AUGUST RIFTER ARRIVAL

[faderifting]

WHO: New rifters, rescuers, and anyone else
WHAT: New arrivals are collected and transported to Kirkwall
WHEN: Mid-August
WHERE: Southern Tevinter, then the Gallows
NOTES: This log contains prompts for the ARRIVAL and RECOVERY of new rifters, which are closed to new rifters and to the characters involved in the catacombs escape/rescue team in the Tevinter plot. It also contains a new QUARANTINE prompt that is open to everyone.

Comments

[connorrk800]

At the mention of his 'brother' he looks across the inn. He can't see him now, but he knew he was there a moment ago. He turns back to her. "My name is Connor," he inclines his head to her. "I was manufactured in Detroit, Michigan."

"I believe I am experiencing several serious malfunctions, likely due to physical trauma. My perception is flawed," as he says this, a corner of his mouth pinches in a faint expression of disgust. His tone is calm enough, pleasant, but he's guarded too. "It... seems to me that I fell out of the sky and into a river. That I..." he glances down at his hands. He sighs and gathers himself and confesses: "That I've become alive."

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

Jang pauses for a moment, parsing the information. "Hm. Well, at least you're from America, that's somethin." Her accent is odd, a western style drawl that is rather out of place. "Detroit...Last I heard the place was under British occupation again, but well, that's where I'm from. And when, come to think of it. 1893 was when I got taken to this place. What year is it back where you're from?"

She pauses a moment, still thinking. "And...manufactured? Are you...I dunno, some kinda robot? If so, you're like nothin' I've ever seen before."

[connorrk800]

Connor nods. "Correct. I was made in CyberLife's Bele Isle Assembly plant and released in November 2038. I am a machine that looks like a human, or... I was? It would seem, by any apparent evidence that I have become human, as impossible as that is." He pauses to rub his temple. The sensation there is unpleasant and intensifies as he strains to think clearly. His hand comes away and drops slowly as he realizes this was where his LED should be, but clearly isn't any longer.

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

"Huh...That's...well, that's new...2038...damn." Jang rather thrown off by this, it's one thing to know that people come from diffrent worlds, but from your world, far in the future? That raises a number of intresting questions.

Jang nods at his forhead. "Headache? Heh, wonders of being human, all the downsides. I suppose if you gave me a while I may be able to come up with some upsides as well. What was your job back in 2038?" Conversations topics between a hex-slinger from 1890 and a robot from 2038 are gonna be limited, but she may as well try.

[connorrk800]

He smiles a bit when she says there could, potentially, be upsides to being human. Right now, he almost envies the androids he was designed to hunt down; at least they remained what they were, often chose to become deviant... It's true that they were mistaken; they were not, in fact, alive, whereas he ... seemingly is.

"I was designed to assist human detectives with their investigations," he says smoothly. It comes easily to him like a well-rehearsed pitch. He decides to gloss over the part about how he never actually left the warehouse. He lowers his eyes. "I didn't get to do much..." He looks up. "How about you?"

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

"Oooh, that's neat! You were a detective eh? I did a bit of that back home. Never got the tin star or anything, and to be fair, back home was a bit more direct in their investigations. I was a freelance, more or less, namely cause there weren't a lot of people who had my skillset and knew what I knew. Did a bit of work during the war, but that was too big for me. Can't fix a war, but I can damn sure find a kidnapped girl someone was gonna sacrifice to some dark god or another."

Jang waves a server over and orders two ales. "Here, a upside to being human, something that I'll bet robots couldn't do. Have a drink. Drink it slow though, if you're new at this, no need to try an impress anyone."

[connorrk800]

"Thank you," he nods. "I tried to stop a war..." he looks around the inn again. There was no sign of the deviant, though. Connor looks at Jane and wonders how much he should confide in her. She seems to be taking everything he's said in stride, so he's not worried that she would be out of her depth. But being too open might cause... complications later on. "I failed," he shrugs with his hands.

The ale arrives before long and Connor turns the vessel around gingerly. First he cranes his head over it and sniffs, and then he takes a minute sip. He's difficult to read; he makes faces as he swallows, then sips again. "It's... difficult to define," he says after his third sip. There's a near-total blank where his catalogue of tastes should be. He has heard of such drinks described as 'crisp,' and tasting like other things: fruits and berries. He doesn't know what fruit and berries taste like either. "It... tastes," he says awkwardly and winces. "Yeah."

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

Jang gives him a slow nod when he talks about the war. "Mmm...Wars have momentum, ya know? The one back home, that's been going on damn near 20 years. The original point of it doesn't matter anymore. Now it's just we're fighting cause you're fighting us." She stops shuffling and looks Connor in the eyes. "But you tried. That counts for a lot in my book at least. You tried to stop it. Maybe it didn't work, but you did your best, right? Sometimes that's all you can say, You did your best. It may not have been enough, but you did all you could, and no reason to be ashamed of that."

Jang grins again at his expression on tasting the ale. "Yah, it does taste. I'd rather have some nice Bourbon whiskey instead of this, but eh. Needs must. Don't suppose you ever played cards back home? Do they let robots gamble?"

[connorrk800]

"I was not designed to fail--" he stops himself. The bitterness in his voice surprises him. It's not accusatory- it's directed inward. She doesn't know what that means, what failure means, to him. She's right, though. Humans... humans made mistakes; no one would kill them just to analyze their body, to learn why they made a mistake. Being human means making mistakes.

"The Android Act did not prohibit gambling per se," he says. "However, androids could not own property, and so we had nothing to gamble with." He shows his empty hands.

He takes another sip of the ale. He's still not sure what it tastes like, but it's not unpleasant, and he thinks it may be helping him to relax. At least he feels less annoyed, more himself. He tilts his head. "You mentioned a case- a kidnapping?"

[whiskeyandbrimstone]

"Well come on, there's always something to gamble with, even if it's just chits and ego you're betting. Do you know how to play?" The deck shuffles back and forth in her hands, as she smiles the friendly smile of teaching someone how to gamble.

"Ahh...the kiddnapping case, that was intresting. It was me, Doc McGuire, a Sioux shaman named Eyota and Martin Walls. We were following up on three other missing people, all from the same area. Managed to connect that to a robbery, someone stole an old mystical book months ago. Managed to get a partial translation and found out they were trying to gather power through sacrifice. Eyota and Martin managed to track down their location, and once we found that...well, let me tell you, never went anywhere without Eyota again, she saved my ass that night. And we saved the kidnapped girl..."

She pauses for a bit, a sadder look coming over her face. "Just the one though...We were a bit late."