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allthisshitisweird2016-04-16 01:02 pm
faderifting) wrote in allthisshitisweird2016-04-16 01:02 pm
Entry tags:
TEST DRIVE MEME!
WHAT A GLOOORIOUS FEELING
How’s the weather, Inquisition? Terrible. Heavy rainfall pelts the plains and the mountains, four straight days of it! Dark clouds block out the sun. It may begin to feel like there’s no end to the storms in sight. When darkness falls, cold evening temperatures turn that rain frigid. Your boots, your socks, they’re soaked through. Everyone smells like wet wool.
And as if all that weren’t enough: the increased rainfall loosens patches of mud and shale, causing mudslides.
1. We’re not in Orzammar anymore…
2. Are you mad? That’s twelve year old scotch!
3. I gotta go, Julia, we got bears.
4. We got 12 skins of water, 56 ales, two vodkas, four whiskeys, six bottles of wine, tequila, hazelnut paste, cheese, bread, eggs, bananas, apples, bacon, steaks, pancakes, dry grain, milk, sweet tomato sauce, half a pudding, half-ounce Sour Wine, 3 1/2 grams Grand Inquisitor Kush, one ounce of 'shrooms, 15 ecstasy potions, a smutty woodcut, a bat…
5. Lots of fish… and lots of weather.
WE'RE STILL IN THE HINTERLANDS
How’s the weather, Inquisition? Terrible. Heavy rainfall pelts the plains and the mountains, four straight days of it! Dark clouds block out the sun. It may begin to feel like there’s no end to the storms in sight. When darkness falls, cold evening temperatures turn that rain frigid. Your boots, your socks, they’re soaked through. Everyone smells like wet wool.
And as if all that weren’t enough: the increased rainfall loosens patches of mud and shale, causing mudslides.
1. We’re not in Orzammar anymore…
A recent group of dwarven traders bearing fine crafts and goods were inbound for Skyhold, ready to flood the markets with their wares. Instead, they got flooded out.
Yes, word has reached the Inquisition that the traders have been unfortunately detained by the weather and they are now in need of a rescue. Dare you venture out into the lashing rain and sliding mud to rescue the traders?
If you do so dare, you’ll find some of the traders to be exceedingly grateful for your efforts, ready to bestow handsome rewards on you, O Brave Soul -- just as soon as you’ve escorted them safely back to Skyhold. Or you might find a cluster of more disagreeable traders, grumpy at the water in their boots and the loss of their goods. Some of those goods might still be rescuable, if you want to wade out into a mud field to retrieve a fallen chest, or tug an errant terrified donkey back onto what’s passing for dry road these days.
As you carry these treasures back to their masters, or back to Skyhold, you might consider helping yourself to a sampling of the wares on your way back. After all, your reward might not be adequate, and you are risking your life for these ungrateful sons of mothers. Just don’t get caught. These traders don’t look kindly on thieves, and frayed tempers snap easily.
Feel free to get stuck on your way to the rescue, too. Weather out the storm with a fellow do-gooder. These days, the rescuers might need rescuing just as much.
2. Are you mad? That’s twelve year old scotch!
In Skyhold and the surrounding tent towns, what with the confusion and the panic and the scramble for high ground, market stalls are left unattended and wares are ripe for the taking. For some, temptation proves to be too much. Where there’s disaster, there’s often looting! A few vendors defend their own wares, and those that can’t make desperate entreaties for assistance. Bandits! Thieves!
Are you a brave and hale friend to the Inquisition and to good honest trade, ready to defend the wares of the waterlogged merchants? Or maybe your sticky fingers spot a tempting treasure too great to ignore. If they didn’t want it stolen, they should have taken it with them! Watch out for that Qunari metalsmith with the mean right hook. He’s not to be trifled with, and his blow will leave you toothless in the mud.
3. I gotta go, Julia, we got bears.
The rainfall has disturbed more than the mud. Bears, resting in their caves, have found their caves to be too damp for their liking, and they’ve taken to the open air to vent their spleens. Some people say that the bears are as frightened as you are, but when you’re faced with a six hundred pound beast with huge pointy teeth, their innocence is a little harder to keep in perspective.
The tents surrounding greater Skyhold are especially worried by rogue bears. Make a stand against them, or else help evacuate a threatened campsite. Mudwrestling a bear is a great way to impress the ladies, or the gentlemen… but no one will blame you for beating a hasty retreat.
