faderift | OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

WHO: New Rifters & Inquisition Members
WHAT: A journey south to make new friends and kick some ass
WHEN: Drakonis 15-25
WHERE: Sunless Lands
NOTES: Violence and language assumed. Warn for anyting else. OOC post.

The Sunless Lands are not, in fact, sunless. This time of year there can be as many as eight hours of daylight, some of it blinding where it reflects off of snow and ice that stretches from the southern edge of the Kocari Wilds as far as anyone can see, broken only occasionally by rocky masses of land jutting out of the snow cover or barren tundra peeking out in patches where constant, unforgiving wind has pushed it aside. You'll be traversing this span primarily on foot—there are sleighs, too, pulled by hardy dogs, but they're carrying essential supplies rather than spare people. The only way to get a ride is to successfully feign passing out.

Beyond the dogs, the area isn't devoid of native wildlife: white fennecs hunt rodents underground, and a herd of excessively fluffy wild druffalo is seeking out whatever vegetation it can find. But hunting down a meal or two early and preserving rations for further south would not be a bad idea, because the further south the team travels, the more inhospitable the terrain grows, and the less life can be seen. And sometimes not much of anything can be seen, when clouds roll by and burst with snow thick enough to halt progress entirely for hours.

The nights are cloudy as often as clear, but when they are clear the sky is split by green and purple ribbons of light.

I. THE RESCUE

Two days' journey south, the monotonously icy horizon is broken by something new: smoke rising in interrupted puffs, an intentional signal. Someone is out there. Chances are, it's the rifters, with or without their first group of intended rescuers. But there's no way to be sure. And approaching with caution is wise either way. Rifters have strange powers (and strange personalities), and they've been out here for days now, dealing with demons and Maker knows what else on their own. For all anyone knows, they could be the reason for the rescue team's disappearance. Orders are to approach carefully.

Then, once contact has been made and initial concerns have been allayed, make sure those poor people have something to eat, and try to figure out where their original rescuers disappeared to.

II. THE STORM

After the rifters are recovered, there's still the matter of the red lyrium mine to address. Another two days' journey south will put the group within good range of the mine: not so close as to be seen, but close enough to be able to get there in a couple of hours as needed.

Halfway there, however, in the middle of the day, progress comes to an abrupt half when the darkest clouds yet gather suddenly on the horizon and barrel down on the group, bringing with them a glut of snow that reduces visibility to only a few feet and wind that roars so loudly you have to shout to be heard. Magic can help some with heat, but the storm shows little sign of quickly abating and with hours of deadly cold conditions to deal with, digging in and getting cozy for a few hours might be the most feasible solution for everyone.

III. THE VILLAGE

Shortly before the point everyone is aiming for—one marked by an enormous stone carving of an owl, several times taller than a man, that's inexplicably been left by the ancients in the center of the tundra—something else appears not far to the west. On closer inspection, it turns out to be a circle of low-sitting animal-skin tents pressed down into the snow to protect them from wind, rocky fire pits, and abandoned sleighs. Overall, it's a cross between camp and village indicative of a nomadic group that's staying a while but not forever.

It's empty now, with a coating of snow on most of the structures that indicates it's been at least a few days since anyone was here. Closer inspection reveals personal belongings inside the tents, including toys and clothing belonging to children—and, in many tents, chunks of red lyrium in the center or beneath the skins that form the beds, each piece emanating heat. They probably thought it was safer than fire.

Wherever they went, they don't come back while the Inquisition is there. But the activity does get noticed. A few hours after arrival, enormous white bears apparently moving in a pack come within a hundred yards of the camp and pace at a distance, watching the interlopers with wary interest. Some of them are wearing collars or harnesses decorated in the same style as the tents. For enough food, they may come closer, and they'll turn out to be abnormally tame.

