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Fade Rift Mods ([personal profile] faderifting) wrote in [community profile] allthisshitisweird2021-10-02 11:29 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 9:47, and the war continues. An enemy force partially occupies Orlais and has decimated several Marcher Cities, while the Chantry, aided by the Inquisition, has marshaled 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. 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 newer organization that's an offshoot of the Inquisition, dubbed Riftwatch, that consists mainly of these 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. Their goal is to do what the Chantry can't or won't do, to go more directly after Corypheus and the dark magic he employs, and to keep the Veil from coming apart entirely.

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 killing you. 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. THE SIEGE OF STARKHAVEN: North of Kirkwall, Corypheus' forces have occupied Hasmal, laid waste to Tantervale, and has now besieging the city of Starkhaven. An army of Marchers led by Sebastian Vael has returned from the Exalted March to press against the Tevinter force, but Riftwatch's aid is still needed. With the assistance of Riftwatch's griffons, you might be doing aerial surveillance of the enemy force or swooping into the city to provide supplies and news to the people holding the walls, then bringing news and valuables back out to deliver to the Marcher force outside. Or you could be engaging directly by harassing enemy camps from the air or dealing with mages the Marchers are less equipped to face.

II. THE WAKING SEA: When Riftwatch isn't traveling by air (or magic mirror), it frequently travels by sea, courtesy of allied pirate ships. So welcome aboard. The sea is choppy and frequently violent—violent storms, violent enemy ships, or both at once—and the crew may not have much patience for incompetence, so either make yourself useful above or try not to get sick below.

III. 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.)

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.

lassavirus: (red sun rises like an early warning)

sorry for the delay lmao

[personal profile] lassavirus 2023-01-08 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
I've been better. But no, I'm not currently dying.

[ Beat. William cants his head to one side, eyeing the other. ]

Is that the only reason you've been watching me?

[ He addresses it directly—how could he not? Monitoring a disease threat coming in from the outside is a perfectly reasonable excuse on its own, of course, but he's not sure what other machinations may be at play here. He's new to this world, very much so. ]
misdirection_hex: (it's a fair cop)

Vandelin Emith | native mage OC | this was always his last name okay shut up

[personal profile] misdirection_hex 2023-01-15 07:48 am (UTC)(link)
I. Siege of Starkhaven

[How this particular elf made it out of occupied Hasmal and all the way to Starkhaven is a story for another time.

Vandelin had departed Kirkwall in exquisitely tasteful Orlesian menswear, selected to the best effect by Madame de Cedoux's own hand, and bearing the symbol of the Inquisition--under whose original banner this entire project had still been--visibly enough to lend him whatever authority might have been lacking in his pointed ears and mage's staff.

He returns to Riftwatch, nearly four years later, in drab alienage homespun. The finery had come in handy as third-in-command of the Diplomacy division; less so when helping to clear out the shattered remains of what had been his sister's pottery shop before the Venatori had set to it with their staves, or teaching his young nephew how to keep a mageflame steady after the boy had nearly burned the house down around their ears with a dream. A sizable percentage of Vandelin's conscience twinges at the thought of being here at all, rather than back there.

But Corypheus is hardly going to surrender Hasmal before he's prevented from taking Starkhaven. And Vandelin owes this effort in some part to his cousin-in-law, Ser Not Appearing In This Toplevel. Ashlock had stayed and tried to defend Van's city, and Myr's, for all the good it had done. Van can do the same for Simon's.

And he gets to ride a fucking griffon.]


Sweet dreams, you slave-driving fucks.

[He may be too high up for anyone to hear this, but the visual of half a campful of Vints crumpling unconscious to the dirt is somewhat harder to miss.]

III. Kirkwall

[Vandelin would not have been caught dead at the Hanged Man, last time he was in town. Vandelin has since been roughly and thoroughly disabused of all his "fancy-damn Circle airs" by his sister's husband, Maker rest the man's soul. Vandelin knows now, as well, that there are far worse things to find in a city's streets than pickpockets and muggers, and that he may as well brave those to go and find himself a drink.]

Wine, if you please. Amaranthine red if you have it, elderberry if you don't.

[okay fine, there is no actual way to beat the fancy out of Vandelin. He's not sorry.]

IV. Message

Huh. Will you look at that.

