OPEN: Bloomingtide Rifter Arrival

[faderifting]

WHO: New rifters & helpful Inquisition volunteers
WHAT: Welcome to Thedas!
WHEN: Bloomingtide 7
WHERE: The Imperial Highway near Sulcher's Pass
NOTES: This log is slightly backdated, so it's safe to assume safe arrival at Skyhold and begin RPing there as soon as you're ready OOC. It is open to any characters who would have volunteered to go welcome the rifters, whose arrival sites can now be predicted, thank you Solas.

You were asleep—deeply or fitfully, for the last time or just resting your eyes for a moment—and then you were not. And wherever you were was not, anymore, replaced by nothing but the sensation of falling, tumbling into endless, bottomless nothing. If this were still a dream, you would wake before you hit the ground. You can't die in a dream, they say. In some worlds.

But there's no waking here, just a flare of green-white light and a jarring impact onto cold dirt and long grass. When your breath returns and the light's after-image fades from your eyes you will find yourself lying flat on stone, squinting up into sunlight and a shifting, blinding green tear in reality.

You are also not as you were: in the palm of your left hand there glows a narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. Like the fact that you're being attacked. Surrounding you and the rift through which you arrived are five massive beings made of fire and molten, veiny flesh, rearing back to throw flames at anything that breathes. But mind your step, getting out of their way: the stone beneath you is the ruin of the Imperial Highway, elevated high enough that dropping off either side or the crumbled gap ahead will not be much more survivable than the fire.

Luckily, you are not on your own. Around you others are rising from the ground, equally confused, with the same green lights flaring from their hands. And help is already here—prepared, this time, unsurprised by your appearance, with armor and a few extra weapons to hand off if you've come empty-handed.

Comments

the outsider | ota

[extramural]

Well. This is strange.

It is exciting, actually. Something is different here -- a great many things are different here -- from the fact that he's on his back in the first place to the fact that there are beings seemingly made of fire attacking him.

Oh, and the breathing. That's different, too.

He pushes off the ground, using more magic than physical force, and stands -- levitates, a few inches off the ground -- and then is immediately forced to dodge a blast of flame. He means to teleport, but instead seems to blur and charge forward in something like a Fade Step. Still, it moves him, and in the next moment he's telekinetically controlling a stone from the ruined highway to slam into the back of one of the demons.

Ah, and they have company. How nice.

"If anyone would like to spare a sword...?"

Because surely you want to help arm the floating young man with all black eyes.

[aintwejust]

Stand here, they said, wait for the rift, they said. Even knowing where it's supposed to be doesn't make it any less startl'n when the sky cracks open and spits out all kindsa unpleasantness. Jayne takes heel behind Mal (coward) and Mal just..settles and braces himself for the demons.

There are always demons.

And for half a second he's pretty damn sure there's a new kinda demon that flits about like a hummingbird with dark eyes and magic- save he's kill'n the other ones and he's got that glint o green in his hand. Demons can't have shards-


Can they?

"Jayne- jouer leurre." Malcolm snaps- the hound snuffling a soft whine behind him before peeling off to start barking up a storm and weave around the fire demons. Too big to bite easily- but he can draw their attention while he sorts hisself out. "Promise not t'stab me with it?"

[extramural]

There's a dog, of sorts; it looks nothing like the hounds of an Overseer or the strays that scrap in the alleyways. It's bulky, muscular, and he would like to examine it further -- in the future. For now, there are these beings attacking him, and even deities have survival instincts.

The man with the dog addresses his request for a sword and the Outsider tilts his head, pausing in place. Another demon lurches toward him and he lifts a hand, a gust of wind coming from nowhere and blasting it back into a second demon.

"Unless you give me a reason to."

Otherwise, he promises to stab you with a different sword, should it ever come up. (It probably won't come up, but it's best not to limit your options.)

[aintwejust]

"...good 'nuf." Demons, magic, that crackling rift- yeah. More blades against the mess are batter. Malcolm unstraps the spare he carried with him out here and offers it over hilt first, one eye on the mess of Demons behind them and how Jayne was lead'n them about to buy time, the rest on this strange, black eye'd sonofabitch.

If that didn't scream demon he didn't know what else did. But he's got all his limbs and not much extra, got some kinda hoodoo magic and hat shiny thing in his hand.

Must be from somewhere else. Who knows. Maybe black eyes is normal where he's from.

