You can't concern yourself with bigger things

[faderifting]

WHO: New rifters & their helpful rescuers
WHAT: People fall out of a rift and get attacked by stuff, it's pretty old hat by now (sorry Jefferson).
WHEN: Solace 7
WHERE: High in the Frostbacks, within a day of Skyhold.
NOTES: This log is open to any characters who would have volunteered to go welcome the rifters, whose arrival sites can now be predicted, thank you Solas. Rifters are also welcome to begin RPing at Skyhold as soon as they are ready.

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.

In this world, something has definitely died. But not you; not yet. When the afterimage left by a flare of too-bright, greenish light fades, you will find yourself in a pile of bones, stripped by teeth and weather, bleached almost as white as the snow that covers most of the rocky, mountainous terrain around you. Beneath its threadbare blanket, it's easy to pick out heaps of earth and stone and debris arranged in a rough ring-shape on the ground around you and the rift that just spat you out. Almost like...a nest? Whatever might once have lived here, it must have been very large, because the bones scattered about are the size of large livestock, at the least. Some of the bare rocks show what look like marks from very large claws, and where snow doesn't cover, the stone looks suspiciously scorched. There are no recent tracks, but maybe that's a good thing.

Less good: the cluster of demons that is emerging from the rift to take over the job of killing you. Some are tall, spindly stick-things with too many eyes, some hunched and hooded with no eyes at all, others mere wisps of greenish light. None look friendly or familiar. Also unfamiliar is the narrow splinter of light the same sickly green as whatever brought you here that now glows out of the palm of your left hand. It aches, a bone-deep pain that gnaws even through all the distractions. Hopefully you can set it aside enough to pick up a bone club and get to work in self-defense, because there is no immediate sign of road or path or settlement anywhere to be seen.

Comments

daenerys targaryen ; asoiaf

[unsullies]

It's difficult to say that something is more surprising than having walked unharmed from a funeral pyre holding three newborn dragons, but this is, in fact, more surprising.

Daenerys Targaryen falls asleep on the hot expanse of the Dothraki Sea and wakes in the Frostbacks. More accurately, she has a bizarre encounter with a vivid green light and then finds herself among bones in a climate just about as far from the desert as you could get. The young khaleesi inhales sharply, violet eyes wide and panicked as she takes in what is clearly the former meal of an enormous dragon scattered around her. This is her dream; of course it would involve a dragon. Dany delicately reaches out, fingers brushing the remains of what might have been a horse, mind not yet clear enough to do anything beyond test out her environment.

She shivers violently, then, not at all dressed for this weather, and works gradually on picking herself up and taking in... whatever she can about this scene set by her slumbering mind. Strange. Dany gasps sharply as a pain in her hand throbs violently, matching the flash of a distant... glare. She looks slowly from her trembling hand, marked by a strange splinter, to a pulsing mass that seems to hang in the sky. There are dozens of questions and not enough answers, particularly not when monsters are stalking toward her. Dany's heart thuds violently as she presses back against the mess of bones, praying silently that she wakes before they reach her, thinking immediately of other, recent nightmares, painful and terrifying, but... this feels different than them. This has a quality of solidity to it that makes her question the snowy rock around her, but there isn't much time at the moment to consider reality.

The demons approach and she feels again like a little girl, helpless and alone.

[gatheringstorm]

"Hey, assholes! Over here!" The voice comes from a tall woman, at least a head taller than the average human male. If the long, curving horns that are attached and not ornamental don't mark her as something other than human, the pointed ears might. But at any rate, she's not standing around to be stared at. One hand carries a staff and the other an empty sword hilt. To draw attention away from the freezing newcomer, she whirls the former and unleashes a blast of lightning, shocking the nearest target before arcing to another.

[unsullies]

She doesn't waste the opportunity given to her. Though the presence of... what looks to be at least partly a woman is startling in itself, the creatures, with obvious claws and piercing shrieks, are the larger concern. Dany begins to scramble away from the scene, keeping mostly to the walls, eyes wide and trained on the warrior who seems to be using lighting itself to fend off the monsters. She (is it a woman?) seems an ally, at least for the moment, in their shared cause of not being cut to ribbons or eaten.

Even so, Dany makes sure to find a sharp-looking bone as she moves gradually away, wielding it like a dagger, holding it out in front of her and trying to make herself appear smaller to the demons, who seem successfully distracted by the newcomer's presence.