IV. THE BATTLE

The red lyrium mine that Corypheus' followers built when their operations were crippled in Emprise du Lion is nestled in an icy canyon, with massive scaffolding built up the sides of the cliff and too many cages to count, though few of them hold living prisoners anymore. It's a massive operation, but one that's been crippled by its distance from civilization. It's sparsely guarded compared to its size, and other than the cliffs, it has minimal natural protection. The enemy has magic-silencing Templars, enormous behemoths, and a chained white-furred giant, but they are clearly not prepared to be attacked.

Ahead of the onslaught, traps are set and any surviving prisoners are evacuated under cover of darkness. Everyone else sent to fight either creeps down shortly before dawn, rappelling quietly to avoid notice in the dark, or waits at the top for the first surprise strike to provide enough distraction for them to descend more openly. If anyone has been particularly nice to the bears (see above) then it is entirely possible they'll allow themselves to be ridden into battle.

Once their presence is known, their orders are pretty simple. Destroy it all. Leave no one behind and nothing worth returning for.

Fire is a good strategy. Red lyrium doesn't do well in heat.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I'm sure it depends on the person. Not everyone is always so pure of intention." In his experiences at least. He'd spent the better part of the last few years rising up in the ranks among those who would sooner see him dead. He knew not everyone could be completely without motive or fault.

Unconsciously his pulse picks up just a bit when she moves closer to him. It was one thing if he was forcing someone to be physically close. He dictated the rules. She was making her own now and it left him slightly nervous. He knew she was doing it just to keep warm but he couldn't help how he felt. No one in their right mind ever touched him willingly, until Rey had extended her hand to him.

His hand settles for her wrist, his gloved fingers curling around it and his thumb resting at her pulse. He wouldn't do something so dreadfully sentimental as put his fingers between hers but this was his way of reminding her of that first touch. He might not be who she thought but he still felt drawn into her orbit.

"You should rest. We can take turns keeping an eye out for the storm to clear, or someone finding us." It was logical, though he was probably more exhausted than she was. Still, he stubbornly refused to close his eyes in her presence.

She tenses as his hand rests on her wrist, though likely not for the reason he'd expect. Her mind goes back to that night that is still so vivid in her mind, a night she's thought about almost every night since waking up with the memory of it. Everything had seemed so clear then, that Ben was the one person who could understand her. It's impossibly muddled now, and she doesn't know what to do in this situation, so she freezes up. The only thing betraying her is her heart, thundering in her chest, quickening her pulse. She's thankful for his gloves, if he weren't wearing them all her thoughts would be laid bare before him.

His telling her to rest is met with resistance, like so many things between him and her. She glances over at him, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip.

"I'm not tired," she says, even though the warming air between them makes the idea of sleep tempting.

Edited 2018-03-23 21:51 (UTC)

"Then what? Do we just sit here and wait?" In complete silence. He was fine with it, but the tension rolling off the both of them made it obvious they both had things on their minds. Whomever chose to speak about it first was up in the air. He wanted to know what was going through her head. Having been shut out by her was making it hard to do just that. He felt as if she owed him that much after he'd saved her life from Snoke's torture. It had cost him enough just doing that in itself, but it had created a unique opportunity for him to be free of his own torment.

"Fine." His lip spress together, frustration keeping his silence ice cold. If this was how she wanted it to be, far be it for him to stop her.

"Resting wouldn't change that," she replies a little shortly, pulling her hand away from his. She's uncomfortable with what seems like an oddly intimate gesture when he's being vaguely hostile towards her. Her head turns away from his from a moment, but there's really not much for her to look at, the side of a blanket. This was easier when they were separated by an entire galaxy.

"Did you come through the rift with your lightsaber?" She knows what she wants to discuss, but somehow she just can't get the right words out. Instead she asks him about his weapon, curious if he's armed. She turns her head back towards him, but doesn't look directly at him, watching him instead out of the corner of her eye.

He lets her pull her hand away, tucking his against his side when she does. For him, it feels as if they go two steps forward and three back. He knows there's no point in justifying himself. Instead he stays silent for a long moment, trying to just focus on the heavy warmth of their blankets. When he finally answers, it's not without him pullling his weapon from his belt to rest in his lap.

