MOD PLOT ↠ HOME FOR RIFTMAS

[faderifting]

WHO: Everyone (more or less)
WHAT: Rifter Show & Tell & Steal.
WHEN: Early Wintermarch 9:49 (forward-dated!)
WHERE: The Crossroads and BEYOND.
NOTES: OOC post. Please use appropriate content warnings in your subject lines.

Since Corypheus began opening the Gates, Riftwatch has been noticing pockets of instability in the Crossroads—crumbling platforms, paths newly blocked by rubble or broken bridges, sections where gravity has been shifted and altered in ways unusual even for the Crossroads, with new intrusions of green-tinged rock outcroppings or corners of temple walls. The barriers between the Crossroads, the Fade, and the world are thinning. It's a problem.

But more recently, Riftwatch has been made aware of an ancient artifact known (now; one hopes this isn't its original title) as the Sealing Stone, now in pieces scattered throughout the Crossroads, and the approximate locations of those pieces. If brought together and activated, the Stone may stabilize the barrier between the Crossroads and the other realms and may provide a model Riftwatch could use to reinforce the Veil elsewhere.

So Riftwatch ventures into the Crossroads to retrieve the pieces of the Stone. It's an intensive effort undertaken by large teams, due to the many now-familiar hazards of the Crossroads, the potential for encountering the Venatori that also use the eluvian network, and the need to cover ground as quickly as possible in hopes of finding the artifacts before the Venatori notice the increased Crossroads activity and come join the hunt.

It's not as simple as merely locating the pieces, however. Whenever a group of Riftwatchers get near enough to one of the artifacts, they're alerted first by the triggering of a sort of protection mechanism. In some cases—specifically, on teams without any rifters—spirits suddenly swarm from the metaphorical woodwork in numbers so great and with such hostility that retreat is the only viable option. The spirits chase the teams only as far as necessary to push them away from the artifact's location, then mass into a circling shoal, guarding the spot until they're left alone long enough to decide the risk has passed.

But for groups containing at least one rifter, something with the mechanism goes wrong. Or right, arguably. Rather than being overwhelmed by spirits, they instead find themselves abruptly engulfed by what appears to be a rift, opening suddenly and rapidly large enough to swallow entire masses of people before contracting again to lie in wait like a carnivorous plant for anyone else who comes too close. Those caught in its radius tumble out into what appears to be a new and unfamiliar world–for most. For one or more of the rifters in each group, it will be perfectly familiar.

The first group to encounter this effect will be one including Tony Stark and Stephen Strange, and will drop them and their compatriots straight into midtown traffic. Any groups attempting to travel to the same spot in the Crossroads to investigate the apparent vanishing—whether they have rifters with them or not—will find themselves drawn through the same "rift" almost as soon as they get within sight of the place, before anything can be discerned about their lost fellows. They will likewise emerge into Stark & Strange's United States.

Subsequent groups including other rifters will be seemingly drawn into their companions' worlds by the same effect. In each, Riftwatch will have to navigate local hazards and retrieve a distinctive lyrium-etched artifact, at which point the world will dissolve around them like a dream and they will find themselves back in the Crossroads where they began, in possession of a carved chunk of stone glowing with lyrium runes.

1 ↠ MCU Earth-199999

Alternate-universe Earth, New York and Los Angeles, 2012-2025, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange.

Earth-199999 is very much like contemporary Earth as we know it, featuring the same historic events, same nations, same conventions. For the average person, there is no difference, except that they know magic and aliens and gods and superpowers are all real and have been causing problems for a while now, with NYC as the hub for most of the shenanigans. MCU Earth has also made leaps and bounds in all science fields as compared to real Earth, although these leaps and bounds are not widely accessible, primarily exclusive to private organisations like Stark Industries, mad scientists, and the likes of SHIELD, but can range from interactive three-dimensional holograms through to biotechnology that turns people into supersoldiers.

It's commonplace to see or hear about criminals causing havoc in the streets with superpowers or gadgets, and crime-fighting vigilantes trying to stop them. The Avengers, as the world's first superheroes, became widely-known commercialised celebrities in-universe with merchandise, documentaries, book deals, and memorial murals to the deceased Iron Man.

Special Abilities: Everyone is nerfed to regular human, unless you want a sudden onset of mutant powers. 1 individual themed ability per character; like pyrokinesis, superspeed, superstrength, etc.

