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Fade Rift Mods ([personal profile] faderifting) wrote in [community profile] allthisshitisweird2023-05-02 05:40 pm
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Test Drive!

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 9:49, 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.) an organization, dubbed Riftwatch, that split off from the Inquisition several years ago. Riftwatch consists 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.

NOTE: This is a static test drive! We post them once per year or so and continue to use them for a long time, so you're never late. Current players are encouraged to track new top-level comments.


I. THE FREE MARCHES: Hasmal, Tantervale, and most recently Starkhaven have all fallen to the Tevinter incursion, leaving Kirkwall the largest city-state in the Free Marches to remain unoccupied. For Riftwatch, that means the war is closer to home than ever, and traveling anywhere north of the mountains runs the risk of running into enemy scouting parties. Perhaps you've been sent out to find these scouts before they find the unwary, or perhaps you're just trying to pass through unnoticed to Antiva or Rivain when you run into trouble. Or maybe you're more in the thick of it: joining the Free Marches armies in harassing the occupying army as best they can from outside the city, or slipping your way into one of them to gather intelligence or meet with an ally.

II. THE WAKING SEA: When Riftwatch isn't traveling by griffon or magic mirror, it frequently travels by sea, courtesy of a small assortment 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 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.

axetrovert: (9)

[personal profile] axetrovert 2023-11-05 02:29 am (UTC)(link)
'Cause they're a real significant hair up the Venatori's collective arse, and I'd love to give it a good yank.

So I'm joining. Assuming they'll have me. And-

[Also.

Karlach reaches up and gestures at the glow in her chest.]


Heard you've got some real smart folks over there. Maybe they can find their way to doing something about this.
laruetheday: robins @ insanejournal (by night? i do whatever i want. no job.)

[personal profile] laruetheday 2023-11-05 02:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ Clarisse sounds a little doubtful when she says, ] Maybe.

[ Then again, Research is looking into all sorts of things that she doesn't understand and doesn't really want to. So maybe this woman is right and she can get her... problem dealt with back at the Gallows. ]

But it's not like they won't let you join up, if that's what you really want. [ She scratches at her temple and admits, ] We can use all the help we can get, to be honest. As long as you're not going to get us ambushed or something.

[ Again. ]
axetrovert: (10)

[personal profile] axetrovert 2023-11-05 03:28 am (UTC)(link)
[Despite Clarisse's answer, Karlach looks heartened by the reply. It's a way forward, and a path means she won't be forced to claw one out herself.]

Fair. There is at least one bounty on my head. Zariel's doing, no doubt.

[A slight hesitation, and Karlach rests on her back foot, narrowing one eye at Clarisse and tipping her head.]

Assuming of course that. That's why you attacked me. Because sometimes it's just the horns.
laruetheday: and the grand canyon. (crying: acceptable at funerals.)

[personal profile] laruetheday 2023-11-05 03:44 am (UTC)(link)
[ Clarisse looks offended by the implication that she might be, like, racist against people with horns. Excuse you, her godson has them too. And they make him ten times cuter, for the record. ]

You have a bounty on you because you're a murderer. That's what we were told.

[ She heaves a heavy sigh, because this was going to be a very cut and dry mission and now it's weirdly complicated. It's fine. It'll... probably be fine. ]

We'll just bring you back and you can explain yourself to the bosses.
axetrovert: (11)

[personal profile] axetrovert 2023-11-05 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
[Karlach's heartened by the reaction. Anger instead of squirmy guilt is a good enough answer for her any day. Unfortunately, the average Marcher isn't as open minded as Clarisse is. And they'll see more of it when they get to Kirkwall.]

Well -- splitting hairs, that.

[But as they start, Karlach's face softens down to something heartfelt.]

Thank you. I won't forget this, you know.
armd: (the majestic of the henley)

[personal profile] armd 2023-11-05 06:01 am (UTC)(link)
What?

(Wait a second. Surely she's going there to kill all of them, though, judging by the content of her bounty. Abby stopped in her tracks at this, still staring out across the chantry she had falsely labeled and she has to jog to catch her up again.)

What are you joining them for?
laruetheday: robins @ insanejournal (my goal is to run to the moon.)

[personal profile] laruetheday 2023-11-05 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Noooo don't acknowledge that she's being a good person!!! So uncomfortable. ]

It's nothing.

