RIFTER ARRIVAL: Guardian 9:45

[faderifting]

WHO: New rifters, rescuers, and anyone else
WHAT: New arrivals are collected and transported to Kirkwall
WHEN: Mid-Guardian, 9:45
WHERE: The hills north of Starkhaven
NOTES: This log contains prompts for the ARRIVAL and RECOVERY of new rifters, as well as the subsequent QUARANTINE period. All prompts are open to anyone.

Comments

CARLA | IS AN ASS

[wont_be_me]

ARRIVAL - YOU DON'T NEED ME FOR THIS
She lands on the stairs with a bounce, all the little metal instruments threaded into the leather loops of her jacket jingling. She rolls at least twice before she catches herself with her hand, swearing sharply. She isn't normally given to swearing, but there was always shock and there was always anger to pull that kind of flavor out of you. As she's getting up, she's already idly wondering if they threw her off the ship, landed somewhere while she was sleeping and just opened the hatch and pushed her out. That wouldn't surprise her, there was little enough loyalty among them besides the mutual desire to not be caught and taken to whichever interplanetary court had jurisdiction over their respective warrants. Whether or not she's been dumped, she doesn't know where this is and has no way of establishing it, so she just brushes the grit out of her bleeding palm... Tries to anyway, the thing in her palm does not wish to be brushed

She gets little enough time to fuss with it before the visitors are upon her. She does not assume they are demons, nor ghosts. She assumes they are aliens. Too many aliens to fight, and who apparent have other aliens to war with so... She really doesn't need to be here, does she?

She starts to slip away. Her only question when someone comes to fetch her is a sly: "I'm not under arrest, am I?"

RECOVERY - AT NIGHT
Even after she's been returned to the campsite, she's difficult to keep still. She's not really listening about the demons, or the Fade. All she really seems to care about is admiring the craftsmanship of the thaig. She keeps climbing on things, moving too far away from the group as she sticks her head into house and hovel. Will she probably steal some shit? Yes, she probably will, if it looks useful.

RECOVERY - AT DAY
She looks at the horse, frowning. "What kind of inbred mount is that?"

Oscyrians, as you will all unfortunately come to learn, have high standards for the physical body, not ending at just their own. They have genetically modified most species to match their ideas of perfection, and this is assuredly not it.

WILDCARD
Do whatever you want, can pm or ping me too.