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

[sheriffing]

There has yet to be a moment in this world when she trusts anyone or anything but herself. Places like this are usually a trap, and if it's not the queen of hearts waiting to manipulate her, it's despair demons and an unfamiliar rescue party. She'd like to get a sense of her odds before she dives in, but one stick-like creature gets a little too close to the runaway hatter, and Emma swings her weapon to see what kind of contact she can make with something that barely looks real to her.

In some ways she's back to where she was when he decided to take matters into his own hands, skeptical and furious and somehow still willing to fight. It's like being trapped in a nightmare and waiting to wake up, but Emma's already aware that she's the only person she can count on here. She can't afford to wait around and see what happens.

[hattergonnahat]

Jefferson feels the thing's proximity, twisting around to get a look only to see Emma stepping up and swinging. And he's familiar with the strength in her arm.

So he drops to the ground almost immediately to avoid it, as the demon shrieks and turns its attention towards Emma. Long, sharp talons stretch from its fingers as it switches its tail back and forth in agitation.

He could take the moment and flee. It's no longer worried about him.

She hadn't been worried about helping him before. Why not?

She's still the savior, though. She's still the reason Grace remembers.

Panic is replaced quickly by a sort of mad determination before he shifts on the ground, aiming a kick for the back of the thing's knees. No matter what this thing is, that's bound to at least smart.

[sheriffing]

If she knew what he was thinking, she'd expect him to run for it. Hell, Emma expects it anyway, without having a second to spare for considering his feelings in all of this. If she did, maybe she'd remember she's not entirely blameless; she might even feel guilty for inadvertently helping Regina keep him from his child. It's just easier to expect less, especially when she's used to fighting on her own.

There are enough people fighting these things for her to know it can be done. They're not indestructible, just unfamiliar. She can work with the inconvenience of the thing that's coming in her direction, but what she'd like to avoid are the talons swinging her way. Emma is trying to back away when she watches the thing start to crumple over, and in hitting it when it goes down she's barely aware of Jefferson kicking at the creature. He's helping, not running. That's a little more courage than she was expecting from the Mad Hatter.

"Watch out!" She's pretty sure it's almost down for the count, but this time Jefferson isn't the intended target, and she'd like to keep him out of the way.

[hattergonnahat]

Oh, he's not courageous in the least. Courage is a far-flung and foreign thought. But daring? Desperation? A little madness? Those things are surprisingly close and often yield similar results.

Emma yells and he scrambles back a little further, before a spark of green flashes nearby and he has to shield his eyes. That energy crackles in sympathy with whatever is lodged inside of his hand -- which can't be a good sign -- and he grits his teeth before moving to stand again.

"Hurry!"

[sheriffing]

It's not that she isn't trying. She gets a good, devastating hit in before they're free of that threat, and all she can do in the moment is ignore the spark of magic in her hand. If it's going to be a bigger problem than anticipated, it's one they're going to have to deal with outside of this place.

People are fighting these things for a reason. They need to kill them or get clear of them before they can tackle their next problem.

As usual, there's more than enough of those to go around. "Let's go!" The question is where?