4. We got 12 skins of water, 56 ales, two vodkas, four whiskeys, six bottles of wine, tequila, hazelnut paste, cheese, bread, eggs, bananas, apples, bacon, steaks, pancakes, dry grain, milk, sweet tomato sauce, half a pudding, half-ounce Sour Wine, 3 1/2 grams Grand Inquisitor Kush, one ounce of 'shrooms, 15 ecstasy potions, a smutty woodcut, a bat…
TIME TO HUNKER DOWN. In the tavern, the barkeep is handing out free spiced wine to anyone who takes refuge behind her door. The din of conversation and lutesong makes a fine lullabye for the careworn traveler, and you might find yourself inadvertently dropping off to sleep. Or maybe someone’s fallen asleep on you.
Who can blame the slumberers, finally safe and warm and dry? In the tavern, the fires have been built up to ward off the chill and the damp, but relaxation is a little more difficult these days. You really have to elbow your way in there to get close to that warmth. Once you get close enough, you’ll find that the hearths are taken up with dozens and dozens of wet socks and wetter boots, steaming gently as they dry. Be disgusted if you want, or else peel off your own and go barefoot while you wait.
Hey! What’s going on over there? Someone’s taking one of your socks! Stop, thief!
If you can’t make it to the tavern, you might find yourself holed up somewhere a little more unlikely. The limited space within Skyhold means there aren’t a lot of free rooms. That door you shoulder open in desperation might have an owner already. Intrusions aren’t always unwelcome, but beware of what -- or who! -- you might find.
5. Lots of fish… and lots of weather.
WILDCARD. Whatever you do, just remember: there’s a lot of rain, you’re very wet, and if you’re feeling amorous, keep in mind that everyone smells like wet wool. We cannot stress this enough.
the outsider | dishonored | rifter
[ The people in this strange new land seem completely unused to weather of this specific magnitude. At the very least, they seem completely unprepared -- perhaps this happens every year and no one has the foresight to try and fix the roads. It wouldn't surprise him. Human beings seem remarkably similar to those in his own world, and so far the other races he's caught glimpses of also seem to have similar thought processes.
Perhaps that is why he's in the middle of a mud puddle talking to a donkey.
Granted, the Outsider isn't standing in the puddle. He's floating above it, just as a wraith might, except he appears completely solid. Terrifyingly pale and with all black eyes, but solid. The donkey, at least, hasn't bolted in fright. ]
You are a bit different, [ the sort-of-a-man seems to be saying to the beast, one broad hand sweeping over its neck as it shivers. ] Less savage, perhaps.
2;
[ The best vantage point is often the high one, and so that is where the Outsider is -- sitting on top of one of the market stalls. This stall, specifically, sells potions and poultices, and any would-be thieves are keeping their distance from the odd Rifter sitting atop what passes for a roof over it. Whether that was his intention or not is hard to tell, as he has absolutely no problem with examining the bottles and pouches himself. Some are sniffed, others tasted, and all sorted into piles with seemingly no order save one: any items he has already examined are put back into place, just as they were.
Someone should probably stop him from tasting the lyrium. Or the poison. He also seems to be humming -- perhaps it's a somewhat familiar tune. ]
1. SHUSH.
but the weird floating guy talking to a donkey might actually be that point.
alvin pauses laden down with a crate full of some kind of vials of... weird glowing stuff, waiting for a break in the crowd to carry his load back to the merchant paying him to help out, and watches the outsider talk with his new friend uncertainly. ]
Boy, I dunno if I wanna know what kinda animals you have where you're from...
[ i mean, considering how weird YOU look... damn. even muzet's not that freaky looking, and she fights with her hair. ]
c:
It's an unusual feeling -- he is used to not appearing to people, to being watched only because he has made himself the center of attention. He is used to being the watcher. It calls back memories of four thousand years ago, before the Void, and it is rather- uncomfortable.
But at least this particular watcher speaks up, after a time.
The Outsider keeps patting the donkey, silent for a moment. Then- ]
The cattle have sharper teeth.
[ That, he feels, is sufficient explanation as far as what some of the other creatures are like. ]
y u do dis gadg
Huh. Sounds dangerous.