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin doesn't dare focus her gaze on the newcomer, though can see what she's doing in the corner of her vision and approves. Not everyone can fight, and she accepts that, but the demons won't care. Having some means of self-defense could be vital. And though she doesn't take her eyes off the demons nearby, the Vashoth woman will shout above its attacks loud enough to be heard.

"Watch out for the ones with spindly limbs! They love to pop in behind people and knock them down." That's happened far too many times to Korrin for her to keep track, so upon one getting in range, she distracts it from the human by activating her spirit blade. Suddenly, the hilt isn't just a hilt, the glowing blade taking form as she charges and slashes with it at the terror demon.

[unsullies]

That exclamation is alarming, to say the least, and she whips around to make sure one of them isn't sneaking up on her. To ensure it doesn't happen, she presses her back flush against the rocky enclave, violet eyes flitting between Korrin and the demons.

"What can I do?" Dany calls finally, knowing that if the... woman falls, then she won't stand a chance. Running would be her safest option, but leaving her would-be savior alone is cowardly, and a Targaryen is no coward.

[eviscerates]

"Hey." Ruby is a creature built for the cold. At least, that's what she tells herself as she's unfastening the crimson cloak that hangs from her shoulders, tossing it to the young woman as she places herself between the Rifter and the demons, with her back to the monsters for these brief moments. "I can fill you in on all kinds of weird stuff in a while, but we've got to deal with these guys first."

In her hand is a dagger - nothing special, nothing spectacular, but something, and she holds it out. "Run or fight. I've got you covered."

She speaks quickly, urgently, but not unkindly - though she does sneak a glance over her shoulder to make sure a demon isn't right on top of them before looking back to her brand new company. "You're going to be okay. Okay?"

[unsullies]

Dany is taken aback by the newcomer, shirking from her sudden, outgoing presence, silver brows flitting at confusion. Even so, she takes the cloak, wrapping it around her bare shoulders, never stopping from watching the young woman who'd given it.

"I... can't fight," Dany says slowly, warily. She certainly can't fight these things, whatever they are. "Who are you?"

This is a dream, so the red woman must be an important figure of some kind to feature in it. A Red priestess? She swallows, reaching out to pull herself closer to the rock and farther from the fray.

[eviscerates]

"That's okay." Calm, reassuring - she hopes. The young woman really is young, it occurs to her, and ahe feels a sharp pang of sympathy. "My name's Ruby. I came here the same way you did."

Her hearing is sharp and she stands and turns, drawing an arrow, stretching the bowstring taught before loosing it. The Wolf generally doesn't come out for arrivals - people have enough to absorb without adding werewolf to the mix.

"There's... some magic in this world," she adds, over her shoulder, and it feels both wicked obvious and very necessary to say, both at once.

remember when i said i'd tag you on the tdm

[rowancrowned]

He had—very nearly—decided not to come. Solas had kindly named the place, the scouts had mapped it, and the volunteers had been informed that the Rift would open close (too close) to where a dragon had once made her lair. But a vested personal interest in seeing who would arrive bade him go, a responsibility, a hope—

They arrive in the thick of it, as always, because the where and the when of Solas’ predictions are nearly perfect, but horses throw shoes, scouts get lost.

Her hair draws him. It’s such a familiar color that the association is automatic, even when he sees the shape of her ears. The irrational part of his hope dies as he makes his way to her, dodging ice and fire and glad for the flexibility of his mail, the simplicity of his current armor, and his lack of adornment. The mistake the Wraith makes is being far too interested in the (unarmed, unarmored) Mannish child before it. Thranduil is fast, too fast (he has no reputation here, is simply himself) and cuts through it before it can touch her.

The smoke of it dissipates; he offers her his hand, body tilted towards the rest of the little fights going on in the clearing. As he thought, a small rift.

“Come.” He steals a glance back at her, gestures with a nod of his head. His hand waits outstretched for her to take, to help herself up.

smooches

[unsullies]

Dany, too, is distracted by the hair. In a dream, it would be entirely possible to encounter a nameless Targaryen, to see one of her long-dead family appear. It wouldn't be the first time, either. Her heart speeds up as he approaches and she stares wide-eyed into the face, mind flickering to static.

"Rhaegar?" she breathes, but then she sees the eyes, the ears, and her spirits sink. No, this... whoever it is, with so many features similar to hers, it isn't her kin. Dany bites her lip in disappointment, but the urgency of the battle is quick on its heels. The demons shriek, one is destroyed by the man, and she nods obediently, taking his hand and rising with his aid.