[extramural]

Pale fingers wrap around the hilt of the sword and the Outsider offers a slight nod in return before taking it entirely. This, at least, is familiar enough. He wasn't ever classically trained, when he was human, but four thousand years is a long time to watch and learn.

There is just the barest quirk of a smile in Mal's direction before he is moving again, Fade Stepping (Void Stepping, perhaps?) just behind the man, sinking his blade into the body of one of the demons that already has arrows peppering its molten hide. It shrieks and he twists, pulling up toward the 'head', and then withdraws. The demon crumples into ash, still smoldering.

"Is this a common occurrence?" Said in the most idle conversational tone possible.

[aintwejust]

Mal twitches a little at the flurry of shadow and magic and someone at his back he wasn't rightly ready for, whirling and bringing his spear to bear at...a hunk of ash and a jackass with a short sword.

Why. Why are the new ones all so damn creepy?

"Lately? Yep. Aim for center mass and don't let 'em grab ya. Hurts like burning." Jayne barks somewhere off to his left- taking a turn too slow to get out of reach of one of the demons, too far to run. Mal flips his grip on his spear, takes a half step for momentum and hurls. His aim's true enough and it slams through the demon's arm, pinning it in place. "...You wanna throw a rock at that one or somth'n?"

[extramural]

Well, that makes sense. They look like they're burning.

Still, his attention is also drawn by the bark of the dog, for the moment seeming to only focus on there things: the man, the dog, and the demons around them. The others, for the moment, are just background characters. None are quite as interesting as the way the man throws the spear, by the way the demon twists and yet doesn't seem intelligent enough to burn through the wood.

"I can," he muses, tilting his head to look at the demon. Another loose stone comes crashing into the back of the demon, helping embed the spear deeper and making its head jerk forward so that its fire breath hits the ground before it instead of Jayne.

post-demon slaying

[motherfucking_ghost]

Church doesn't have a sword. He's got a crossbow.

Why anyone allowed this to happen, if anyone in this group has ever seen him wield his crossbow, is beyond even the Maker's comprehension, but at least he's worked with it before. Swords? Look, Tucker never let him hold the damn sword-key. He's pretty sure it's as simple as swish-swish-stab, but nobody wanted to arm someone with a sword who had literally never held a sword.

So. No sword from Church.

Not...that this floating fucking Exorcist kid looked like he needed a whole lot of help, but he got it anyway, just like the others. A Rifter is a Rifter, and that's why he's finally left the relative confines and safety of Skyhold. To help Rifters.

From Cassandra. Not for Cassandra. He raises his eyebrows at the kid (he looks like a kid anyway) and glances around them for a second before leaning in a little. "Okay. So. You'll probably have a lot of questions about literally everything. But first thing's first: your floaty telekinesis thing is definitely going to freak a lot of people here out. That's...these people here are just...they get kinda twitchy about magical stuff. So. There's that. But so long as you don't do anything fucking stupid," Galadriel, "then hopefully you'll be fine and mostly just shunned and stared at."

Church how is that helpful-- "Welcome to being a stranger in a strange land." Fucking hell. "If people start giving you shit? And I mean, drag you bodily to be interrogated, put a sword to your throat shit? Or violent shit in general?" He makes a point of showing the shard in his own hand. "Word of advice is find one of us. With the pain laser hands. We're not well-liked around here as it is. I don't want to see any new guys getting their asses in trouble over shit they have no control over." Church stop speechifying at the new guy...

[extramural]

Crossbows, too, are familiar. This man, though, he didn't fall from the sky with him -- but he bears the mark of someone who has, in the past. The Outsider blinks, somewhat surprised when he just leans in and starts talking, but it's- refreshing. He is feared in his own world, more even than this man seems to think he will be feared here, and people do not often have conversations with him.

Probably because he doesn't usually let them speak, but it's typically not much worth saying. This is unexpected, and that makes it interesting.

"My own world is similar," he says after a moment. "Practitioners of magic are hunted and killed, and I am rather specifically hated." Comes with being part of the Void. "But- I am not often looked out for, thought of as someone who might need it, in that world. Thank you."

And isn't that an odd phrase to say, when he can't remember the last time he said it?

"What would be considered something stupid?"

[motherfucking_ghost]

"Only some people want to hunt down mages here. They're called mages here. I don't even have magic back home. I mean, advanced enough technology being indistinguishable..." He trails off, momentarily lost in a thought before shaking his head.