[There's no sound on the other end of the crystal as Vandelin turns it over between his fingers, because he knows good and goddamn well how to be silent on them when he needs to be, but there's a faint and distinct noise of pages being rapidly flipped through. He'd forgotten about the books.]

Were the crystals always blue? I could swear I remembered them as red.

V. Wildcard

[Hit me up! And catch me up, please, I beg you. I haven't been here since 2019.]
Edited 2023-01-15 08:20 (UTC)
sprent: (it hides such)

Kirkwall

[personal profile] sprent 2023-01-15 09:40 pm (UTC)(link)
They don't have either of those, serrah.

(It comes cheerfully enough, as Gela has decided to insert herself into this conversation out of sheer curiousity. Who wouldn't after hearing something like that. He must be rich and out of his way, which means he'll have gossip for her, or perhaps a drink if she plays her cards right.

They are more or less of similar height. Gela is perched up at the bar with her elbow on the counter, green sleeves to her wrists. She scoops a hand through her curly hair to draw it back from her face, and adds in bright, albeit oddly accented trade,)
the choices are more like: wine or ale, if you catch my drift.
elegiaque: (006)

crystal.

[personal profile] elegiaque 2023-01-16 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
If we get an influx of red crystals, we're in real trouble, ( is droll. )
misdirection_hex: (Default)

[personal profile] misdirection_hex 2023-01-16 07:27 am (UTC)(link)
I suspected as much.

[Which is not entirely a lie, in that Vandelin has a talent for expecting the worst and letting himself be pleasantly surprised, but in this case, it's more his eternal unwillingness to admit to another person that he didn't actually know something.]

But I thought I should give a famous Kirkwall landmark the benefit of the doubt.
misdirection_hex: (sweet summer child)

[personal profile] misdirection_hex 2023-01-16 07:33 am (UTC)(link)
[Vandelin had never known Gwen well enough to recognize her by voice alone after all this time, but it still rings a bell. She gets a smile out of him (not that she can see it over the crystal connection), but an audible laugh is a bit much to ask from Vandelin "Reactions Are For Weaklings" Emith.]

Honestly, it would explain the sort of things I remember people doing with them.
sprent: (under head)

[personal profile] sprent 2023-01-18 10:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Maybe you were too kind. (Gela smiles, showing teeth. No offense, of course, to the Hanged Man, or the bartender who is standing there and obviously listening to their conversation.

She adds cheerfully,)
But you're buyin', are you? I'll have whatever you're havin'.
grindset: (hour work is)

iv;

[personal profile] grindset 2023-01-21 12:34 am (UTC)(link)
[The bearer of this particular off-world accent sounds preoccupied, though clearly not enough to prevent him answering,]

I would advise against holding the red ones anywhere near your face.
portalling: ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ. (pic#15621544)

np i am even slower! this month got away from me 😤

[personal profile] portalling 2023-01-23 01:53 am (UTC)(link)
[ The question itself is more paranoid than Strange himself is accustomed to (magic had made him careless, flippant, quick to take risks since he knew he could portal right out of trouble), but he rolls with that scalpel-sharp curiosity anyway. Because it was, too, a reasonable question. ]

Not the only reason. The fact that you were shouting about pathogens and biological weapons at all— I’m from 2020s New York myself, so I’m always on the lookout for a fellow rifter who might recognise Earth and particularly an Earth after the advent of television. I had an embarrassing disagreement with some townspeople recently about germ theory. Call me homesick for minds of reason.
control: (pic#14711304)

[personal profile] control 2023-01-27 06:56 am (UTC)(link)
Rubbing her tears away feels like a fruitless attempt. Whenever she blinks or focuses on him, they return, warm as they slip down her cheeks. She feels so pathetically weak; it makes the aching pain deep within her chest feel ten times worse. This wasn't how she wanted this interaction to go — to stand crying in front of Stephen Strange in the middle of the library. Thankfully they are secluded enough that no one else has seemed to notice.

The last thing she wants is his pity or his words. Even if he means it, they feel hollow and do nothing to fill the void that threatens to tear her apart. If he were truly sorry, he would have helped her instead of letting her loneliness and desolation fester to the point she became the monster everyone thought she was.

No — it isn't his fault, and she shouldn't direct her unfettered emotions at him. After all, she is the one who decided to seclude herself away and isolate herself from the few remaining friends she had. If only she had reached out to let them know she was struggling, maybe — maybe all of this could have been prevented. But it's too late now, and she has to live with the consequences of her actions.