[ For a second Clarisse starts to extend a hand, but then she remembers the imminent third degree burns and awkwardly drops it back to her side. ] Clarisse La Rue. Forces.
coquettish_trees: (windblown)

Alexandrie d'Asgard | Native OC, Bad Penny, will match prose or brackets ♥

[personal profile] coquettish_trees 2023-11-06 10:09 pm (UTC)(link)
III. Kirkwall docks, after curfew

Silver is no longer enough, then?

[ The source of the clipped Orlesian-accented irritation is a woman wearing a mud spattered travelling dress and cloak, obviously of extremely fine make beneath their earthy adornments. She draws the cloak tighter around her shoulders as if it could shield her from the affront of whatever the ferryman has told her as well as it does the autumn chill. Acidly: ]

Your predecessor found it perfectly amenable.

[ The ferryman is not as loud as she is, but from the arms folding across his chest he appears to be every bit as stubborn. Her voice cuts through the night again, sharp enough to draw blood. ]

Non, I do not have a crystal, if I did, I—

[ The tirade cuts off abruptly, and then she straightens and turns to look directly at you. Bright copper curls teased out by the wind frame a lovely face made lovelier by the immaculate application of her cosmetics, and a bit less lovely by the stormcloud of her expression. Eyes like the ocean, intent as a hawk, whether or not you want it you've got her attention now. ]


IV. Enchanted Book

[ You were having a civilized conversation, or at least what passes for one here, and now there are flowers. Whatever it is you write, soon enough afterwards it's being illuminated. Granted, whoever it is is an accomplished artist, but your point is perhaps a little bit undermined by all those twining vines and sprays of Andraste's Grace and— is that a bird nesting in your 'o'?

Or perhaps you like it!

...Either way, it's happening. ]



V. Wildcard

[ Would you could you in Kirkwall? Would you could you at a ball? At a battle, in a brawl, come at ya girl I'll write it all. ♥ ]
Edited 2023-11-06 22:09 (UTC)
altusimperius: (:3)

III

[personal profile] altusimperius 2023-11-06 10:29 pm (UTC)(link)
[Someone else has missed the ferry, as he is increasingly wont to do these days. Benedict is slumped, quite drunk and Maker knows what else, against a post by the dock, cloak wrapped around himself as he gazes glassy-eyed out at the water. And now at Alexandrie, the look on whose face immediately activates his fight-or-flight response. He can't do either. Too comfy.

He offers an innocent little smirk instead.]

Didn't you have a house? [he asks drily.]
elegiaque: (104)

iii.

[personal profile] elegiaque 2023-11-06 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
( the sound of that voice—

probably, gwenaëlle had had plans of some kind; there must have been a reason that she was over at the docks, likely temporarily. but whatever it was, it wasn't work related enough to take priority over hurrying towards what she's certain she's heard correctly, fumbling a coin purse at her waist to thrust a handful of definitely more coins than are warranted at the ferryman and collide with alexandrie full-body force.

it makes it difficult to immediately make out the brief glimpse of significant change — that golden eye — when she buries her face in alexandrie's shoulder at once, the familiar scent of her perfume oil momentarily overpowering with her hair loose and her cloak hanging around them both by her embrace.
)

Did you write you were coming?

( —muffled, into hair and fabric. )

Did I miss it? I would have been ready—
coquettish_trees: (beach hat 1)

Re: III

[personal profile] coquettish_trees 2023-11-06 11:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ It takes a moment longer for Alexandrie's gaze to pierce through the barriers of that cloak and slump than it does for her to recognize the Altus by his voice alone.

So isolated from the denizens and movements and world of Riftwatch as she'd been in the Orlesian countryside, it had not truly occurred to her until this moment that time had passed for everyone else as well. That it had, perhaps, been a difficult year for them all. She turns fully around, walks to join him. ]


I did.

[ It's said far gentler than the last words had come spitting out of her mouth, and the hard glint in her eyes has softened as well. ]

But, to my knowledge, the Ambassador is not in it.
altusimperius: (smoke)

[personal profile] altusimperius 2023-11-06 11:24 pm (UTC)(link)
No. [A small shake of his head, which he leans back against the post, raising a cigarette to take a long, weary drag from it.] Probably not.

He's also not the Ambassador anymore.
coquettish_trees: (hug 2)

Re: iii.

