showing one's soft underbelly to a ravenous wolf.]

It was a while ago. And in order to make it right, I've betrayed my countrymen in turn.

[When asked previously, he's told people they can easily find out for themselves. In this case, it seems best coming from him, without the usual shaking and handwringing that accompanies thinking too deeply about the mess he's been in for the last three or four years.

He's too tired for that, at the moment.]

[icasm]

Well, now! Congratulations! There aren't many who would be able to pull off a deception of both parties in a war of this size and remain intact.

[ It's Loki's turn to lean back a bit, arranging himself in the pillows. 'Intact' though can be hard to quantify, he knows, but he sees no reason not to encourage the man. ]

I'm presuming, then, that your countrymen are Tevene. Do you know what you'll do if your betrayal against them comes to light?

[ The powers that be of Tevinter don't seem like they'd be pleased by a mage becoming a turncoat. ]

[altusimperius]

[That is indeed the topic of the hour.

Benedict's expression has been wry in a guarded sort of way, but any semblance of amusement drifts from it now, his gaze hard and haunted as he stares into the middle distance. He takes a pull from the hose and exhales it after a few moments, letting silence hang between them.]

I can guess.