"It's insanely complicated here, from what I've learned. You've got the double-whammy of being magically-inclined outside of what they know and being a Rifter from another world. Sucks to be you, buddy." Sucks to be anyone with a shard, really, but at least the other shardbearers are from this world.

As for what constitutes as stupid? "Uhhhh. I mean, try not to antagonize every single person where we're going? And maybe don't be blatantly defiant. Or open more of these holes in the sky. Or summon demons. Maybe keep the floating to a minimum." Church watches him for a moment longer, peering at him, really. "So I have got to ask. The eyes." He makes a motion to his, as if his almost unnaturally green ones aren't at all noticeable. "Is that...normal? Or like...an indicator of why people really at your in particular back home?"

[extramural]

'Try not to antagonize'. Church might as well have just told him to do the hula for everyone; the Outsider has next to no practice in not being at least a bit irritating. He has no patience for those who think they are the only ones with power, the only ones to be respected. He sews discord; he has seen his Marked bring down people who thought they were untouchable.

Still. He can remember that they are- if not beneath him, then at least boring.

"Not for most in my world, no. I was chosen by the Void as its current deity, over four thousand years ago. My eyes changed then, as did I." Which reminds him- "I am not only a mage. I am the source of magic in my world, through the power of the Void."

[foxsays]

She'd gone because she'd made her choice; stand on her own two feet, not with the rifters but for Thedas. That still involves rifts however and since she's marked, that means she should go along. She's avoided it so far since she came to Thedas that first time but she can't, not forever, and as her hand starts to-- well not hurt, not exactly, she moves, blades drawn when she hears him.

Araceli has two rapiers to hand at all times but she always carries a smaller knife too, and because she was raised to be charitable, she tosses one rapier over, casually as she can.

"I'll need it back after. It was a gift from a friend." Unlike a sword from Thedas - not that he'd know it, not yet at least - it's lighter, longer, designed for something far more elegant than brute hacking and slashing with a delicate hilt that wraps around the hand; usually it would reflect the light of her left hand but she takes out a smaller knife, flicking it open instead. A ship is carved on it in ivory, soon bathed in green light as she watches him before she darts forward and brings her blade up and under to where there's a weaker spot on the demon.

He has to be a mage, she's seen Korrin move like that. Minus the floating. And because she's been training, she rallies them both with some of the other bard things she's learned, a strange sort of battle cry that might not scare demons but should hopefully bolster the pair of them.

[justice_is_blond]

"...Spare a sword?" It's not just that he doesn't have a sword, and he'd think that would be obvious since he's holding a staff and fighting demons with magic. It's that something floating is asking for a sword. Then again, the floating man did just attack a demon. And then yet again, his eyes are entirely black.

"I've a boot knife. That's as close as I get. And as I'm not certain you won't drive it into my back, I don't know about handing it over." Justice in particular isn't certain it should be handed over, despite how this... person... has just killed a demon. But after a short beat, Anders bends and retrieves the small knife and offers it. It isn't really like that can be used to kill him unless this being is very fast and very serious about it.

"Mind if I ask what you are?" If the answer isn't good, at least they're ready to fight.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Church stares at Void-god-kid for a few long moments. "...Yeeeeaaaaah, I think a lot of native people are going to have a problem with about everything you just said. Pretty sure there's no Void here, though. Just the Fade. Not sure if those'll end up being similar or not. Did you seriously just say four thousand years?"

ruby lucas | ota

[eviscerates]

Ruby's getting to be an old hand (of sorts) when it comes to this rift closing business. More importantly, this is helping people, and maybe maybe there is a chance that heading out this way will give her some clue to finding Emma.

She didn't bother bringing her cloak along to the battle at the rift itself, ready in case she should need to let the Wolf out, and she runs in leathers rather than flowing skirts, now, arrows at her back and element grenades in hand.

( a. FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT )

See Ruby. See Ruby hurling spike traps and element grenades to the demons' feet before drawing back her bowstring taught. "Heads up!"


( b. FLYING OBJECTS - limited to one or two, please! )

And then, in the midst of running to someone's aid, a giant poster in an ornate golden-wooden frame flies out of the rift and smacks Ruby in the head. She might need help. Also please grab her poster, she'll want that later.


( c. after the fight. )

She is sitting, a poster of Ziggy Stardust leaning nearby, and massaging her neck because holy shit, ow. "Thanks a lot, Bowie."