"I have no weapons," she tells the dream-figure. "I... don't know where I am."

Of course she doesn't. She's never been to snowy mountains in her waking life.

[rowancrowned]

She does not- cannot- hide the disappointment in her face when the realization sweeps over her that he is not her 'Rhaegar'. "No, child," he says, not unkindly, gripping her wrist as he pulls her up. They have bare moments before they'll need to move again, and he cuts down to the simple questions.

"Can you fight?" If she can't, giving her anything will only lead to a greater chance of her hurting friend when thinking foe. He half turns his back to her, keeps his eyes on the field, a hand outstretched to hold her back, a preventive shield. "We will have pleasantries later. I beg your trust until we are safe, and then I will answer all your questions. Yes?"

emma swan | once upon a time

[sheriffing]

A lot changes after you take a nonbeliever and convince them that anything is possible. What should be a relief can easily become a burden, especially when it comes with a title, and magic, and an awareness that even the most ridiculous situations are real. A few months ago Emma Swan would have questioned her ability to tumble into a world of bones and snow, but not now.

Right now she wishes she was still sleeping, because she knows better. Now she knows, almost immediately upon waking up, that this is real and happening. Portals and other worlds and whatever the hell those things are - all of it is possible, which means she's probably screwed. It's not a a nightmare; at this point, she's more inclined to call it her life and that's something Emma has learned to fight for. She scrambles up, putting weight on a hand that feels surprisingly sore and pushing past it while she searches around for some kind of weapon.

"No." Not again. Not another portal and another battle to get home. She may not know why these demons want her, but her fingers curve around the closest item she can find, which happens to be a large bone. It's not what Emma was hoping for, but if it helps her get out of this mess alive, she'll work with it. She's survived situations with less to work with, right? Even if her odds aren't great, she's not going down without a fight.

[eviscerates]

Given how much falling through a Rift into another world kind of sucks, Ruby is a great fan of the whole welcome wagon thing - especially given that the welcome wagon kind of helps makes sure no one gets eaten by a demon, or something. (Granted she's not sure if demons actually eat people at all, or whether that's her own personal brand of paranoia settling in to make things extra fun, but hey. Helping people just to survive the demons is a good enough reason, regardless.)

She's also of the general opinion that Rifters have seen enough in the last thirty seconds to not need to see a woman turn into a Wolf, too, so her first attack comes in the form of an arrow that bites deep into the demon's throat, swiftly followed by another.

"We're here to help." Would hopefully go without saying, but again, there's a whole bunch going on. There's more to say, about explanations being possible and demons and Rifts and laying out a tactic or something, but instead her gaze finally falls on the woman and she feels her jaw drop a little. "Emma?"

[sheriffing]

It's close to her and then it's down, and that's enough for Emma to know that she can fight these demons. They're not much and yet intensely unsettling, regardless of whether they have too many eyes or none at all. She doesn't care what these things do as long as they don't get a chance to do it to her, and she has her weapon at her side when her rescuer gets closer. Her focus had been on the enemy before, but as soon as she turns toward her name, it's all on the woman who saved her.

"Ruby?" This should be impossible, because Ruby was in Storybrooke. But throw in the rest of it, the fact that she was just in Storybrooke and is now as screwed as the rest of them, and she's not gonna argue against the possibility of more of Storybrooke being here. All she can do is move toward her friend, cautiously trying to keep track of her surroundings even though Ruby's heightened senses are probably on autopilot right now. "Where did you come from?"

The idea of her being here with a group implies that someone organized this. It might not matter much in the moment, but those questions are going to come as soon as she's allowed to ask them. For now, she settles for looking the other woman over in an effort to make sure she's kept herself safe in all the commotion. Ruby can handle herself, but Emma knows as well as anyone that it's just as important to know someone has your back. "More importantly, where are we going?"

[eviscerates]

"Skyhold."

It's the first thing that comes to her mind, two syllables bluntly spoken because part of her thinks that's obvious, right? You know and another part of her just feels numb, like when you've been holding your hand in ice water so long that you can't tell that there's warm water running over it instead.

She shakes her head. More certainly, "Back to the Inquisition."

