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allthisshitisweird2021-02-07 07:33 pm
faderifting) wrote in allthisshitisweird2021-02-07 07:33 pm
Entry tags:
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 9:46, 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.
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.
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[ 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. ]
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Elfroot?
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We don't have this back home.
[ On Asgard or Midgard. But, no matter. Moving on: ]
Tell me more about entropic magic.
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[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.]
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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. ]
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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.
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[ Loki you can't just point out when people are clearly traumatized. Not like that anyway.
This is why he doesn't have
manyfriends. ]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?
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He exhales a puff of smoke, and replies:]
Oh, because I'm a traitor and a coward.
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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. ]
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[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.]
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[ 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. ]
no subject
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.
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[ Loki takes another pull from the hookah and attempts at making a smoke ring. Takes him a few tries, but he manages it. ]
Do you think these people would protect you, should the need arise?
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Some will. Would. ...probably.
[His stomach tightens at the thought of not only the topic at hand, but how his conversation went with Byerly. Counting his allies is not productive.]
But you don't want to hear about that.
[He angles his head lazily.]
Tell me about your world, then.
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[ Just don't think he's forgotten about that hesitation, that probably. He can imagine that the other version of himself would never extend his neck out for this man.
So clearly the first place to start in his Superior Loki Greatest Hits meets Thedas project is finding out more about how to protect Benedict. From a distance, unless direct intervention is required. ]
Ah, Asgard. The bastion of peace amongst the Nine Realms. What do you want to know about it?
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Asgard is a place?
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It's gone, now. [ More or less. ]
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Tentatively, he asks:]
...how?
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It doesn't work as well as he'd like. But he does feel... strange anyway. He blinks, slowly, taking another thoughtful pull. ]
Ragnarok. [ That's not an answer and he knows it, just... give him a moment. ] A prophesized end to Asgard, in which a Fire Demon named Surtur destroys the planet.
[ He's going to zoom right over the fact that it was his fault Surtur was resurrected on Asgard in the first place. He wasn't there, not really. He can avoid that neatly by the construction of time variance, right?
Right. ]
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Huh.
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My turn for a question: what convinced you not to remain a traitor for your homeland?
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He thinks about the question for a moment, staring at the ceiling with smoke drifting up from his nostrils.]
...Colin, [he resolves, frowning, trying not to let it hurt.]
A healer. He's off to the front now. When I thought I'd be executed the next day, he sat with me all night, just so I wouldn't be alone.
[He purses his lips.]
I'd never known that sort of kindness could be... I don't know. Real. Expecting nothing in return.
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If it's not, and he's say, dying, he doesn't want to know about it right now. Weird thought to have, but okay. ]
I hope Colin is the attractive sort, at least.
[ He opens his eyes and winks at Benedict.
That sort of kindness is often rather unreal, in Loki's experience. Either someone is lying, or someone is good. Either way? Unreal. ]
But I'm glad you left the experience with your neck intact. [ Otherwise they wouldn't be able to talk now. ] It's your turn for a question.
[ They're having a round-robin, apparently. ]
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[A little smile twitches onto Bene's mouth in response to that wink, but it's too gloomy to be properly mischievous; Colin is attractive, but that's another conversation that takes a lot of unpacking, effort expended when all he has wanted to do for days is lie here, like this, and smoke.
His limbs have begun to feel heavy, his skin warm and electric, as the stresses of the day drift out and away.]
Here, you're the son of a Magister, like me, [he muses,] but a second son. Not the scion. Like me.
[He angles his head to look at him.] Are you still? Nobility?
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[ He's getting confused by the placement of words, there, but then raises his eyebrows. ]
I'm a Prince. A god, by some humans' measure.
[ An easy shrug. ] I have been alive for a very long time for the record.
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