Arrival: One main rift opens in the middle of New York City, ejecting our rifters into midtown traffic… except thanks to Strange’s own multiversal mishaps, people in this world will seem astonishingly accustomed to this sight! Bystanders will be startled, but then the rifters will likely be dogged by strangers snapping photos and videos and tweeting about their arrival.

The Fade-constructed timeline will be a little off: the old Avengers tower and its penthouse is still standing and still accessible to Tony, and Strange will also offer up the Sanctum as a sanctuary, and these will be the main mission hubs while the team gets their bearings and tries to locate the artifact. In the meantime: relax, take in the sights, maybe check out a Broadway show, wrangle your new superpowers.

A secondary rift also opens up on Hollywood Boulevard, in case people want to do some helplessly stranded on Earth RP. Tony can very easily find out this has happened and go collect them, with various degrees of efficiency according to what people want out of that OOCly. As this universe will be available to explore for a few IC weeks, people can assume some degree of Stark-provided financial freedom for basics (i.e. clothes and food, burner phones, etc), and they can stay in the Avengers tower and/or the Sanctum.

2 ↠ Shifterverse

Original alternate-universe Earth, Midwest US, 2022, Jude Adjei.

Real-world 2022, but what if Shifters?

Special Abilities: All superpowers are unfortunately nerfed. However, everyone's a Shifter now. Your choice of animal. Enjoy.

Arrival: Everyone will arrive in Yellowstone National Park, which is wholly staffed and operated by Jude's pack, but... not in an area where tourists are routinely and happily welcomed. Welcome to the deep woods and canyons and plains, where Jude's pack has built their den for some several hundred people. Characters will immediately be found by scouts in fur and feathers, who will be guarded and curious, but not hostile. The wolves and ravens will greet the interlopers as equals, and if they aren't offered any violence, they'll be treated as guests. Hundreds of pack members live in a mixture of hand-built cabin homes and meeting places, portable tiny houses and various shared spaces. There is wifi, a greenhouse, lots of tasty food and warm clothing to wear. If they stay several days and prove themselves trustworthy, they might even start to see children out and about, and there's nothing cuter than a toddler who can become a wolf pup at will. (Mind the raven toddlers and the bear cubs. They're less cute.)

3 ↠ Tassia

D&D Original World, Loxley & Richard Dickerson

Tassia is an original Dungeons&Dragons inspired world, a single continent divided into four nations that is otherwise completely isolated from any other possible world beyond it. These nations are Lloryndell, Sylvica, Ifrin, and Promias, and at its centre lies the Cruxal, a university-city of diverse cultural influence.

While Tassia resembles Thedas in its day-to-day technology levels, including its anachronisms, it is more heavily laden with fantastical elements. Along with humans, elves, and dwarves, there are goblins, dragonborn, tritons, tieflings, sentient robots, bird people, centaurs, and more (https://www.dndbeyond.com/races) (but no qunari). There are many different kinds of magic users who wield their powers openly. There are shops full of magic items, potions, and spell scrolls. There are monsters of countless kinds that lurk just about everywhere. Most cultures in the material plane are polytheistic and worship themed gods from the default D&D (Faerun) Pantheon. Some smaller cults and individuals worship ancient fey, fiendish, and eldritch beings who dwell on the outskirts of their respective planes and may provide power to the exceptionally loyal -- for a price.

Special Abilities: You can choose to be a normal depowered person, but you are equally encouraged to take on magical abilities, whether you're a mage or not. In brief, you can be a wizard, whose magic comes from spellbooks and knowledge, a sorcerer, who have innate magical abilities, a bard, who draws their magic from music, words, and performance, a warlock, who has made a pact with a powerful entity in exchange of magical ability, a druid, who draws their magic from nature, and a cleric, whose divine abilities are gifted to them by a deity. (Other classes have magic too, but it might be easier to pick one of these major ones if you are unfamiliar!)

Rather than overthinking it, we recommend you pick whatever sounds fun to flavour your magic with, and then browse magical spells using classes as a filter. (Eighth and ninth level are off limits, and it may be easier to limit yourself further due to how many spells there are.) Given the temporariness of these powers, don't worry too much about how many spells you get or how frequently you can do them, but know that higher level spells (anything above fifth) can only be cast one or twice a day.

Your character may be Tassia-ised, in terms of their race, but in a limited capacity. All humans will stay human, but elves may adopt D&D traits like seeing in the dark.