Scrubbing away her tears again, Wanda focuses on him. Green eyes rimmed with red, nose red, and lips swollen from the rush of blood to her face. Her gaze shifts away from his face, lingering on the scarred hand outstretched towards her. Truce. A ceasefire. Maybe even a friend again with time.

She reaches out, hesitating as she grabs his hand and curls her fingers around it. The pad of her thumb smooths over the back of his hand.

"I know," she says finally, "and I don't want to spend my time worrying and looking around every corner either."
portalling: ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴠᴇʀsᴇ ᴏf ᴍᴀᴅɴᴇss. (pic#15781106)

[personal profile] portalling 2023-01-27 05:26 pm (UTC)(link)
They shake hands. An armistice between former allies and former enemies, in a quiet library.

It would be an easier thing, a pat and simple thing, if they could simply patch over this grievance and instantly go back to how things were. But they can’t; not when he still feels that jolt of fear as Wanda’s palm touches his, not when her eyes are still red-rimmed with grief, not when that trust between them is cracked and eroded and lying in ruins.

(Can she still dig her fingers into his mind, considering how their abilities change going through that rift? Can she still splinter his psyche and make him see what she wants? He’s read that blood magic can control the minds of others, see into their dreams, summon demons. It might be possible.)

Once upon a time, he would have tried to comfort her. Extended that hand out of friendship, rather than chilly professional practicality. But it’s that brute pragmatism at work when Stephen says crisply, “We have bigger problems at hand. They’ve told you about Corypheus?”

If hundreds of heroes on Earth could set aside their grievances and all haul in the same direction to take down Thanos, then as far as he’s concerned, they’re just going to have to do the same for Corypheus.
brandingproblem: (Default)

clint barton | mcu | rifter

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2023-02-13 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
arrival
Fighting beasts and monsters might as well be second nature at this point.

The black-clad figure moves with precision, grace, determination. His sword moves through the air as if it had never heard of such a thing as resistance or friction. And while the demons that make their way out of the portal he himself seems to have just come out of are not any creature known to him, they can be hit all the same, die all the same. And in the rare times he takes a hit, he takes it well.

To Rifters with such things in their world, they might liken his getup and lightly curved blade to some modern-day samurai. To those from a certain universe, they'll recognize Ronin.

When the portal finally closes, and he wipes his blade clean, good...luck talking to him, because he's going to take a look around him, eyes the only thing seen under hood and over mask--and bolt for the nearest treeline.

not supposed to be here wherever here is bye!!!

around
No one here knows any fucking ASL because it's backwards LARP-but-real fantasy land and America doesn't even exist.

Maybe it's for the better. His sign is still kind of baby novice, and there are probably gonna have to be a lot more complicated words to explain all of this shit. He can speak just fine. That's no problem, communicating on his part. It's the understanding everyone else that fucking sucks. Because apparently he either lost his hearing aid, or this D&D campaign decided nope, that's not an allowed thing! technology bad, fire scary, Thomas Edison was a witch!, so what he's stuck with instead--

--well, they look like mini-trumpets attached to his ears by a headband, and he looks fucking stupid, he hates this, he's keeping a (different) hood up at all times, please speak up. If he doesn't reply to you, it might be because he genuinely can't hear you. (He also could be ignoring you. That's also a possibility.)

He spends plenty of time in and around Kirkwall rather than stuck in the Gallows. Arguing with merchants in trying to determine just what the technological abilities of this age are (fucking nothing, apparently, great), hanging around bars and streetcorners to pick up on the gossip he can actually hear, alights on rooftops much to the chagrin of anyone that bothers looking up.

He likes the heights around the Gallows towers, too. Don't be surprised if you catch him making nice with the griffons, or see a figure go by your window.

gosh i love arrows
Out in the field, hearing issues aside, he's an excellent scout. There's nothing magical about his sight, but it's sharp. Given that he's also a sharpshooter along with his blade skills, maybe that comes as no real shock. The moment a bow is placed in his hand, he's in his element, and some of the shots he makes are charitably called improbable, rather than impossible.

Never going to want for some prey to cook while out camping, at the very least.

It is also entirely probable that he's making some coin on the side through bets on what he can hit with what and how. Word gets around fairly quickly not to take said bets.

