open.

[luaithre]

WHO: Everyone
WHAT: Late night evacuation drill
WHEN: Early Harvestmere, don't think about it too hard
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: See OOC note below.

Lashes of rain batter at unyielding fortress walls. It is dark, quiet, and peaceful save for all the rolling thunder summoned from over the sea. It is a good evening to be warm in bed.

Until it isn't a couple of those things.

Wherever you are sleeping (or working) late at night in the Gallows, you will hear it: an incessant and noisy bell ringing, handheld, clanging and clanging loud and obnoxious from the top of each tower and downwards, lingering in the key residential halls until there is sign of people emerging from their rooms. Gwenaëlle has been assigned to harass the Central Tower, while Abby takes the Mage Tower and Matthias is assigned the Templar Tower. Even if you happen not to be in either of these places, the muffled cacophony of bells is liable to still reach you.

It may take a second to realise what's happening, and how real this emergency is, but in the past week, all will have received some suspiciously timed updates as to evacuation procedures, including the protocols surrounding what to do when the instruction is to shelter in place (because they do, after all, live in a fortress).

The first step is moving without hesitation when the warning bells ring out loud. The next is to descend the towers, down dim stairwells lit by lyrium glow, in as orderly a fashion as possible. From there, it's a matter off finding the correct subterranean chamber (tonight, indicated with lamplight) and waiting it out.

At least, this route does not take them outside.

In the basement chamber will be Edgard and Marcus, the former equipped with a medieval clipboard and the latter marking the time in his head as people enter, while semi-supervising the other man's work and guarding the exit. The space is large enough to comfortably fit the whole company, although it is also cold, dripping, and musty. There are places to sit, chairs and tables both, and a few blankets if you find yourself underdressed.

And if you attempt to leave too early, you'll be bid to wait it out a little longer to accommodate and cause no disruption or confusion to late comers.

To encourage this, there are a few bottles of wine set aside along with some lukewarm tea. Stay a while.

[ ooc ; feel free to top level at any part of this interaction! I will handwave the cooperation of anyone who doesn't tag in or assume they are out of the Gallows, so don't feel like you have to, but there is also a comment below for anyone who deliberately wants to be on the naughty list of no-shows. ]

Comments

[hassaran]

Maybe she'd be easier to follow if she hadn't just been woken up in the middle of the night by an unholy racket he arranged. She is not at her best, in any sense. And that Marcus is at least momentarily unsettled is some satisfaction, though it's carefully kept out of her expression.

Instead, the angles of Yseult's face soften marginally, as if subsiding in the face of his earnest assurances, almost apologetic. "I've no objection to that. You've done a thorough job here, and the system you've devised seems effective and well-organized. And now you know how quickly we can be mustered."

[luaithre]

Maybe subconsciously, there's a slight relenting on Marcus' side too—an easing in defensiveness, and more a transparency than softening, however, a few subtle microexpressions that convey he thinks she is flattering him to a purpose and, regretfully, it's working.

He looks towards the other leaders, where Flint and Silver have recently arrived and claimed a corner, where Stark is propped up against Smythe and both apparently sleeping, and the Ambassador—doing whatever, but present, certainly. Back to her.

"I do," he relents. "And if you think it appropriate, perhaps a warning can be tried in the next one."

That if is doing a lot of work, as is the possibility of trying a warning. It'll be obvious enough if there are containment issues, and easily rectified in due course by going back to surprise dogs.

[hassaran]

Yseult is going to take this as a win, despite whatever caveats might be impliedly included. Marcus's agreement is rewarded with a brief, slender smile, crooked with tiredness and a wry note that seems to acknowledge the minor difficulty they made of getting to this point.

"That will be appreciated." It sounds like an end to that conversation, and moreso when, after a brief pause to prevent whiplash, she pivots back to employer discussing a work matter: "Have your assistants reported trouble with anyone?"

[luaithre]

That wryness is not very obviously reflected back at her, but some of that defensive stiffness continues to relax, bringing his tea up to drink from in lieu of acknowledging her appreciation in so many words. Her transition offers a less awkward space to land, flicking a glance aside towards where Edgard is taking his notes.

"No protests or complaints, so far," Marcus says. "Some confusion, though, about where to go and what to do, despite the latest communications, but at least this serves as an education."

The conversation of whether the division heads ought to be warned indeed closed. So long as everyone agrees that this exercise is both important and necessary and he did a good job.

[hassaran]

No protests or complaints is, frankly, incredible in the literal sense. Yseult lifts a brow, and nods perhaps a little slowly, a bit incredulous but also impressed and attempting to let the latter win out. It does on her face, at least.

"This will be a memorable lesson," she agrees. "If there are particular points of confusion, they could be revisited in division meetings as well." She assumes there will of course be a report of some kind produced from all this. There ought to be, remarkably successful and well-behaved for a Riftwatch endeavor as it is.

[luaithre]

The flicker towards impressed in Yseult's expression does have Marcus consider the protests and complaints he'd received from, say, herself, and also the two members of Riftwatch he'd sought to offer accommodations to prior to this evening, but then decides none of those fall within her parameters.

His so far is helping guard against the potential for future sins. People will probably want to leave before the thing is done, at that.

"Aye," Marcus agrees, instead. "Preferably."

And not, say, via announcement on the crystal network. Another warm body ambles through the door, which triggers Marcus to glance to Edgard to see that he's noting it down, then back to Yseult. "If nothing else, so long as the Forces division and the griffon riders have a good grasp on what needs to happen in the event of an attack, we can allow for some incompetence."