Arrival: Rifts will open in the streets of the Cruxal. People will be startled by the sudden appearance of rifters and stand offish, but otherwise: they've seen it all before! No one will be calling the guard on you, unless you decide to start something, so please don't. Or enjoy jail.

The Cruxal is a labyrinthian melting pot built up in concentric rings around a massive central university and library. Goblins scarper among humans, elves, and dwarves in the street. There are tusked half orcs and horned, scale-clad dragonborn mixed in among more familiar silhouettes. This is a university town, but while a large portion of the population are students, academics, and staff, it is also self-sustaining, with taverns, shops, temples, brothels, residences, and marketways.

The university itself is guarded and degrees of entry closely regulated due to the school’s extensive collection of dangerous artifacts -- one of which just so happens to have gone missing last night. News of the theft has been suppressed, but every temple, tavern, and brothel on the outskirts of town is abuzz with the rumor. The entire corridor, they say, was scorched black.

Loxley and Richard won't be too concerned about herding everyone but can provide some coin as needed for inn rooms and food. They appear to have a near bottomless stash, at least as far as living costs go.

4 ↠ Sulleciel

Original fantasy world, Petrana de Cedoux.

What if magic was real and holy emperors still kissed the ring in Rome, until someone beheaded the fucking pope? Welcome to Sulleciel, and specifically to Lamor City, capitol of Lamorre and the seat of the Lamorran empire, ruled over by Empereur Marius IX and his consort, Empress Petrana Solene. A nation and empire in the throes, still, of great upheaval — think Versailles or Orlais, but lurching ungainly out of its dark ages into a theoretically more enlightened time, control of which is being actively fought in the halls of power and at grassroots levels of social influence. Power vacuums abound, thanks to the fall of the church and the rise of a conqueror who is less interested in ruling than he was conquering; women are still the often-illiterate property of their fathers and husbands, but now there are more alternatives to family and marital homes, and dedicated studies of witchcraft are being encouraged, with pilot programs across the empire primarily in those early sanctuary cities, figuring out how this is all going to work. Known for her efforts to lean on the scales in the people's favour Petrana herself is, in this era, rumored to be imprisoned; graffiti of her crowned likeness can be found in some places in the city, with the epithet ""la reine du malheur"".

Special Abilities: In Sulleciel, magic is a skill that may be pursued like any other — and there are those of more or less talent, as if someone were to attempt the violin, or swordplay. It is practised primarily through incantations and foci, with more elaborate spellwork for more ambitious results sometimes requiring particular items or a full coven to achieve. As magic is limited in Sulleciel only by the will, imagination and stamina of those practising it, no one coming here will be subject to any nerfs; all mages and otherwise magical or powered individuals will be able to use their powers as they're used to using them. In addition to this, anyone who is as magical as a chair-leg ordinarily can feel free to have a go at Sulleciel's magic — it's up to you if they have a knack for it or not. Simple spells like casting a light or telekinesis of small objects can be mastered by toddlers; a powerful enough witch or coven might be able to summon a thunderstorm and alter weather patterns, but ""can"" and ""should"" are different and it's generally advised that you try not to do a climate change.
"
Arrival: The rift will open into a spacious, luxuriously-appointed tower on the grounds of the imperial palace but not visibly connected to it above-ground. It was at one point the sole domain of the previous arciduc's personal astronomers, but is now the primary residence and working space of the Queen's Coven. The Queen's Coven is a particular group of women, so named for having been among the first witches to come beneath the new regime's protection in the first city-state to bend the knee where Petrana was first installed as Queen Regent; they are private, secretive, and increasingly cut off from the power-struggles of the imperial court, having been actively distanced from the Empress herself by a variety of other players in the game. Both relatively prepared for sudden magical happenings and inclined to keep shit in the tower on lock, they will be prepared to pass you all off as "foreign witches, seeking our enlightenment" and see both you and the sudden access to Petrana as potentially useful in their maneuverings. Which will make moving around easier, but will probably be an active hindrance to getting where and what you need. An underground tunnel connects the tower directly to the palace, though there are also pleasant, covered pathways to walk across the palace grounds; guards at the main, above-ground entrance to the tower will inquire about movements to and from, and will be skeptical but limit their interference initially ... as long as they don't see Petrana.

5 ↠ Kalvad

Original fantasy world, Wysteria Poppell.