He also spends some time in whatever closest passes for an armory with some scrounged or bought supplies, working on his own improvements to bows, to arrows, the heads of them, the weight of the shaft. Tests them out later when he thinks he's happy with them. He gets very focused about it; try not to sneak up on him maybe.

book
How long will it take the green magic in my hand to kill me?

you know, just positive vibes here............
heirring: (rather clever)

book

[personal profile] heirring 2023-02-14 12:46 am (UTC)(link)
What an excellent question!

It differs. That anchor is in your hand and not in a more delicate position however is promising for your longevity. Indeed, in happy news, the sample size for deaths caused by the anchor is quite small.

And we may cut your hand off for you at any time should it begin to irritate you overmuch.
brandingproblem: (like a really nice guy)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2023-02-14 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
Is the sample size small because there aren't a lot of people who have fallen out of mystery portals, or is it because they've died by other means?

I kind of need this hand.
heirring: (Default)

[personal profile] heirring 2023-02-14 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
Are you a Rifter? If that's the case then you have almost nothing to worry about at all. Rest assured that it's far more likely you will be reabsorbed back into the Fade than either killed by your anchor or on the field.

[Heartening!]
brandingproblem: (like a really nice guy)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2023-02-14 02:08 am (UTC)(link)
Elaborate on reabsorbed

[because hi hello alarming!!!!!!!! that is an alarming word to use!!!!!!]
heirring: ([096])

[personal profile] heirring 2023-02-14 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
Disappeared. Inconstituted. Returned from whence you came.

It is very likely that you are a kind of reflection of you former self as translated through the Fade. As a result, Rifters sometimes become untethered from Thedas and are

Unmade, for lack of a better word.
brandingproblem: (I can do this all day)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2023-02-14 12:32 pm (UTC)(link)
So I'm a clone that's going to just melt away on a whim?
heirring: ([089])

[personal profile] heirring 2023-02-14 03:23 pm (UTC)(link)
That is certainly one theory, in effect. Though there are of course other theories, albeit ones with significantly less proper evidence.

There's a theory I'm rather fond of which suggests that a Rifter can be tethered here in Thedas by way of their various connections to it. It has historically been much rarer for a Rifter with good friends and relations here to disappear. Obviously there are exceptions, but take Madame de Cedoux for example (to whom the theory must be attributed) or Provost Stark for example. So take heart! You might only require to find yourself two or three close companions to be perfectly secure here for quite some time.

(Cutting your hand off may help with that issue as well. The disappearing one, I mean. I've no idea if it will make you more desirable as a friend.)
brandingproblem: (Default)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2023-02-14 03:41 pm (UTC)(link)
[This is like...a more chipper and oldtimey-er version of Strange. It's weird.]

Is there a theory where I, the me that I am right now, get to go home, the place where I the me that I am right now think I came from?
heirring: ([047])

[personal profile] heirring 2023-02-14 04:04 pm (UTC)(link)
You mean permanently, I presume?
brandingproblem: (Default)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2023-02-14 04:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Is there a nonpermanent way??
heirring: ([030])

[personal profile] heirring 2023-02-14 04:21 pm (UTC)(link)
Not physically. But some Rifters have reported experiencing visions of their own worlds through dreaming—which is one of the most common ways that a person here in Thedas may find themselves in contact with the places beyond the Veil—as if they'd returned and lived there again.

With respect to a permanent return—

I believe that's the theory most Rifters find preferable regarding their disappearances, though obviously there is little in the way of confirmation save perhaps for Miss Niehaus (and even in that case, I have my reservations). I don't yet know of any way of intentionally bringing in that state, however.
brandingproblem: (I can do this all day)

[personal profile] brandingproblem 2023-02-14 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Well

[And then it seems like the pen just sits there for a few long moments on the last pull of the 'l', turning into a small blot. New line, then. Since this one's a little fucked.]

Thanks for the honesty.
Still not looking to take off my hand at any rate.
heirring: (rather clever)

[personal profile] heirring 2023-02-14 04:41 pm (UTC)(link)
You're quite welcome.

Mister Dickerson and myself are doing some work with lyrium to see if there's an alternative way of stabilizing the anchor's growth. If you would like to be involved in the study, you would be most welcome. Although there is a long waiver. And the Provost is required to approve the involvement of any new Rifter.