"I did. Why?" Does she know that it's broken? He hasn't thought to ask her if any of her weapons were broken but there had been no time to ask before they got here. They had been avoiding one another.

She looks down at the weapon in his lap, her eyes then lifting to his face again. It's still hard for her to wrap her mind around the fact that he's here, this is Thedas, and they're both trapped together. It's a lot of new information being dumped on her all at once, and as a result, she is probably being more hostile than he deserves. Not that he doesn't deserve any hostility, but maybe a little less.

"I'm guessing it doesn't work?" She'd be surprised if it did, both hers and Obi-Wan's had been nonfunctional after passing through the rifts, but his is heavily modified. Maybe something on his is different from theirs and he is more dangerous than he would be if it were non-operational.

He glances towards her, indecision stopping him from answering her immediately. He knows that admitting his weak point would be opening himself up to her exposing it, as anyone with half a brain might do. On the other hand, he didn't lie to Rey. Lies didn't exactly endear a person to your cause and he wasn't in the habit of lying to her. He had yet to do so thus far and had no intention of starting.

"It didn't when I first got here. I haven't had a chance to check it over." Telling the truth, while also instilling the fact that all he'd need was time to get it working again. In the few days he's been here he's had no tools to work on fixing his weapon but that could change when they get to wherever it is this party had intended to take their new comrades.

Rey nods her head, a little surprised that he's being truthful with her. Granted, he has no real reason to lie, other than the fact that he had offered her an impossible choice and she'd fled, and is now blocking their connection as best as she can.

Okay so he's got plenty of reason to lie, and yet he doesn't. Her eyes drift down to his weapon again, and her fingers twitch, wanting to take it and open it up, help him find what's broken and set it right. But she knows he's dangerous with it, and she just doesn't know how he's going to behave in this world. So far he seemed much the same as he'd been in their own world. Conflicted, light and dark raging inside him.

"You'll be able to fix it. I fixed mine." She hesitates, before reaching to unhook her lightsaber, formerly Luke Skywalker's, from her belt, holding it in her lap. Obi-Wan's stays where it is, for now. She doesn't need to let him know she has two, at least not right this second.

It's on the tip of his tongue to correct her, to say that her light saber is his. It belonged to his grandfather and then his uncle. It should belong to him. She might even be able to tell he wants to say as much, with how his expression shifts and he presses his lips together as if he can stop the words from coming out.

That saber had saved both their lives now. He could still remember feeling it's weight in his hands when Rey threw it towards him, the raw power of the crystal igniting the blade to burn a hole into his enemy's head. That same raw power had exploded outwards when their combined efforts to gain ownership of the weapon caused it to split and the subsequent blast had knocked them backwards.

"So it did break. How long did it take you to fix it?" He remembered as much, questioning if it had when he had seen Luke wielding it. It was only after Luke disappeared that he realized it had been an illusion created by the Jedi Master to taunt him and give the rebels time to escape. Hux had been right. He'd gotten distracted. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

His own blade would take a bit of work, he imagines. He had no idea what damage had been caused to the crystal and one wrong move would break it and probably cause a lot of damage. The crystal itself was cracked, unstable, just as its owner was. He'd need caution in restoring it.

Rey realizes he misunderstands her when she says she'd fixed her lightsaber and she shakes her head.

"It... it did break on the Supremacy, but that wasn't what I had to fix. It was in-tact when I came here." Which is something strange, and not exactly something she's been thinking too hard about. She's just grateful that it had been in a serviceable state when she'd woken up after all her new memories surging into her.

"The damage is mostly superficial, it only took me a few weeks to fix it, once I knew what I was doing. I had help." She'd mentioned that there'd been someone else before, when she'd explained Padawan's name, but hadn't gone into more detail. Maybe now was a good time for that. "Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi was here. He was Padawan's original partner."