Kalvad—specifically the city of Somerset, the magic capitol of the civilized world—is a mashup of Regency Era and Industrial-Revolution-But-Magic! Nebulously England (with the serial numbers aggressively filed off). When in doubt, default to Jane Austen vibes. But if it seems fun to do some weird magic-powered technological advancements, then go nuts.

Kalvad is an imperial island nation ostensibly ruled by three kings, though they're largely figureheads overseeing an upper and lower parliament. The country has made itself rich and powerful by doing a whole lot of war and colonization. As historically one of the most magically powerful regions in the world, magicians have long been a vital tool in the empire's efforts to do both those things.

Unfortunately for Kalvad, the strength of magic in the world has waned considerably in the last 40 years. Where once Talent was rare but reasonably powerful, magic users are both becoming more commonplace and considerably weaker. Even older magicians and hedge-witches who once might have manufactured considerable arcane feats have seen some diminishing of their powers. A popular, but unproven, theory in academic circles is that those with Talent all draw from the same "well" of magic. As more people are born with the ability to tap into that resource, the less there is to go around. Resentment for those with weaker Talents among older generations of magic users is A Thing.

That said, increased availability of minor magics has kick-started a 'minor magic' powered industrial revolution. Parlor witches who perform small arcane conveniences are growing in number; minor charms and enchantments have become more readily available to lower classes. Meanwhile, the non-magical population is slowly being shunted out of their respective cottage industry jobs and into factories powered by great enchanted machines. The empire as the world knows it is clearly teetering on the brink of major social and political upheaval, both at home and abroad. The consequences of all this change just haven't quite played themselves out yet, though you can bet there are people rushing around in an attempt to cover their asses before they do.

Special Abilities Characters will be nerfed of any abilities they had in Thedas, but can be Talented in Kalvad terms or not. Any Talented character under 40 is likely to be able to produce only minor magics (think lighting fires in fireplaces, being able to heal minor injuries, and temporarily being able to enchant objects to do one specific thing). Anyone over forty can be a little flashier (think appearance altering glamors, temporary invisibility, transfiguration and significant healing). General magic flavor is: Brothers Grimm fairy tales and Arthurian legends, except that someone somewhere made all that weirdly pliable magic adhere to a strict ruleset. Easy, thoughtless channeling of magic is a secret lost long before the arcane powers in the world began to diminish. Now, all magic must be carefully and deliberately designed and constructed. The magicians most accomplished by Kalvadan standards are methodical and patient. Think clockmakers and mathematicians, not wizards on the side of a van.

Arrival: Members of Riftwatch will arrive through a rift and find themselves on the wooded outskirts of a sprawling city. Luckily, no one will witness their initial arrival. Even more convenient: once they've gotten their bearings and made their way into the city, they'll discover they aren't the only weird strangers in town (although they may want to strongly consider indulging in petty theft to make themselves stick out less—particularly as it comes time to infiltrate places). It seems that a sprawling months-long academic conference turned party turned cover for political intrigue and cold warfare has descended upon Somerset.

In the aftermath of what everyone is claiming to be a major military victory somewhere, delegations from a number of implicated countries have converged on the city at the invitation of the Kalvadan Crowns in order to share and demonstrate their various technical and arcane achievements. The World's Fair-like atmosphere has drawn a number of non-Talented tourists, scheming politicians, and cutthroat spies along with the legitimately academically and/or magically inclined.

While Somerset is something of a city of wonders by the world's estimation, it's still first and foremost a dirty and crowded industrial hub in a world that has yet to bother with paving all its major roads. The conference has quadrupled that effect, transforming it into a riot of sights, sound, and (often to its detriment) smells. At this point, finding a room and board in the city has become less a question of where you want to stay and more one of how many other people you're willing to timeshare a bed with.

Luckily, it doesn't seem like Riftwatch will be sticking around long. Some snooping around the of pamphleting/gossip will reveal that the artifact they're after is likely to be found in the grand exhibition hall, and that there will be an opportunity to get their hands on it that evening.

6 ↠ Abeir-Toril

D&D Forgotten Realms, Astarion

The D&D continent of Faerûn is loosely based on Eurasia—if it ran entirely on magic, was roughly stuck somewhere in the 14th century forever, and was filled to the brim with elves, dragons, gnolls, faeries, gods, demi-gods, and just about any myth (or mythological creature) you’ve ever encountered in your life. For the purpose of simplicity, everyone from Riftwatch is going to get plunked down in the titular Baldur’s Gate: the city is massive, it’s known as the jewel of Faerûn, and its cultures, districts, trades and pastimes reflect that remarkable splendor. Still, think of it like Kirkwall in that there are some pretty damn rigid socioeconomic divides separating the city via districts. QUICK GUIDE.

