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allthisshitisweird2021-10-02 11:29 pm
faderifting) wrote in allthisshitisweird2021-10-02 11:29 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 9:47, 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.
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.
john constantine | constantine (2005) | rifter
[ hit me with whatever, or contact me at
kirkwall docks
Because the other man is a mess, and someone actively bleeding is far more interesting than the usual sights: dock workers loading up supplies for the Gallows, the occasional pack animal hauling more. And so Strange finds himself suffering that itch between conflicting instincts — the first wants to roll up his sleeves and don the mantle of a doctor and make sure there’s no permanent damage — the other doesn’t want to infantilise a stranger or get involved in something which is absolutely none of his business, actually. A stranger and likely a Riftwatch colleague, considering they’re both standing on that jetty as the wind cuts through them and waiting, shoulders hunched, to head back to their little island.
“Bar brawl or something else entirely?” he finds himself asking after a moment, by way of reply.
sorry this is so late, rl/mh buried me
Still, the question the other man opts for is enough to catch a wry spark of humour, and John glances at him with a raised eyebrow.
"Why, I look like the kind of guy that'd get into something else?"
Muffled, a little, by the half-blood-soaked handkerchief's continued, necessary presence.
+ CRYSTAL PROMPT
[And with the wry tone of someone who knows they're asking something they probably shouldn't be:]
Speaking hypothetically.
no subject
[This voice in the rock is likewise wry, specifically because he's asked many a question of that very same variety, himself, and will continue to do so in the future.]
In all likelihood, you're getting a good look because you've just dispatched one and it's about to enter a state of matter-energy conversion, or because it's in the process of attacking you. Either way: briefly.
no subject
You missed the part on how I get attacked, or do the attacking. [A beat.] Hypothetically.
no subject
How interactive should this description be? Do you want to roll dice?
no subject
[50% his usual asshole self, 50% real frustration = 100% bombing any chance of anyone helping him.]
no subject
[A substantial pause occurs here.]
Interesting. Anyway, you're obviously new here—welcome to Thedas, [he adds, in the precise tone of a guy briefly lifting his fingers away from his forehead to gesture at no one—] so we can blame whoever picked you up for leaving such a critical hole in your knowledge. Why, exactly, do you want this?
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Good. Then imagining its mysterious contents will keep me entertained for a while.
no subject
no subject
They come through open rifts—tears in the field that enables our perceptible reality—the same as you and I. Through weakened areas, sometimes. Through people.
no subject
Sounds like you've got a professional curiosity in it, too.
[Because that didn't sound like a layperson's knowledge on the matter.]
no subject
More so in the technical aspects of magic, but yes, very much so. Spirits, the Veil, enchantment... it's all interconnected.
no subject
We should talk.
no subject
[This sounds a bit flatter. He knows what request is likely coming—and will likely oblige it, in spite of his tone.]
siege
She's not used to being crept up on. She's the one that does the creeping up on, arriving so suddenly it unnerves people. That's the way she likes it. It is, so far, not fun being in Riftwatch. Not that she arrived looking for fun. But still.
"We are not paid to be enjoying the view."
Really, by her standards, they are hardly being paid. A few coins? Spit in the face. With great aloofness, Fivera turns to look out over the scene spread before them. Smoke and rooftops and firelight and an army. Her knees are very stiff. She has been sitting in her crouch for too long. She stays where she is, determined to show no weakness.
"What is in the bag?"
no subject
Not that he isn't, but Riftwatch's standard stipend seems more like apology money for him being stuck here - and a slightly resentful apology, at that. But it wasn't like his expenses were the same as they'd been in LA. No $100 shirts, for one.
The increasing wreckage of the besieged city below them shows how his troubles aren't the same, either.
"Supplies," he says, as he finally turns his back on the view to look at her. Pauses, instincts unsettled for a moment, but he's pretty sure he can still tell when he's looking at something actually undead vs. whatever's going on with her. "Looks like you need them."
no subject
She holds in place. Counts to five. Good. That's demonstrated her willpower; that's enough, she can give in now, and she unfolds enough to lean over and grab the handle of the satchel, drag it closer.
"I don't look like anything." Pointed. Stop looking. She flips open the top and pokes inside of it, examining what she's been brought. "You are critical of the stipend. This means you are doing this," and she jerks her head toward the hazy smoke and distant fires, around which are grouped people, enemies of this cause that they're saddled with, "out of the goodness of your heart?"
no subject
Not that he's sure she'd know or care about that much. Definitely an odd one here, and that was saying something, considering the menagerie of Riftwatch's members.
"I usually save the moral character and motivation examination until at least date five." It's delivered deadpan, a touch of wry humour to the tip of his head. Easy, well-practiced in evasion.
no subject
Without looking, she pulls a heel of bread from the sack and bites into it.
"I will not need five dates. I can guess very much about you from that statement. No," correcting herself, "I can guess enough to know enough."
She takes another bite of bread.