[personal profile] coquettish_trees 2023-11-06 11:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Alexandrie staggers a bit beneath the force of the embrace, shocked to silence and stillness. Then, that scent suddenly in her world again, time breaks open and Alexandrie's arms fly around the woman who'd crashed into her to hold as tightly as she can, ferryman and urgency forgotten as she buries her face in the unbound hair of her dearest friend. ]

I—

[ It's thick with feeling, muffled too. ]

I did not. Could not. It—

[ Softer still, strained, the all too familiar sound of an Alexandrie who has been crumbling away for some time beneath the perfection of her porcelain veneer, finally in a place safe enough to let it show. ]

Everything has gone so wrong, Gigi.
elegiaque: (019)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2023-11-06 11:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Come across with me,

( it takes her a moment to lean back enough to make that an immediate prospect— reluctant to disentangle, but needing to if they mean to go anywhere, talk privately. she presses her thumbs beneath lexie's eyes, holding her face in her hands, smiles, watery— )

You're here, now. We'll sort it out.

( the sort of blind confidence that's best achieved by only having one good eye. she links their elbows, familiar, pointing across the harbour with her free hand to a moderately ominous looking vessel tied up in a slip by the Gallows, )

La Souveraineté is prettier on the inside. I have wine. We can talk.
overharrowed: (endlessly kneeling)

[personal profile] overharrowed 2023-11-06 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
When the Ferelden-accented voice says "...Madame d'Asgard?" it's mostly surprise, but not unpleasant. Enchanter Julius, whose eyes she meets, looks very much the same; he's not wearing robes, but the staff on his back means he's hardly trying not to look like a mage, and he's as neatly put together as he always was. (If she looks close, maybe his sandy hair is tending a little more gray at the temples; maybe he looks worn in a way he didn't when she was here last.)

"I'm sure we can get you over, I'm heading back that way." Even if they'd never been close, she'd worked on his project and he'd always liked her, and he has no need to feign being quietly glad to see her. More than that, considering the past few months, someone's face unexpectedly reappearing is a welcome change.
coquettish_trees: (genuine)

[personal profile] coquettish_trees 2023-11-07 12:27 am (UTC)(link)
[ So much all at once becoming real. There is the boat they'd written about, although it's too dark to see the glitter Romain had insisted upon. Then there are Gwenaëlle's eyes, one of them shining with the dampness of emotion, one of them shining an entirely different way that they hadn't written about, and for all the letters they'd exchanged, there is suddenly also their year of untold stories— hers, Gwenaëlle's— slamming into Alexandrie's heart with enough force to push out the breath remaining in her. She thinks, for a moment, that she must have wings made of that breath blossoming from her back as it leaves.

There are things she wants to say. All sorts of things she wants to say. To ask, to know, to have known.

But feeling safe and being safe are very often disparate things, and so all she does for the moment is lean forward to press a kiss to Gwenaëlle's forehead and say ]


It is so good to see you, Gigi. [and then, in a conspiratorial stage whisper, ] Take me to your wine immediately.
coquettish_trees: (sympathetic)

[personal profile] coquettish_trees 2023-11-07 12:34 am (UTC)(link)
[ Up go her eyebrows, swiftly, and then just as swiftly into a little frown of curiosity. ]

By his choice?
elegiaque: (085)

[personal profile] elegiaque 2023-11-07 12:34 am (UTC)(link)
( the relief of reunion is real; it will be all the realer, behind a locked door, only them. not far, then— a short trip across the harbour, hands clasped like children and their knees pressed together in the ferry, the short walk not up to the imposing structure of the gallows but cutting sideways to step back onto the (now familiar to her) tilt of her houseboat on the water. it is dark and strange and if she described it as prettier on the inside, there's pride in her expression before they reach that.

she finds it rather beautiful as it is, but alexandrie knows her well; she has a soft spot for terrible things that's never been blind to them.

it is warm and intimate and polished inside, lit with elaborately decorated hanging lanterns, and gwenaëlle bundles her directly into the gallery nearest the foyer (past the portrait of a beautiful elven woman who can only be her mother, and which must have been painted for her father), where the cushioned conversation pit takes up most of the room but for a ledge running its full exterior, the walls taken up with art pieces (some, lexie's own) interspersed by high windows. she flings her cloak carelessly, going to a latched cabinet,
)

Tell me the whole of it, ( she instructs, fetching bottle, glasses, ) and you know—

you can stay, if you need.

( needn't, if she doesn't, but it's important she know. there is always a safe place for her to land. )
altusimperius: (Default)

[personal profile] altusimperius 2023-11-07 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
[The glowing tip of the cigarette bobs beneath the hood, in a nod.]
cozen: (n196)

v.

[personal profile] cozen 2023-11-07 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
[ By the time Bastien has her in his line of sight, she has been back a day. Perhaps two, depending on how much of the first she spent being difficult to find. On that note, perhaps three.