"How? It was - I thought it split in half... but the Rift gave it to you intact." He knows that's not a question she could answer so easily. No one seemed to understand anything about these rifts save for the things it spat out into Thedas - people and, apparently, items from home. At the mention of Obi-Wan Kenobi, his brows shoot up.

"But he'd be long dead." Another mystery. And yet here they were, both very much alive. She'd had no memories of the things he did save for dreams. His presence confirmed her dreams to be real. "You... you actually met him."

His brows knit, conflict stirring up inside of him as he felt a mixture of pride and awe, tangled with distaste for the old ways of the Jedi. Obi-wan was his namesake, something he keeps to himself for now. If the Jedi Master had told her of his old nickname while he'd been in hiding, she would make the connection on her own. He no longer went by Ben any more than Obi-Wan did. Still, the connection stings in much the same way holding his father's dice had. Seeing those dice in the abandoned mine that belonged to the Resistance had been a stab to the heart.

Once upon a time Ben Solo had told anyone who would listen that he would be a great pilot like his father. He had dreams of exploring the galaxy in every far off corner, beaming with pride as he held onto his father's dice like a talisman. In it's own way, his name was like a talisman too. It had been a symbol for the hopes that his mother had in men like Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Edited (whoops a few typos here and there) 2018-03-26 05:50 (UTC)

She can feel that conflict, pressing on her walls, spreading around her like a shroud. His emotions always seemed so open to her, even now. The details are lost on her right now, but something about Obi-Wan was significant to him. Maybe it's simply that he had been Vader's master, before he'd been Vader. Maybe it's something else. Without letting her walls down, she can't really say.

"He was young. This place... it seems to pull people from different times. Maybe he would have remembered the things with Luke in time, but he didn't know his name when I knew him. He came from the middle of the Clone Wars. I trained with him." She speaks of him fondly, a soft smile touching her lips as she remembers her master with fondness. He had been exactly the kind of teacher she'd needed, and even with all her new memories, his are still the lessons she holds dear.

"I don't know what happened, but one day he just... wasn't here anymore. I couldn't feel him in the Force, but I know he wasn't dead. Not here, anyway."

And just like that he clamps shut the lid on his emotions. He was interested in meeting the old relic, if only to meet someone who had known his grandfather and might even give him insight far better than his uncle or his parents ever could. The passing interest died out like a flame only to be piqued again when she mentions that she trained with him.

"And he was a better teacher for you than Luke, I'm assuming. I can feel it in the Force. You've gotten stronger." It was different than before. Where he was only mildly aware her growing strength was siphoned from his own through their bond, this was a strength in the Force all her own. It was a strength he would have wanted to nurture himself, when he offered to teach her. He wouldn't have shunned her power as Luke might have.

"Good. None of us truly belongs here except those who actually live here. We're like a disruption. I'm surprised no one's come out and blamed us for these rifts." At least they haven't blamed him directly. For all he knows that thought has been passed around and he knows it would be something Rey would vehemently fight against.

"You were a better teacher than Luke," Rey exhales, saying it before she really realizes what she's saying. She's had several days to mull over things that had happened, and while her anger at Luke for what he had done to Ben had cooled somewhat, she is still frustrated with him. Frustrated that the legend that had refused to give up on Darth Vader had somehow been unable to do the same for a child he had helped raise. She tamps that down before she's swept away in those emotions, shaking her head and tucking her lightsaber back down to her side.

"They have blamed us in the past. You'll see once we get to Kirkwall, not everyone trusts us. There are several rifters with places of power within the Inquisition, people don't... love that." She grasps for the subject change, hoping he wasn't able to pick up on her thoughts drifting through the cracks in her wall, her frustrations that she hadn't had a chance to share with him.

He can't hide his surprise and immediate satisfaction at hearing her say he was a better teacher than Luke. Of course he was. Luke, while he had taught him some things, had always been so steeped in the age old Jedi Order that he hadn't seen the things that were right in front of him that his own nephew had needed. Hearing Rey praise him, even in the smallest way, left him with a small bit of hope to latch onto. He would eventually start getting greedy just to have more thoughts like this come from her.