The Upper City is the fancy part of town where nobles (known as Patriar) and their servants live, and it also houses the city’s government and key recreational buildings. There are no bars, pubs, taverns or drinking halls. Anything rowdy happens behind closed doors, and if you don't have an invitation, you'd better look for fun somewhere else. Magical enchantments and lanterns make it beyond stunning at night to stroll through. Lower City is more varied: you’ll find taverns, shops, tons of entertainment and ample trade, as well as pirates by the docks (and their ships), and the harbor waters are absolutely gorgeous for sailing on calm days. Doors are shut and locked during nighttime hours aside from taverns, inns or gambling parlors. Visibility is also lower at night when harbor fog rolls in, particularly where poorer residents can't afford oil, tallow or magic every night. The Undercity stretches deep (and hidden) beneath both the Upper and Lower Cities: it begins at its most shallow within the city as sewers and along seawall cliffs as open-mouthed caves. The deeper you go, the worse it gets: undead catacombs, cultists, temples, blood sport and bloody magic prevail alongside monsters too dangerous to clear out. Outer City sucks. There's almost next to no law or order, and is inherently dangerous to explore. Treat it like Lowtown for the most part, and you'll be pretty smack on (slavers and actual kind impoverished poor included).

CULTURE: Baldur’s Gate is primarily run by humans, and to a lesser extent, elves. Other races aren’t really considered a foothold here, but they’re more than welcome in the city and treated exceptionally well with a few exceptions here and there (ogres, trolls, more ferally inclined goblins, etc). This is not at all like Thedas: someone more familiar with discrimination against non-humans, certain pairings and particularly mages wouldn't find it here. Most of the time if you dress nicely and carry yourself well, you’ll be well respected. Or robbed. Or both!

Special Abilities: Characters will be adjusted to fit D&D, and powers are optional for all. For D&D’s magic/power/race everything, please take a look at some basic classes.

Arrival: Characters will arrive via rifts torn into the Outer City, just along its riverfront sprawl. They won’t be too far from the city gates, but witnesses to the scene will be inclined to gossip and gawk, assuming everything from a freak magical incident to believing the new arrivals are wealthy travelers from somewhere far and exotic, who simply missed their mark in teleporting to the Upper City for sightseeing. Anyone wearing Thedosian clothes will be fine to go without changing— wearing something more modern or say, nothing at all for some reason, will definitely require staging some kind of Terminator II style clothing (theft) acquisition in order to fit in.

Ideally, the team will at least want to make their way into Lowtown in order to begin snooping around, but it’s a big damn city to say the least, and information is expensive. Astarion will help within reason, but being a vampire means that he can only afford to fund so much on his own.

Might be a good idea to do some fetch quests or live your best Adventuring Party life, because you’re all going to likely be here for a (time distorted) relative while.

7 ↠ Orphan Black

Alternate-Universe Earth, 2014; Toronto, Canada; Cosima Neihaus.

Real-world mid-2010s, but secret unethical biology/biotech experiments including viable human cloning in the mid 1980s. Carrying out such technologically advanced work is a combination of international organizations including a private research company, at least one paramilitary organization and a shadowy organization that oversees both. (Orphan Black also features minor differences from our world typical of its genre, such as plot-convenient hacking and variably competent law enforcement, but the cloning project and related scientific offshoots are the most salient differences.) Relevant to this plot in particular, the Dyad Institute is a private organization, considered ""fringe"" by the mainstream scientific community, devoted to research related to human evolution and biotechnology. Some of its many employees had connections to the ""neolutionism"" community, the members of which believed human evolution should be actively shaped by scientific and technological intervention. The organization was responsible for the project that created Cosima and her sisters roughly 30 years before in-world present day. Also at the moment they're jumping to, Cosima works there, it's complicated. (If anyone is familiar with the canon, we're jumping in circa season two.)
A tiny pinboard.

Special Abilities: None, you're all just unpowered humans. Sorry/you're welcome.