Enough time for him to know she's here and to sit alone for a little while with the stew of feelings—mixed but warm, you know, only a few chewy or slimy pieces in the bowl—that arrived with her. Enough time for her to have had any number of other conversations with other people and to know nearly anything new he might be able to tell her.

Their little Lowtown house, hardly lived in a week. Before that, Byerly's resignation. Before that, Byerly's temporary death, which is of course fine now. All patched up.

But what no one else could have told her even if they cared to is that in the undone time before it was fine, Bastien wrote her a letter, terse and desolate: He's gone. I don't know what to do. Don't come here. I'll come to you. If things had taken a little longer to be set right then the letter might have reached her (before it too was undone) and a few weeks later Bastien would have washed up onto her doorstep, too.

Now it has doubly never happened. It is only a vague plan born from a months-old feeling in a world that doesn't exist anymore. It animates him all the same, though, when he catches a glimpse of her hair and she stops being the vague idea of Alexandrie Back In Kirkwall. He's swift down the stairs cut into the side of the Gallows' wall. He says, ]


Alexandrie,

[ seeing as he's coming from behind her—hurrying briefly away from her, due to the direction of the stairs—and he would prefer not to be stabbed today, just before he plants a hand and hops over the pony wall protecting the stairs so he can skip the last ten of them and go the right direction instead. The warning (and the thud of his feet, then the slap slap of running after her, of course) leaves plenty of time for her to turn around before he's there and hugging her not a single ounce of deferential propriety. ]
coquettish_trees: (worried)

[personal profile] coquettish_trees 2023-11-07 12:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ ...Maybe a successful bribing of the ferryman would have done little to advance her cause after all. ]

Does he still keep rooms at the Gallows?

[ A pause, a slightly deeper frown. ]

Do you?
coquettish_trees: (hat happy)

[personal profile] coquettish_trees 2023-11-07 01:13 am (UTC)(link)
"Enchanter!" It's an exclamation of polite delight, all the irritation of moments ago sliding from her like so much water off a swan's back. If Alexandrie's year has given her any gray hairs anywhere— which by rights it ought have— they have been fastidiously plucked, dyed, or hidden. She looks much the same, if a bit ill-treated by the road.

"How fortunate for me that you have had a late night." And then, her delight coloured with concern, "I hope not unfortunate for you?"
bouchonne: (trippin balls)

[personal profile] bouchonne 2023-11-07 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
[ She's like an apparition. For a moment, he thinks he actually might be hallucinating, so unexpected is this beloved sight. He had dreamed of her so often, of course. It had been heartbreaking to then go about his day and know she was far away, far out of reach. So seeing her here now, with no warning, in such an ordinary way, makes him wonder if this is some false vision, some fade spirit, a dream indeed. ]

You're -

[ His voice is low and choked. ]

Here.
coquettish_trees: (oh really?)

Re: v.

[personal profile] coquettish_trees 2023-11-07 01:41 am (UTC)(link)
[ The number of days, whichever it is, is an entirely unsuspicious one. One crafted not by what would I do, but what would I be expected to do; a one-woman show for an as yet unknown audience. And how would Bastien be cast? A friend, a dear one, even, but also the love and lover of her love and lover... and if whoever watches has been watching for long enough to know what would keep her in Val Fontaine, they will have watched long enough to see her covet Byerly Rutyer as jealously as the ocean does the ships it wrecks and takes to hold forever in its depths. And so Alexandrie waits.

And so does Bastien.

And then finally there he is, and there they are, and she's swept up in his arms and smelling the cigarette smoke in his hair, and returning the embrace fiercely, and if her shriek of surprised laughter rings too loud and bright to be entirely sincere, the smile that follows and the warmth and relief in her eyes are real. ]


Oh là, Bastien!

[ She raises her hands between their bodies where they are hidden by his arms, lays them on his chest to gently push them apart and free herself—

And signs being watched there against him while she smiles, playfully scolds. ]


We may celebrate my visit without wrinkling my dress!
overharrowed: (marble statutes and glass dividers)

[personal profile] overharrowed 2023-11-07 02:07 am (UTC)(link)
He smiles properly when it's clear she's pleased to see him. "Not at all. A diplomacy assignment that ran a bit late. I thought I might have to stay in Kirkwall overnight, but I slipped out in time, and I'd generally rather sleep in my own bed if I can."

He offers her a hand, friendly, with a brief glance at the ferryman that clearly expects him to correct his attitude now that a known member of Riftwatch is present to confirm everything is as it should be.

"But it is good to see you. Are you here for a visit or a more extended return, or do you know yet?"