"And that makes you angry." He doesn't need their connection in the force to be able to tell that much but he can still feel echoes of it humming in the back of his mind as thoughts that weren't his own. He tries pressing back, curiosity getting the better of him. If she was willing to open herself up to him again then perhaps they could let what happened on the Supremacy go. The unfortunate part of this thinking is that his own thoughts would eventually betray him as hers were doing her.

"You want to prove to them that you're just as worthy as anyone else." He knows that she does. It's who Rey is. She wants to solidify a place for herself, no matter what. It would reaffirm the belief that she wasn't completely alone and had a place she belonged. She had searched for that place in Han Solo and Luke Skywalker. He felt for her. He was so desperate to carve his own path too, in his own way.

Edited (some weird typos my bad) 2018-03-27 03:13 (UTC)

Her lips press into a thin line as she feels him pressing against her defenses, her eyes fixed on the blanket hanging in front of her face. She doesn't want to let him in, doesn't know why the barrier is so difficult to keep up.

"I have proved that," she replies, firmly. She has made a life for herself here, even though it was a struggle at times and she felt lost often. Still feels lost, especially these past several days. She hates that she'd just started to feel like she belonged somewhere, and then she'd been turned on her head. Exhaling she turns her head again, looking at him out of the corner of her eye, her expression carefully blank.

"I'm head of maintenance on the Gallows, I work within the Inquisition on different projects. There are vendors in Lowtown that will deal with me even though they don't deal with most rifters. I've been here long enough to have a reputation."

He can tell she's fighting him and so he backs off, feeling disappointed that nothing seems to have changed after all. Instead he focuses on their conversation. He felt almost defensive at the way she spoke, as if she needed to be defensive about what he's said.

"I didn't say you hadn't. Only that these people might not recognize your value the way I do." His lips are pressed in a line again, his irritation firmly in place again. How was she so easily able to make him feel angry with just a few simple words?

"Clearly I was wrong, if they've put you in a position of power." It's something so mediocre as maintenance but it was better than her life on Jakku, clearly. Scavenging for scraps to feed herself for another day in that hellish desert wasn't a life she needed to live anymore. She deserved a better life. He can see now why this might be more appealing than his desire to go home.

Rey bristles a little at the way he said that, from his saying he recognizes her value to the insinuation that she was in a place of power. Maintenance really was a bare-bones department, she was mostly head because there were only a few other people who worked in it. She's not telling him that, though.

"Unkar Plutt saw value in me, too," she snaps, the look she shoots him one betraying how much that wording hurts her. He's cracked her armor, found just the right place to strike to really hurt her. Even after the Supremacy part of her had hoped that he saw her as more than just a potential weapon, something he could use and shape as he wanted. Right now she feels like she's wrong.

It would be so easy for him to lose his temper, to raise his voice or to strike out at her, but he doesn't want to. He never wants to hurt her, only meet somewhere in the middle. Somehow they never have been able to achieve that. He wanted her to join him still, to destroy all the things that had hurt them for so long. All the old institutions that people created at the expense of others could die with them. He wanted to burn it to the ground and this place too would most definitely be no different. There would always be something. He wasn't naive enough to think otherwise, even if it meant seeing shadows everywhere he looked.

"You're more than what that slimey scab saw in you. You've always been more. Now that it doesn't frighten you, I know you see it too." He can't see into her thoughts her her emotions like before, just glimpses. It would take too much effort to push at her defenses again.

"Rey. I told you you could join me and together we could rule the galaxy. I know I wasn't wrong. I know that that's what it needs. We can find a way back together, we can fix all of it. You don't need to shackle yourself to this place." Because somehow that seemed to be their only problem right now, in his view. She was settled into this place and had been for a long time. Her place was with him, back home in their world. This place was insignificant compared to what he wanted back home. He would tear the Veil down if that's what it took to go home.

