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

[rathercommon]

"Neither are you," she replies tartly. And then she wonders why she feels irritated over that comment. Ugh, Bartimaeus has the most frustrating ability to get under your skin.

She tries to release her frustration with a long breath. Be helpful. "And no. There's no summoner. Not as far as we know. If there's anything, it's this." She raises her hand to show the green fleck. "We can control portals with these - portals into the Fade. So these things- they seem to be what drew us here. But if a person was involved...they haven't made themselves known yet. Which, by this point, they ought to have done."

[reshapes]

"Unless they don't want you to know. Haven't you ever thrown a rock through a window and played dumb when someone came around asking?"

Purely hypothetically speaking, of course. He's never thrown a rock through a window in his life. He has however thrown quite a few other things through and out them, the grossly short list being: himself, a spear bound with the spirit of the great Afrit Ukba (not as disrespectful as it sounds, really), a wheelbarrow full of bricks (not technically rocks), and a certain crown prince of Numidia.

Anyway. Not the point.

"I assume someone's already tried just jumping back through the nearest portal, eh?"

[rathercommon]

"Yeah." She hesitates, debating whether to admit this, then decides there's no reason not to. Aside from the fact that Bartimaeus will have some choice comments. Which she can put up with.

"I ended up dragged along on that trip. There wasn't any way back through there." She sighs and shakes her head. "Anyway, don't magicians generally order you about soon as you're summoned? Isn't that how it works?"

[reshapes]

Choice comments later to come, apparently.

"Well generally, sure. But generally I don't fall out of a hole in the world, down a flight of stairs, and into a brawl either. If I had to hazard a guess, I'd say I've been somehow lost in transit."

Here, the boy pauses. Maybe if he holds a moment, the nonsensical shape of it all will suddenly unknot itself and present a clear solution. He waits maybe a second for it to do that. When it stubbornly resists, he pivots:

"You know, this all seems like a conversation that would be much better to have outside of a cell."

[rathercommon]

Here, Kitty responds without much hesitation. She'd expected this request earlier, so she's got an answer ready to go.

"I expect it would. Not something I can take care of, though."

[reshapes]

And there goes the apparent good will that the whole mystery of his circumstances had inspired in him. Bartimaeus wrinkles his nose, sighs, and sags back to lying on the cell floor.

"In that case, I'm tired of being poked and prodded. Don't you have anything better to do than sit there and taunt me with your freedom?"