Fade Rift Mods (
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allthisshitisweird2021-02-07 07:33 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 9:46, 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.
no subject
He isn't. He's seething, a hair's breadth away from losing whatever ounce of cool he might have. Considering the fact that he's a frost giant one might even inaccurately presume he has plenty of cool.
Of course the blond's sentiments aren't exactly unfamiliar. Hadn't Loki himself said something similarly to Thor when he became besotted with Dr. Jane Foster?
He does not enjoy the ways in which this feels like having those words tossed back in his face. Karmically appropriate, perhaps, but displeasing nonetheless.
Loki's words come out precise. Calm. He will not strangle his new friend. He will do better than that, at least. ]
I'm well aware that mortals die.
I'm well aware that the loss will hurt.
[ Were this Midgard, Loki would find some way of offering Lexie a longer lifespan. Were his own magic not limited in strange and uncomfortable ways he might simply pursue the idea on his own, here in Thedas. ]
You know nothing of what I've suffered; nothing of what pain I've held. You presume a god to know nothing of death, of loss, and you are wrong.
It is worth it, to me. What I gain is greater than what I will lose.
no subject
My mistake, of course. If you’ve suffered it before then I imagine you’re perfectly equipped to endure it all over and over and— over again.
[He tips his chin cordially, bowing low. Deferential, though he knows exactly how cruel he’s being, no efforts made to mask it.]
My sincerest apologies.
I’m used to being one of a rare few immortal creatures in my world. It does tend to evoke a certain amount of presumption on my part.
no subject
However, it will be a cold, cold day before he admits as much to Asterion.
If looks could cast magic all on their own, his gaze upon Asterion as he bows would cause frost to gather on the other man's skin. ]
I suppose one could be forgiven.
[ That is not, it should be noted, the same as Loki saying he'll forgive anything; he has no intention of doing so, and he knows that Asterion will know that too. As if bored with the topic of conversation, Loki's gaze shifts to his fingernails. ]
no subject
Is this the part where you'd like me to beg?
[A few fingers brush delicately beneath his own jaw, the back of his knuckles coming to rest just there in an elegant little surrender.]
no subject
[ He straightens his posture and looks at Asterion for a moment, comes to a decision. ]
It would be preferable if we were not at odds.
[ Which means he's going to let this go. Somewhat. He isn't going to forgive, and he damn sure isn't going to forget, but he is going to move on. ]
no subject
Why darling, have I been too harsh? [A creature of trickery, sensitive to it— imagine that.] You of all people I'd imagined capable of stomaching a little rough play.
However shall I make it up to you?
no subject
Loki rolls his eyes as opposed to voicing an answer to any of that. ]
What are we supposed to be doing for the rest of the evening?
[ Please, please Asterion, say that you're up for causing someone else trouble for a while. Preferably in Loki's company, even. ]
no subject
[He counts them off on splayed fingers, folding them after checking them off— head tilted, stare a little absent before flicking back with an easy smile.]
I'd say it's dealer's choice. You being the dealer, of course.
There's no closed doors in Orlais, after all. We could go anywhere we like.
no subject
One a little... less rigid in its rules and expectations.
[ Where do the poor people party? Presuming they do here, but in his experience poor people party plenty. Say that six times fast.
That's what he wants to know. ]
no subject
I might know a thing or two about that— but we're a touch overdressed for the occasion, darling.
[Gilded brocade, heavy embellishments— not to mention, of course, the masks they've set aside, and Astarion would weep to waste good wealth.]
no subject
[ Loki shrugs a little. Or enchanted to look different. ]
Give me an idea of what to aim for, darling, and I'll make it work.
no subject
It earns a wicked little grin of blatant approval, Astarion taking that same moment to survey the finery framing Loki’s narrow, distinguished figure.]
Something more subdued, I think. Silk and cloth are all well and good, but gold and velvet— well.
[He pulls away from the railing, presses one hand to the heart of his own doublet:]
Shall we find somewhere dark to change? ...Private perhaps?
no subject
Silk and cloth, then. Personally I would be fine changing wherever, but I suspect the party-goers would be scandalized by even the briefest public nudity in a way that would be annoying, later. Should I be changing colors as well? [ It's not his fault that Riftwatch's colors and his own personal preferences run so parallel but here they are. ]
no subject
[Astarion spreads his hands, gesturing broadly to the space that surrounds them, what remains of the party— emptied glasses and abandoned trays— still visible.]
And how could he? He was here all night.
no subject
Loki glances around at the party remnants as Astarion gestures, giving a little nod. ]
Come on then, let's raid someone's closet.
no subject
[He's staring at the estate grounds still, just a beat longer before he adds, pointedly:]
Don’t ask how I know. It’s not important.