WHO: sam drake, beth greene, laura kint, & YOU WHAT: open post to try and get back into the groove. starters in comments, hmu for something custom. WHEN: post-modplot, generally in august WHERE: the gallows, kirkwall NOTES: tbd
It's disorienting at first, but he's run rooftops for decades--if a little vertigo was enough to do him in, he wouldn't've made it this far to start with. And like a cliff's edge, once your senses adjust, it's worth the half-second your brain can't keep up. "Jesus Christ."
The point is, the place is beautiful, even if it feels like a hangover bearing down on you in slow motion. Undiscovered paths from long-lost peoples, whole chunks of a world just hanging there in an endless sky. He's going to be coming back here every chance he gets.
In the meanwhile, though, there's a flickering light ahead. He nods toward it. "Got any idea what that is?"
[ around kirkwall. ]
He's spent enough time at the Gallows since he was quarantined, thanks. At this point, Sam's mostly liable to be found there to sleep and eat.
The taverns get more than a little of his time (and more than a little of his coin, as a result). Gotta figure out which ones are worth hanging around at, which aren't. It's not hard to find him at a table or up at the bar, especially if there's a woman there to chat up. (Maybe you're the woman. Who knows.)
Same with the marketplace, where he's chatting with merchants, examining the merchandise, wandering around without a care in the world. And when he haggles, it's with the attitude of someone who mastered the skill long ago, doing it for the love of it. "You sure you can't go any lower? 'Cause I don't mind walking away. See? Here I go."
You might be asking yourself: Hightown? Lowtown? The docks? The alienage? Sam Drake's like a cat, though--he goes where he wants. Even, at least once, Darktown, if only out of curiosity. At one point, he grabs a skinny wrist trying to lift some cash from his jeans pocket. "I wouldn't do that, pal."
wildcard.
[ Want to hit me with something unexpected? Go for it. Want a bespoke starter? Grab me on plurk or discord. ]
Turns out everyone has to go here eventually. To map it, to learn more about it--and in Beth's case, to get familiar with what it even is. And it sounds cool, magic and dreams all mixed into one. Go in with a partner, follow the paths.
But her first steps go from fascinated to seasick when she crosses the threshold of the mirror (eluvian, it's called an eluvian), her head swimming. Everything feels slightly off, a little groan escaping her as she tries to find her balance. "Um--is it supposed to--be like this?"
Almost everyone's been in Riftwatch longer than her. She's figuring her partner'll know.
[ around the gallows. ]
The Gallows is pretty nice, by Beth's standards--like the prison she used to live in, but with baths and cooks and solid doors. And after the firefights and sieges and diplomatic missions and everything else from the last month, she's pretty content to hang out there, for the most part.
Her bedroom is frequently closed up and locked tight, but sometimes she leaves the door open. Inside, it's a cozy room, with broadsides and illustrations pasted up on the walls and a small collection of figurines standing on a shelf. She's fussing with her first purchase of any consequence, a round-bellied lute not unlike the one she'd tried out in Bastien's office. Anyone on the fourth floor of the old Templar Tower is probably going to hear it being played like it's actually an acoustic guitar, strummed and plucked at all hours of the day (and some of the night).
More and more, she comes to the training yard, where she doesn't know a lot what she's doing, but she's trying. People have given her things to try, exercises to make her faster with a knife, and there's plenty of practice dummies to use them on.
Sometimes she ends up in a chapel or prayer garden, sitting quietly and staring at...well, not much. Very healthy, very normal. The chapel's a perfect place to hide during a thunderstorm, especially.
And sometimes she's at the tennis court. "You wanna play? You'll...have to tell me what the rules are here."
[ wildcard. ]
[ Want to hit me with something unexpected? Go for it. Want a bespoke starter? Grab me on plurk or discord. ]
Sometimes--starting around dusk, occasionally continuing right on til dawn--there's a shadow that lurks in corners and crouches on rooftops. It moves through the darkness in silence and waits for danger. And when danger arises, it leaps out and punches.
She keeps her hood up despite the heat, stays out of view, does everything she can to prevent would-be criminals from seeing who's prevented them from whatever they've attempted: theft, assault, something yet worse. But tonight, she's attacked a mugger who attacked right back, and in the fray, her cowl's knocked back from her face. (In return, she knocks him unconscious.)
It wouldn't be a problem--the mugger's victim has already run--if not for the fact that there's another shadow. Someone at the other end of the alleyway has stopped, is looking at her and the thief at her feet. She freezes, her pale face lit by the moons above, hands formed into loose fists as though to anticipate a fight.
[ around. ]
Laura can always be counted upon in a few places. The marketplaces in Kirkwall are a particular favourite, whether she's buying something or not. Her favourite stalls sell spices, jewelry, and little trinkets that exist for reasons beyond usefulness. Find her there, and she might ask your opinion of something, or simply say hello.
The dining hall in the Gallows is a reliable location as well, where she eats a surprising amount and attacks her food with a fork and one of the ghostly claws in her hands. If you haven't seen a girl with blades in her fists before, it might be a bit of a surprise.
(Or later, when the dining's over - and generally very carefully not when Mrs. Fitcher holds her usual games - she might be sat at a table with a deck of cards. Sometimes, there's a cat beside her, licking its paws. "Do you play?")
Her favourite place in the Gallows, though, is the battlements, where she can watch the sea. Did she use the staircase to get up there or climb some walls? Don't worry about it. It's a good place to be, a better place to consider talking.
wildcard.
[ Want to hit me with something unexpected? Go for it. Want a bespoke starter? Grab me on plurk or discord. ]
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sam drake.