While these thoughts passed through him the darkness in his heart felt more solid, resembling something like gnashing teeth that thirsted within his heart. That thirst was directed at her. He wanted so badly for her to see things the way he did, no matter what. He wanted, more than anything in his entire life, an equal and someone who understood him.

Edited 2018-03-28 01:48 (UTC)

She feels like he missed her meaning, but it doesn't matter as he makes that same plea he'd made in Snoke's throne room. Rule the galaxy. The thought makes her stomach turn, and she tenses, wrapping her arms around herself. This had been something she'd been thinking about for days, how she could have made the scenario go differently, changed things so he'd come with her. Changed things so that people didn't end up dead.

So far, she hadn't come up with anything, and she knows that he's only going to change his mind when he realizes on his own that it's a disaster. Letting out a hollow laugh at his telling her she's shackled herself she looks over at him, her eyes burning.

"You think I've shackled myself to this place? That I don't want to go back? I do. I might have found a place here, but I had a place there, too. With the Resistance." She bites down on the words, making it clear that she doesn't want what he's offered her.

"I've been here a year and a half. I have a friend who has been here three years. There may not be any going back, and I'm not going to... sit around waiting for a day that might never come." It hurts to admit, but after the blue flu, she's had to admit to herself that sometimes waiting hurts her more than the truth.

"Maybe shackled wasn't the right word." He feels his own temper rising and it takes effort to try his best not to let the tension have power over him. He takes a breath, steadying himself. "I've been here less than a week. Being here a year or more... that can't be how this goes."

They needed to go back. Why he was in such a rush to do whatever it took to do that, not even he completely understood. Being cut off from the First Order took him away from the purpose in his life that he had worked for, even if all it had ever done for him was leave him volatile and downtrodden by Snoke's hand.

"I just need to know that if we're going to try and find a way back, that it really is us and not just me alone." Because he couldn't do any of it alone. He needed her. That might make her seem like an object to be used, but he could find no higher compliment than to be useful to someone he cared about.

She does understand his desire to return to something familiar, but at the same time she feels the odd desire to try and convince him that this is where they're meant to be. She shoves it down, falling into silence for a long stretch, considering her options here. She could refuse, but she knows there likely is no point in that. Others have tried to find a way to their homes to no avail, as persistent as Kylo is, she still doesn't know if he'd have any kind of luck.

"I'll help you," she finally says, her hands sliding down to Padawan's neck, her fingers curling into the dog's fur. "But that also means you need to listen to me. If something is dangerous, or people will get killed, it isn't worth us getting home." She turns her head to look at him, her jaw set. He might be fine with collateral damage, but she's not.

I'll help you. He remembers another time she's offered her help to him and he, so stuck on his pride, had insisted that she would be the one to turn to darkness. Neither of them had turned from their chosen path and Rey had only left him disappointed. Still, she had let him live and he branded her as foolish for it. Perhaps now they might actually meet somewhere in the middle.

"Fine. I think I can manage that." Even if part of him cared very little for others if it meant getting what he desired. He would compromise on this for the sake of her cooperation.

Some of the tension pulsing through her eases as he agrees to her request, though she doesn't feel entirely at ease. She wishes she did, but while they both had their disappointments hanging between them, it seems unlikely for things to go back to the way they'd been before, when she'd been looking to him for answers where Luke didn't offer them.

"There's nothing we can do here, but once we get back to the Gallows there should be resources available for you to explore." She's not entirely sure how much of ways to get Rifters home has been studied, truthfully.

He doesn't have anything to say to that in particular, instead focusing on being warm. He curls up his long legs tighter into himself - as much as he can with her animal curled up in their laps. Already he was questioning whether there was really much to find, if she had already been here a year and others had been here longer. What could he do then? He couldn't exactly rule a galaxy if he couldn't even get to it. What kind of life could he make for himself here?

"Assuming there is anything to find. You've been here a year. You'd know that better than I would." She was humoring him, he realizes. It really wasn't making him feel better. He felt useless just thinking about trying to find something and coming up empty handed.

OPEN ↠ HEART LIKE ICE

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