[ aaand speaking of cattle, one of the wheels on the wagon being dragged in front of them just cracked a spoke, and then another, and then the wheel itself splintered all together. talk about oregon trail bullshit, man. might as well stay and talk, even if the other guy looks pretty weird. ]
There's a couple clans in Auj Oule that specialize in beast speakers... [ he casts a disparaging eye over the donkey, as if it's actually something it's not. ] But they're pretty careful to still call their monsters... well, monsters, and keep them separate from the livestock.
to torture you
And yet this man speaks of places and things that seem foreign to this world as well, and the Outsider can't help but find his ever-constant curiosity piqued. ]
And these beast speakers -- how do they speak to their creatures?
dont make me bring junpei here okay
It's a spirit arte — something about having similarly enough shaped mana lobes to to the monsters, I think? They're pretty quiet about their tricks though.
[ but this donkey seems chill enough. alvin adjusts his grip on the crate, balancing it on one raised knee as he gives the donkey a pat between the ears as well. ]
:D
There are spirits in your world?
[ His eyes fall away from the donkey and fix instead on his more humanoid companion.
And then realizes oh, he's holding something. ]
We could, perhaps, move out of the puddle.
8[
[ alvin glances down at his mud caked boots, plus the two inches of dirty water that nearly is swamping his toes, and sighs, adjusting his grip on the crate once again. ]
Eh, don't sweat it. I'm gonna have to go back out there in a little bit anyway.
[ and as if to prove his point, he jerks his head in the direction of the merchant he's working for (who is looking annoyed that its taking so long for alvin to come back but also... doesn't seem to want to get involved now that al's talking to the floating guy), and then the mess of wares in the swampy area that used to just be a field. ]
Maybe I'll charge him by the hour, and take my time.
no subject
[ The rest makes sense. But that? That is new. ]
Perhaps I could assist.
[ If only it will make Alvin keep talking, at least. Well, and if the Outsider can be parted from his interesting donkey discovery. ]
He may refuse to pay you -- may fight you, should you argue.
no subject
[ she's also homicidal. ]
Oh, I don't wanna argue with the poor guy... Just maybe make sure he pays me a fair for going out there and... [ a brief pause, and then a sigh as he thinks about his poor boots! his coat! he's never going to be clean. a shrug, and he hoists the box higher. ] ... getting whatever this is, 'specially after I just got dropped outta a hole in the sky.
[ oh dear, the merchant's looking really mad now. ]
If you're still here when I get back, and I still have a job, I might take you up on the offer. [ he takes a few steps, dodging around the mess of the broken wagon, and calls over his shoulder, ] The floating's gotta make it easier!
2
He's walking through the courtyard with a mug of...whatever passes for a caffeinated morning beverage this month when the weird kid harassing Barter Belle's shop catches his attention. Now, a spirit/abomination sitting on top of an Orlesian merchant's stall? Not that weird. Someone meticulously going through and shoving their face in a series of increasingly questionable bottles? That happens on a weekly basis.
But hearing a familiar dock chanty? This far from Kirkwall? Not being sung by Rivaini? That is beyond the pale...you know, comparatively.
Varric stops, mid stride, and just stares at the bizarre teenager...or probably teenager? His expression is utterly unreadable. After the teen hits the secondary chorus, Varric just can't help himself and interrupts.]
I can't tell if it's just that early or if someone slipped me something stronger than coffee but--hey, I admit, I'm curious. What did you do with the drunken sailor?
no subject
[ The correction breaks the tune, and stills the Outsider's fingers. After a moment, he sets the bottle he's holding back down, turning his gaze to stare at Varric for a long moment. ]
I tend not to get involved with most.
[ Granted, he tends not to get involved with really anyone, even to the extent that he is currently involving himself with Varric. Not that anyone knows that, or would think much past it than 'oh, this weird guy is a picky asshole' (though that's true). ]
But the most common verses, at least in Gristol, are "feed him to the hungry rats for dinner", "slice his throat with a rusty cleaver", and "stuff him in a sack and throw him over".
[ Basically: do not be a drunken whaler in Gristol. ]
no subject
Well, I didn't think I'd hear about anyone crueler than Kirkwall Dockworkers but there you have it.
[Varric is...remarkably nonplussed by the teen's fathomless black stare or his uncanny silences. He's Cole's mentor and chats with Fenris regularly, he's steeled against most bizarre behavior...assuming it's bizarre and passive.]
Though it's not by a really wide margin, I'll admit, but "stuff him in a scubber and drag the harbor" and "leave him at the gallows in apostate armor" are pretty hard to beat.
