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

[kyrr]

Tofa has been watching from a distance, her eyes careful as the new arrivals come. She's quite new herself - she's barely been here a month and has spent much of her time with her sister - but the Rifters are something different. They're novel, unique, and she has not met many of them; not enough to get a true grasp of who they are. Instead, she seeks to learn about them now, to see what their worlds are and how they compare to here, to home.

One of them catches her attention and Tofa frowns, head tilting, watching. It takes her a few moments to step closer, and she feels huge and bulking with her six and a half foot height hovering over the other people around her. Eventually, she tries to catch her attention, beginning to motion.

She points at her own hand, where an Anchor might be, and winces. Sign for Does it hurt?

[wont_be_me]

The casual antagonism on Carla's face turns to something more thoughtful, contemplating the very large woman. Cold and clockwork, she quickly calculates whether or not she is being threatened for her behavior or not. Is that the promise of wincing, or--

She flexes her hand with the anchor in it, then holds it out palm up for inspection. The woman's face had lacked the sternness or anger of a threat, so why not try this instead. While visually distinct, touching it only feels like flesh.

"They tell me I'm stuck with it," she offers wryly.

[kyrr]

Tofa doesn't intend to harm her, and she hopes the relaxed nature of her shoulders is enough to show the stranger that she doesn't want to bring her any trouble. She's just curious, interested, wanting to learn more - not a threat. She doesn't think Magni would appreciate any suggestion that her sister might have turned violent and it's not in her nature to be vicious.

Slowly, she moves closer and touches her fingers to Carla's; she doesn't feel anything different. It doesn't even feel as though there is something more under the skin, something that would explain the bright green glow that all people with shards seem to have. Her head tilts, frowning, as she leans closer.

Hearing Carla speak, she leans back and nods. It's a little awkward as she tries to make some kind of sign and motion to explain herself; without a tongue she can't communicate as well as she might like. You are safe.

[wont_be_me]

Sign isn't one of her better languages, due to its expressiveness and improvisations, but she understands the need of it. Some people don't talk, and found their own ways. It's a tenacity she can appreciate, and a challenge she doesn't mind. She sits with surprising patience to let Tofa examine the thing in her hand. Patience isn't generally one of her virtues, but she's thinking. About how to unravel more conversation, about how to get the anchor out when it's clearly metaphysical in nature, about the fact that not everyone here understands the anchor any more than she does. Fast-paced thoughts, running on their own unique threads as she stores information for later.

"What do you do for the Inquisition?"

An odd choice for the welcoming committee, so she must be here for some other reason. Maybe it was just curiosity and nothing more, were Carla in her place she wouldn't be any more subtle in it.

[kyrr]

The obvious problem is, of course, that Tofa is unable to express herself in any verbal capacity. She can't explain why that is, and without her sister present it's not entirely possible for anyone to understand the reasons why Tofa is so, so silent. It would be awkward for anyone else to hear it anyway, the kind of discomfort that comes from baring a kind of familial secret that most of the Hold would like to keep to themselves.

At least she's able to get a close look at the Anchors, to see more of them. It's not something she's been able to do thus far, and she appreciates this even if she can't express it; careful fingers touch and tease, gentle, careful, before they slip away and give the other woman her fingers and hand back. It would be silly to keep holding on to it.

The question stops her and she lifts her hand, motioning at the daggers at her side and then to the area around them, before she draws a line across her throat. Protection, or something like it; to fight.

[wont_be_me]

She takes her hand back, settling back into her chair lazily. She supposes she should have guessed such an obvious use for such a large individual. Though she could just as easily assumed the woman was a stonemason or cattle herd. People carrying around weapons in a garrison hardly denoted anything. Until they were motioned to as the denotation.

Carla smiles sideways, eyes heavy-lidded.

"So you are here to intimidate me."

It's a bit of a joke, she also just wants to see the reaction and consider its implications.

[kyrr]

Her reaction to that suggestion is immediate, her eyes widening briefly before her nose wrinkles. She knows she can appear intimidating - she stands far, far taller than many other people might, even here in Kirkwall - but she doesn't think she comes across as some kind of rough guard. No, that is hardly her intention, and she shakes her head. Sure and firm; no, not here to intimidate.

If it is meant as a joke it's clear that Tofa does not recognise it as such.

Slowly, her fingers begin to move, as if considering her words intensely before she signs them out.

A motion at Carla, and then a motion at herself, with a raised thumb. Like you. Visitor. She's not sure how to express that her sister is here and so instead she frowns, frustrated.

[wont_be_me]

Carla's smile doesn't move or change, she looks neither intimidated nor apologetic for what she said. She repeats some of the gestures back at Tofa-- me, you. Then she makes a gesture that assuredly reads slightly rude: I'm fucking with you.

The smile widens.

"I'm Carla."

[kyrr]

For a moment, all Tofa does is stare at her before, slowly, her eyes begin to narrow. She doesn't like the idea of someone playing around with her and messing with her, but she swallows back the sound of frustration. Instead, she shakes her head and breathes out, stepping back and lifting her hands.

Slowly, she begins to spell out her name using letters.

T - O - F - A.