Arrival: The group arrives at what turns out to be a nondenominational winter party for a local school; there are some mild shenanigans as Cosima clocks that it's a school attended by children she knows, and more pressingly, partially overseen by their mother, who has Cosima's face. Cosima press gangs one or more other people into helping her hide her own face while negotiating with Alison to borrow her minivan. She shuttles the group to Alison's large suburban Toronto home, which becomes the FR group's base of operation. (It is perhaps telling that while Alison finds this frustrating, she and her husband Donnie do sort of roll with it also.) If desired/depending on how big the group is, Cosima could also stow some Riftwatchers with Felix, the foster brother of one of her other clones, who has a big artsy loft downtown. She is not against taking anyone to her place, but she's a grad student; it's not huge. Everyone who knows how to use a phone or can be trusted to figure it out with a tutorial gets a burner phone for convenience. (Perhaps additionally telling how quickly Alison gets everyone a burner phone. She also decorates the protective cases for them. No, it's not optional.)

8 ↠ The Last of Us

Post-Apocalyptic Earth, Spring 2038, Seattle, Abby Lasterson & Ellie Williams.

This world was ours until 2013, when a worldwide pandemic broke out overnight. A fungus (cordyceps) that had originally infected mainly insects adapted to infect human beings. Anyone bitten by an infected person or who has breathed in a significant or concentrated amount of fungal spores becomes infected themselves. Over a maximum of two days, they utterly lose their humanity and deteriorate into violent monsters, eventually sprouting spores and fungal plates. There is no known cure, and the only human being ever known to be immune is Ellie Williams. 25 or so years later, humanity has crumbled into various factions in a struggle to survive. First came the Federal (FEDRA) response, resulting in Quarantine Zones and martial law. Life in the zones is highly regulated, with work assignments and rations that often aren't enough to go around. Many citizens are forced to turn to crime just to make ends meet. Orphaned children become wards of the state and are trained to become FEDRA soldiers by the time they're sixteen.

Various civilian groups rose up to rebel against FEDRA, forming factions such as the Fireflies (rebels who recruited scientists in an effort to find a cure), and the Washington Liberation Front (a militia-minded organization who overthrew FEDRA in Seattle). There are other smaller groups such as the religious zealots called the Seraphites, or the violent slavers known as the Rattlers.

Few and far between are independent human settlements like Jackson of Wyoming, where small communities have managed to gain self-sufficiency and safety with tireless group effort and highly vigilant defenders. They bolster their numbers by welcoming peaceful outsiders and engaging in trade with travelers.

Living outside of these groups, people are largely on their own, vulnerable to packs of hunters, bandits and even cannibals that prey on anyone brave enough to risk travel.

The infected are an ever-present threat everywhere, and the world is a ruin quickly being reclaimed by nature. (cw: body horror in the link) See board for world aesthetic and depictions of the Infected.

Special Abilities: Everyone is a normal human here. No supernatural powers, no magic, no non-humans.

Arrival: Welcome one of Ellie and Abby's least favorite places: Seattle. The Space Needle is visible in the distance, so despite the advanced state of decay, it's actually recognizable. Except it's been bombed, and rotting, and nature's reclaimed it for the last quarter-century. This adventure won't be for the faint of heart; there are no home bases and no safe space to be had. All clothing, supplies, weaponry and food are things you'll need to find yourself. Everyone can assume they'll get a quick lesson in gun safety and a rundown on various types of infected. Multiple rifts will open, so feel free to appear anywhere in the city (even apart from others) but expect to find no native allies. The city of Seattle is embroiled in civil war between the Seraphites (a religious cult who rejects anything "old world" and scars their faces, called "Scars") and the Washington Liberation Front (a ruthless mercenary coalition, called "Wolves") and both sides will assume you're with the other group and attack on sight. Better pick up a brick.

Comments

[portalling]

“I love to see an aspirational bucket list.” He’d heard about the others’ west coast adventures; thankfully hadn’t been responsible for bailing them out, at least, because he didn’t have Tony’s material resources any longer, and was more likely to simply show up and portal them out of prison rather than go through official channels. Wong had a tendency towards jailbreaks and Strange was no better.

Tipping the glass beneath his hands, he says, “And yes. I moved the portal so it’s not just hanging portentously in Stark’s living room — Jarvis got annoyed, I don’t think he likes me — but anyway, it’s in one of the storage closets, so it’s easy enough to get back and forth between the tower and the Sanctum. In case you wanted the grand tour after this. You could even tick that off the list: spend a night in a haunted house. It spawns a new bedroom whenever a new guest needs one.”

Is he inordinately proud of the Sanctum, pleased even with its piques and dangers and pitfalls? Yes. It shines through in his voice; a fondness almost as if he’s speaking of a person.