There's a shade drifting closer, and she jerks her head towards it, reaching for another arrow. "I'll fill you in later."
For now she might just have to content herself with making sure Emma gets out of this all in once peace, rather than the touching reunion. This seemed so impossible, and Emma seemed so much more--

Vibrant wasn't the right word, and yet part of her thinks that maybe it is. Less darkness, more vibrance, and both of those factors are matters for future Ruby to deal with.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Church is learning that, hey, maybe he should just start lugging his sword around, because he actually manages to hit things with it, instead of pretending to be able to hit things with his crossbow. Besides, it's crazy more dramatic and will totally impress the ladies if he looks like a dashing knight. Right? Right.

"Jesus," he curses, climbing his way up to what everyone can only assume is some kind of dragon's nest, "damn it," this is not a fun place to be with the cold and snow and height and why can't they just be back in the Plains, at least then they can walk in tall grass and hopefully not get killed in a civil war, "motherfucking--oh hey."

He pants for a moment at the edge of the nest because fuck this hike, catching his breath, then heaves himself the rest of the way up. Wow look at these blondes. "Okay, hi, don't panic, but also maybe panic just a little bit until these guys are taken care of." He pulls out his sword, which is thankfully not a euphemism, and charges at one of the ghostly green spirits. Because ummm...fuck those spindly guys and those hooded guys. Church picks his battles, thank you very much.

Despite being made of who even knows what, the sword connects with...something. He is not elegant in his swinging, but at least he does damage to the thing for a couple of hits before pulling back so he doesn't get blasted by magical-y fade-y energy up close and personal. "I'd keep moving. Move. Move!" Where? Anywhere but in the same spot.

[sheriffing]

Where is the question. Emma takes off at his advice, but don't ask her if she knows where she's going, because she still hasn't figured out where the hell she is. The panic's a definite when she's surrounded by bones, and she's guessing that was a dragon but the last one she killed made a different kind of magical mess. They don't do this in Storybrooke, even with portals and disasters and threats against the town. Back home it's always a person, not a group of dead things in an area already covered with the remains of one other enormous dead thing.

She doesn't care how Church managed to kill that thing as long as he did. Leave it up to her and the sword-swinging wouldn't be much better, but having people here to help with the fight means they need to work through this together. There's time when there's some distance between them and the demons, until there's enough rock coverage to hide them from their attackers. Although if she had to guess, she'd say it's the newcomers who were the target. Those guys might now show up without an open portal to work with.

"What the hell is all of this?" If there's a second to breathe she'd like to use it getting answers. "How do we get rid of them?" As much as she'd like the full explanation, there's not enough time for her to get everything she wants. They need to work on getting someplace safe, and she's still assuming this isn't it. This isn't her first trip through a portal, and now that she has a home to get back to, it won't be her last.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Even in the midst of battle, Church would still like to look cool and super awesome because of course!! Besides, he can form a plan in the middle of it! He tries to kick up a skull into his hands, bashes his foot against it, curses, and then picks up a...decidedly smaller skull to use as a shield.

That's cool, right? Until it gets blasted almost immediately out of said hand. He rolls his eyes and moves, following this newcomer to some small brand of shelter, even though he's sure that won't last long. "Fucking of course it doesn't fucking work out..."

He can't pick anyone off from here without his crossbow, but honestly, it might be for the better to once again let the movers and shakers do all the heavy lifting while he helps pick off some of the little green ghosties. "Uh. Okay. So. Welcome to Thedas 101. You fell through a portal in space and time through a demon dimension into a real life session of D&D. And depending on what kind of world you came from, that will either make perfect sense or you'll look at me like I'm speaking in tongues."

jefferson | once upon a time

[hattergonnahat]

No.

No no no no, not again. Not this again!

Jefferson is on his feet in an instant, the second he realizes that this isn't a dream. He draws a deep shuddering breath, released in a white puff of fog as his eyes dart around the carcass he's arrived in the midst of. Dragon. He'd bet his hat this is a dragon's nest, and that's the last place on earth you want to be.

No eggs that he can see, but he's not chancing it.

There's a twinge of pain that draws his attention to his hand, to the spark of green illuminated within it, but there's no time. Movement. That's the important thing. Picking himself up off the ground and steadying himself against the stone, fingers brushing one of those claw marks with a shudder. This isn't Storybrooke. This is another world altogether, whether the Enchanted Forest or somewhere entirely new. A far cry from the cozy warmth of the home he'd only just recently begun to share with...

