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( closed ) PLAYER PLOT: STILL WATERS
WHO: Alistair, Herian, Myr, Nell, Prompto, Saoirse, Wren.
WHAT: ( Plot post ) Shady rumours concerning the Tranquil lead to a remote Circle in the Northern Anderfels. Its relative isolation from the rest of Thedas has prevented news from reaching the Inquisition sooner. Our crack team investigates.
WHEN: forward dated, around 21st-ish Cloudreach
WHERE: Salzklippe, the Anderfels.
NOTES: Content Warning for violence, murder, and other grim Dragon Age things. The grief demon threads in particular include themes of death, suicide, and gore. Please add additional warnings to subject lines where necessary.
WHAT: ( Plot post ) Shady rumours concerning the Tranquil lead to a remote Circle in the Northern Anderfels. Its relative isolation from the rest of Thedas has prevented news from reaching the Inquisition sooner. Our crack team investigates.
WHEN: forward dated, around 21st-ish Cloudreach
WHERE: Salzklippe, the Anderfels.
NOTES: Content Warning for violence, murder, and other grim Dragon Age things. The grief demon threads in particular include themes of death, suicide, and gore. Please add additional warnings to subject lines where necessary.
  — Making the approach (group thread) — Into the catacombs (individual starters) — Discovering the lake (group thread) — Into the tower (individual starters) — Bossfight (multiple group-ish) — Later Stuff (individual starters) FOR GROUP THREADS: in order to keep threads moving, I will be aiming to do a GM tag once every 24 hours. Don't worry about a strict tagging order, but please don't tag more than three times every 24 hours, just to make sure no one gets left behind. |
no subject
He doesn't know. He just doesn't know. What does he do? He clutches his head, fingers digging into his scalp. What he wouldn't give to have Iggy himself here, or Aranea, or someone to-
“They might not. But they’d try for one of their own.”
Prompto's head snaps up, surprised to see... is that Myr? Astrals, he almost didn't recognize him without the blindfold.
“If It were possible, d’you think I’d go about as I do?”
No, no he wouldn't. And if anyone can speak to that, it's Myr. Still, it's hard, having that last bit of hope crushed; his shoulders sag with the feeling. There's no helping Ignis. But at least he has an answer, because Myr and Saoirse both wouldn't lie to him.
"...thank you." He smiles at Myr. "I just hoped - well, even if there was a way, that's Iggy's choice, not mine." His hand reaches over to give Saoirse's hand a squeeze before he turns to Lupeo. "Sorry. I might be a rifter, but that doesn't mean they don't care about me."
no subject
There is a momentary beeping sound, a flicker of light. Something distinctly unnatural, and less in the manner of magic and more the unhealthy greenish white of fluorescents. Lupeo begins to twist, body falling away as though charred, black ashes peeling off like burned paper carried on the breeze, blue coals and black smoke coming up in the spaces where Lupeo's skin had once been.
They are viewing Insomnia through a window no longer, and are instead in the cold metal of a laboratory. Modern, though, utterly alien to the likes to Myr and Saoirse and even Lupeo, but that just makes it all the more exciting.
"Unit zero-five-nine-five-three-two-three-four confirmed.
Warning: this unit has been compromised. Initiating retrieval of compromised unit."
Retrieval. Compromised.
Her voice is so different; mechanical, detached, the words shaped unnaturally, without the natural flow of speech. There is a sound like air being released, pressure relieved, and Saoirse and Myr are contained in glass tubes, touched with a strange green light. (They are not the only capsules. They are not the only figures encased.)
"They did care. But your old friends used to, as well. You held on so desperately."
no subject
Prompto sucks in a breath, body rigid in fear and shock as the scene unfurls around him. The rows of tubes, the noises, the lights - it's all the same. He's back in that awful place, the place of his "birth". Short of Verstael or Ardyn showing up, it's a scene straight from his memory. What little stability and confidence he got from Saoirse and Myr quickly evaporates as panic sets in.
"What did you do to Saoirse and Myr?!" he demands as he searches the glass tubes, heart slamming against his chest with each one he passes. "None of my friends are 'old', they're all still my friends!"
no subject
The voice twists, distorts. Echoes now, along the rows, an oddly polished, posh element to it.
There's no solid form, or at least, not one easily visible amongst the glass tubes of clones. So similar to Prompto, if Prompto had not yet acquired his spark. They are just bodies, suspended, left without personhood.
"You were made to bring their destruction."
no subject
The clones of him - his brothers in a twisted way - make him recoil. He hates looking in the tubes, and yet he keeps trying. He has to find Myr and Saoirse.
"But that's not what I am. I'm their friend. Ignis said I told them and they accepted me." He tries to find the source of the voice, too, but he can't see anyone else outside the rows and rows of clones around them. "Now tell me where Saoirse and Myr are!"