It's disorienting at first, but he's run rooftops for decades--if a little vertigo was enough to do him in, he wouldn't've made it this far to start with. And like a cliff's edge, once your senses adjust, it's worth the half-second your brain can't keep up. "Jesus Christ."
The point is, the place is beautiful, even if it feels like a hangover bearing down on you in slow motion. Undiscovered paths from long-lost peoples, whole chunks of a world just hanging there in an endless sky. He's going to be coming back here every chance he gets.
In the meanwhile, though, there's a flickering light ahead. He nods toward it. "Got any idea what that is?"
[ around kirkwall. ]
He's spent enough time at the Gallows since he was quarantined, thanks. At this point, Sam's mostly liable to be found there to sleep and eat.
The taverns get more than a little of his time (and more than a little of his coin, as a result). Gotta figure out which ones are worth hanging around at, which aren't. It's not hard to find him at a table or up at the bar, especially if there's a woman there to chat up. (Maybe you're the woman. Who knows.)
Same with the marketplace, where he's chatting with merchants, examining the merchandise, wandering around without a care in the world. And when he haggles, it's with the attitude of someone who mastered the skill long ago, doing it for the love of it. "You sure you can't go any lower? 'Cause I don't mind walking away. See? Here I go."
You might be asking yourself: Hightown? Lowtown? The docks? The alienage? Sam Drake's like a cat, though--he goes where he wants. Even, at least once, Darktown, if only out of curiosity. At one point, he grabs a skinny wrist trying to lift some cash from his jeans pocket. "I wouldn't do that, pal."
wildcard.
[ Want to hit me with something unexpected? Go for it. Want a bespoke starter? Grab me on plurk or discord. ]
around Kirkwall
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
taverns.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
also taverns.
(no subject)
(no subject)
how many pickpockets can Sam Drake find this month: 2, apparently
beth greene.
limit 1
Turns out everyone has to go here eventually. To map it, to learn more about it--and in Beth's case, to get familiar with what it even is. And it sounds cool, magic and dreams all mixed into one. Go in with a partner, follow the paths.
But her first steps go from fascinated to seasick when she crosses the threshold of the mirror (eluvian, it's called an eluvian), her head swimming. Everything feels slightly off, a little groan escaping her as she tries to find her balance. "Um--is it supposed to--be like this?"
Almost everyone's been in Riftwatch longer than her. She's figuring her partner'll know.
[ around the gallows. ]
The Gallows is pretty nice, by Beth's standards--like the prison she used to live in, but with baths and cooks and solid doors. And after the firefights and sieges and diplomatic missions and everything else from the last month, she's pretty content to hang out there, for the most part.
Her bedroom is frequently closed up and locked tight, but sometimes she leaves the door open. Inside, it's a cozy room, with broadsides and illustrations pasted up on the walls and a small collection of figurines standing on a shelf. She's fussing with her first purchase of any consequence, a round-bellied lute not unlike the one she'd tried out in Bastien's office. Anyone on the fourth floor of the old Templar Tower is probably going to hear it being played like it's actually an acoustic guitar, strummed and plucked at all hours of the day (and some of the night).
More and more, she comes to the training yard, where she doesn't know a lot what she's doing, but she's trying. People have given her things to try, exercises to make her faster with a knife, and there's plenty of practice dummies to use them on.
Sometimes she ends up in a chapel or prayer garden, sitting quietly and staring at...well, not much. Very healthy, very normal. The chapel's a perfect place to hide during a thunderstorm, especially.
And sometimes she's at the tennis court. "You wanna play? You'll...have to tell me what the rules are here."
[ wildcard. ]
[ Want to hit me with something unexpected? Go for it. Want a bespoke starter? Grab me on plurk or discord. ]
Chapel
(no subject)
(no subject)
laura kint.
limit 1
Sometimes--starting around dusk, occasionally continuing right on til dawn--there's a shadow that lurks in corners and crouches on rooftops. It moves through the darkness in silence and waits for danger. And when danger arises, it leaps out and punches.
She keeps her hood up despite the heat, stays out of view, does everything she can to prevent would-be criminals from seeing who's prevented them from whatever they've attempted: theft, assault, something yet worse. But tonight, she's attacked a mugger who attacked right back, and in the fray, her cowl's knocked back from her face. (In return, she knocks him unconscious.)
It wouldn't be a problem--the mugger's victim has already run--if not for the fact that there's another shadow. Someone at the other end of the alleyway has stopped, is looking at her and the thief at her feet. She freezes, her pale face lit by the moons above, hands formed into loose fists as though to anticipate a fight.
[ around. ]
Laura can always be counted upon in a few places. The marketplaces in Kirkwall are a particular favourite, whether she's buying something or not. Her favourite stalls sell spices, jewelry, and little trinkets that exist for reasons beyond usefulness. Find her there, and she might ask your opinion of something, or simply say hello.
The dining hall in the Gallows is a reliable location as well, where she eats a surprising amount and attacks her food with a fork and one of the ghostly claws in her hands. If you haven't seen a girl with blades in her fists before, it might be a bit of a surprise.
(Or later, when the dining's over - and generally very carefully not when Mrs. Fitcher holds her usual games - she might be sat at a table with a deck of cards. Sometimes, there's a cat beside her, licking its paws. "Do you play?")
Her favourite place in the Gallows, though, is the battlements, where she can watch the sea. Did she use the staircase to get up there or climb some walls? Don't worry about it. It's a good place to be, a better place to consider talking.
wildcard.
[ Want to hit me with something unexpected? Go for it. Want a bespoke starter? Grab me on plurk or discord. ]
alleyway
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
battlements.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
alleyway