"Grace!" He stumbles forward, turning in all directions, searching for signs of his daughter in a growing panic. "Grace!"

[doneisdone]

From behind, a bony hand claps tightly over his mouth, a deep woman's voice speaking over his shoulder. "By all means, keep shouting, draw them right to you," Teren hisses, removing her hand as she steps forward, blades drawn and her back to the stranger.
"If you're disoriented, you'd be wise to step back," she says over her shoulder, voice clipped. "Whoever she is, we'll look for her once we've cleaned up here."
She strolls toward a terror currently engaged with another member of the Inquisition, and drives one of her blades into its spine.

[hattergonnahat]

He goes stiff at the sudden grip from behind, as anyone within reason might, and he twists free as she pulls away and steps in front of him. Jefferson's eyes flicker quickly to her blade and back up again before he scrambles back, pressed against the cold stone behind him.

A monster hunter? Whoever she was, she was at least good for getting between him and...whatever those things were. But she's mad if she thinks he's staying put. Already he's looking to see if there's a way out of this nesting ground and away from the fighting.

And, of course, looking for a head of dark-blonde hair. Listening for any trace of her voice. Had it been just him? He didn't know whether to hope for that to be the case or not, but he's quick to start slinking away all the same.

[doneisdone]

Turning back from the demon to check on the newcomer, Teren rolls her eyes to see him already going off to be tripped over. She rips her knife out of the dying Terror, confident that its other assailant will finish it off, and steps after the man.
Luckily, she's not stupid enough to call out to him or otherwise make a scene; she understands that this process can be quite traumatic and people aren't always sensible after the journey is made. Bearing that in mind, she simply trails him, prepared to fend off any demons that are drawn to him.

[sheriffing]

Emma may have somehow just fallen through a portal (which she's betting is somehow related to a recent fight against two evil queens), but even in the middle of all of the confusion she still knows when to make a run for it. She's up and searching for any human she can find when a man starts shouting, and if he doesn't shut up soon neither of them is going to live to tell about it. It's too dangerous to do this out here. She may have a weapon but she's outnumbered at least a dozen times over, and while the smart thing to do would be to worry about herself, Emma has always survived on her instincts.

Her instincts say to drag him along with her, so that's what she's going to do.

It's not a friendly greeting as she gets closer, tugging on his shoulder to spin the man in her direction, a too-loud "hey!" demanding his attention as she tries to pull him out of his search. A glance and moment is all it takes for familiarity to set in. They only met the one time, but he'd made it memorable.

He'd kidnapped her and her mother, that was what made it memorable.

"Jefferson?!" There's no time for her to be pissed off when they need to run for their lives. Her eyes are wild with the fear of the approaching demons, with the reality of where they are and no clue as to how they got there. None of it even matters because they need to move, preferably right now. "What the hell - we have to get out of here!"

[hattergonnahat]

The Savior?

Alright, it's a given that the last time they met things hadn't precisely gone well. For either of them. Everyone had did and said things they regret now, fair's fair. But it's less of a concern now than where they are and whether or not his daughter is in danger, too.

Jefferson stares numbly back at Emma for a moment, the second she spins him around to look at her, but they don't have much time to chat about the reunion. The noises coming from the rift are growing more unnerving by the second, and in a flash Jefferson's seized hold of Emma's arm and is darting in the direction of the edge of the nest.

Anywhere but here. That sounds pretty good, right about now.

[sheriffing]

Their first meeting hadn't gone well, that much is true. Saying and doing things they regret doesn't carry over to this unapologetic savior, who would remind him that she was drugged and kidnapped then left with the task of having to rescue her roommate from an armed mad hatter. It doesn't matter that he was telling the truth, or that Mary Margaret had proven more capable of rescuing her than the other way around, what holds is that his idea of desperation comes with the potential for disaster.

Luckily Jefferson catches on quickly enough, and instead of standing around to look for his daughter, he takes off and forces her to follow. She would have gone without that, because even in the chaos of being in a strange world and suddenly under attack, Emma's working with the certainty that Henry isn't here. She thinks if he was she would know it, even if they didn't land in the same section of the nest.

She slows at rocks large enough to cover them, pulling her arm free to get a sense of where they are. Now that they've put some distance in, they need to figure out what we're they're working with. "Do you recognize this world?" She pants out the words with her hands resting against her knees, keeping herself out of sight. He's the one who said there were infinite worlds. Which one is this?