B. FLYING OBJECTS

[aintwejust]

"RED!" Ruby, red, creepy wolf lady- look a name's a name and it's downright concerning when a giant whatever the shit it is flies out of the rift and hits someone in the face. Malcolm snaps a quick order to Jayne to buy them a little space and time before sprinting over, skidding to a stop next to her.

"Sure hope nothing's broke cuz I ain't a healer-"

C

[gatheringstorm]

[After the battle, Korrin's roaming around and checking on people/the area just to make sure there are no unwelcome surprises. Upon seeing Ruby, she reaches for a healing potion and gently tosses it her way, not aiming to give her another bruise.]

A sip of that ought to help.

...what in the name of Andraste is that?

[She stares at the large poster, eyebrow raised. At least isn't not the contents of someone's tent this time, but still.]

[eviscerates]

On the plus side, it was the side that clipped her and not a corner. On the downside? Still got hit in the head with something very heavy.

Groaning, she pushes herself up and glances at Mal - there's a little gash above her brow and its bleeding something fierce, bruising fast, but she somehow manages a smile.

"Nothing important, I don't think. Anyone else hurt?"

[motherfucking_ghost]

"...Holy shit, is that David Bowie?" Also, holy shit, is that a hot lady in leather?

"I have never been so fucking happy to see that sparkly soul in my life." What, like David Bowie isn't gonna be remembered in 550 year? Please. "Please tell me you understand the significance of this." Just because she's a Rifter doesn't mean she's from any kind of world or time he knows of. "Because the last Rifter I talked to who was anything close to my normal kind of world disappeared, and the next one is a magical girl with dragons and schools." And, again, still hundreds and hundreds of years off.

"...Are you okay?" Maybe shoulda started with that one, Church.

[eviscerates]

Thanks.

( She feels so bruised. She is so bruised, and her head is thudding and feels too hot on one side, and there's a dried blood in her brow where she might get a scar. From a picture frame. Most underwhelming war story ever. )

This, ( she says, popping the stopper off the potion with her thumb as she props herself up a little more. ) Is the legendary musician from my world, Ziggy Stardust. And I'm pretty sure it's the universe laughing at me.

[eviscerates]

"Actually," she replies, very gravely, "this is Ziggy Stardust, who I may have accidentally painted as a hero of our world who vanquished evil space spiders."

There's a grin, and she takes another sip of the potion she's nursing. "He's pretty much the greatest person in the entire universe. I've got a little idea of the significance."

And, she huffs out a laugh. "I'm fine. My dignity is on the line, maybe, but otherwise I'm great." And headachey. And bruised.

[gatheringstorm]

[Noting the dried blood, Korrin frowns but hopefully the potion will alleviate that throbbing.]

Maybe it just thought you needed something to decorate your quarters with? Though if you want people to think you earned that head wound in epic battle, I'll back you up. [It was a demon, totally nothing embarrassing about that.]

[eviscerates]

Maybe. Or maybe it was telling me that I should stop sharing stories from my world. ( A little tilt of her head, and she elaborates: ) Merrill was pretty excited to hear about him. I think she might appreciate this more than me, especially after the extra-fun headinjury.

( Ruby grins a little, nodding as she sips her potion. )

Great. It was a really big demon.

[gatheringstorm]

On fire. Don't forget the fire part.

[She grins, then tilts her head to size up the poster.] It doesn't look too heavy. I could help haul that back, as long as I don't need my hands free.

[extramural]

The rapier is caught, larger hand still managing to fit the hilt, and the Outsider offers the woman a nod. It's something like gratitude, or at least acknowledgment; he asked and she complied, and at least she isn't asking if he's going to stab her. There are many others here who are uneasy with him even as they run up, who are watching him like he might decide to stop killing the odd creatures and start killing them.

He hasn't planned on it. He plans on it even less as the design on her knife catches his eye, and less still when it's music that she uses almost like magic. His own magic, the magic that comes from the Void to him and from him to the world, is tied with music; whalesong, the sound of the tide against the shore and gulls overhead. The Overseers learned it, learned how to disrupt it, but this woman can bolster it.

And so when the demon she's stabbed reaches for her with its molten hands, the Outsider uses that same delicate blade to relieve it of them.

"It will be returned," he promises, and with his all black eyes perhaps he's now like a curious shark, circling the demon but fully aware of her.