[Still, he's glad to hear this kid isn't...involved with most.
Varric gestures at the table of bottles, toward the far side.]
I would avoid the ones in the ceramic. Antivian fire. Well, unless you dislike your eyebrows, then by all means.
no subject
[ Perhaps the whales would say they have more than that coming, considering just how cruel whaling is in Gristol. But mostly they sing, their songs reminiscent of magic, even as they're culled. ]
They hang dissenters, then? [ That is, at least, what he thinks of when he hears 'gallows' and 'apostate'. ] That is kinder than in some places, depending on the rope.
[ Morbid bastard.
Morbid, curious bastard, who immediately selects one of the ceramic bottles. ]
It is a drink? I have no real attachment toward my- [ and, like the word is very old, not often used ] eyebrows.
no subject
[Still, Varric cringes a bit as he watches this kid pluck one up. He doesn't step back much, he knows the distance limits on those pretty well, but he certainly leans away a bit.]
And yeah, hangings weren't...unheard of. Meredith liked the classics.
[But there's a dark topic.]
So you're a fan of whales? Whales are nice.
[Says Varric. Who probably only knows of them secondhand, at best. They're big fish that sing, right? Fish are generally not too terrible.
Nobody tell him about predatory fish. Ever.]uh cw: whaling talk i guess??
[ He doesn't shake the flask, but he definitely looks like he's considering it. ]
They are being hunted to extinction, in my world. Whale oil is perhaps just as volatile as this Antivan Fire, though it glows blue. They use it for power, harvest it while the whale still breathes and feels and sings.
[ Now he looks up from the flask, fingers still on the ceramic. ]
Small-minded, greedy; their drive for money and advancement will bring their ruin, if it is not stopped. And yet they call the whales the monsters, link them with the magic they so fear.
[ ...so yeah. He's a fan of whales. ]
I understand there is some of that fear in this world.
That's humans for ya.
Oh yeah. Humans mostly. They do tend to do that whole greedy-ruin-everything-scream-at-magic thing a lot.
Not to say everyone else is that much better but...any improvement over rock bottom is an improvement, generally.
[So change of topic from whales because Varric senses that this might be something a little...touchy.]
And Antivian fire is...well a lot of things you don't really want to imbibe, but fortunately none of them magical. It catches fire when it contacts the air so...being gentle is sort of key.
It's useful, seeing how you don't have to light a fuse like with pitch.
But that does make it hard to mix and bottle.
no subject
[ His eyes are now completely fixed on Varric. It's like being stared at by a shark as far as eyes go, but instead of hunger it's interest, kindling like the start of a bonfire. ]
When it contacts the air? How interesting. Does it work underwater?
[ Outsider what the fuck kind of question is that. ]
Only the most skilled must produce it, then. Or lose limbs trying.
no subject
Sure am.
[He pauses and takes a sip of his drink. Weirdly, he doesn't break casual eye contact with the creepy teen--he's seen worse. At least this one doesn't have red lyrium growing out of his face, right?]
Nope--how do you think we mix and bottle it?
Not to say there aren't explosives that work underwater but if you want to see some of that you'd probably need to either ask the Qunari, or get chummy with Buttercup.
...Somehow I don't think you'll get a great reception from either party. Might want to keep it simple and above water.
no subject
...so yeah, best not to joke right now. ]
"Buttercup?"
[ His head tilts, the angle looking just on the edge of painful. ]
I would not need them for more than my own curiosity. I understand that is often not enough of a reason to receive samples, especially of something that is secretive or dangerous. Especially when it may be both.
[ Beat. ]
Do they respond well to bribes?
no subject
Well...Buttercup might, but...probably not from you. You might want to make an attractive female friend and get her to ask--
[No, that was still likely to get him stuffed full of arrows.]
On second thought, the Qunari might be the easier sell. They will probably try to kill you, of course, but that's just sort of how they do things.
no subject
[ Because clearly you're in the know, Varric. ]
Yes, that happens often. Or it would, if I were usually present around people.
[ There is a faint smile, but it's hardly a friendly one. ]
Those that follow me are hunted and killed, assuming they are not able to outmaneuver their hunters, whether physically or politically. Any Overseer able to kill me would be revered until civilization forgot the Abbey ever existed.
[ That probably sounds a bit like bragging. At least he mostly sounds like he's just stating facts. ]