[degenere]

Of course I do. [What a strange remark. Val's nose wrinkles.] It comes of having very much to say.

[And all of it very important, which of course goes entirely without saying. They are going up the stairs. Val now looks back over his shoulder (and, by extension, Bastien's, since he is a little ahead of him upon the stairs), to where the hatchet-faced old woman's shadow can still be seen, there at the bottom of the stair, cast upon the wall in judgement and disagreeability.]

What 'young girl'?

[Miss Poppell may have some advice. Val de Foncé is having his own thoughts now.]

[heirring]

[Wysteria's charge up the stairs abruptly falters just short of the next landing. Hopefully Bastien isn't following too closely lest she clip him with a whirling elbow.]

She was referring to me, obviously. I am quite young. And generally respectable.

[Oh but Bastien had asked something; what had it been? She mentally gropes back for it while resuming the climb.]

Advice? No. There is no advice. It's all hopeless. You will simply have to tolerate the abuse. —Valentine, under no circumstances are you to engage the Maejyr in any sort of conversation outside of whatever pleasantries you can manage. You must swear to me. He will see through you both directly otherwise.

[(They are going up the next creaking and distinctly shabby but rigidly scrubbed flight of stairs as well. Perhaps in defiance of the street on which the house is located, the iron nail of a woman certainly keeps everything scraped very clean.)]

[laruetheday]

"Maybe," she mutters, because what is Abby, psychic? On a rock. Jeez.

Abby's got her wrist, and Clarisse doesn't exactly mind, but she is a little thrown by the way Abby's questioning her. She doesn't sound mad, but like she's... worried, or something. Clarisse didn't expect it.

"Nothing's going on." Which is more or less true. "I went—" Ughhhh, this is gonna sound so stupid. "I went to Long Island today to look around at the spot where my camp's supposed to be. I mean. Would be, if this was the right universe, which it's not. Anyway, I got pissed off and it was... stupid." The last word's almost a sigh.

[laruetheday]

Huh.

Clarisse is familiar with that kind of thing, enough for it to make her raise an eyebrow. The whole "yeah, we won't ever talk about anything that matters, but here's a weapon you can use" is a special kind of hurt, because it seems like it should be enough. It never is.

"Yeah, that's pretty much true." She turns to look at Ellie, finally. "The good thing about me is that I never sink." She means it to be lighthearted, even gives Ellie a tiny smile, but it falls a little flat. She's drained.

[laruetheday]

"Oh. Okay."

Clarisse doesn't think it makes Abby sound like a bitch. The explanation was simple, but it makes sense. Not everybody's going to be all gung ho about that shit. Even Clarisse's tendencies have waned a little bit—she left camp to go to college, after all, before she ended up in Thedas.

She steps up onto the overgrown sidewalk and nudges a rusty can with her boot. "Where'd you go after that?"

[armd]

Oh.

Abby immediately reconsiders saying really, in a very exasperated voice, which is what she was about to do as she considers the state of Clarisse's hand. Her knuckles are all scraped up.

... She really did lose her temper and punch a rock. Abby sighs.

"That's not stupid." If they were in Seattle, she- well. Actually, no, she would not have gone looking for the stadium. Abby would go in the opposite fucking direction, but she understands why Clarisse made her way to Long Island, hoping to see something familiar. "But leaving these as they are is pretty stupid. Looks like they need splints."

[armd]

Abby holds out her arm then, signalling silence, and to wait. She's listening, but she can't hear anything suspect. It's actually pretty quiet around here. She's hoping that's because the place is properly abandoned and not because all the infected are on the inside of the houses, waiting for Abby and Clarisse to come join them.

She lowers her arm. They may proceed.

"Just- away." She's being cagey, she knows... a sigh, then, "My friend and I- oh, Lev." She knows Lev, "We were trying to get to Catalina island, it's off the coast of California. Heard there was a good, stable group of survivors out there, about two hundred strong.

The Fireflies," she adds, casually. It's like a test to see how much Ellie has told her.

[portalling]

“You wouldn’t mind a second career as a personal trainer?” Strange asks, shoving some of the greenery out of the way with his pole as they continue moving their way down the drizzly street, forcing their way through overgrown underbrush, the weeds and bushes run rampant between rusting abandoned cars.

“Because that would be great. If you were amenable. I used to have daily drills at Kamar-Taj; as you know by now, combat training was a standard part of sorcerer training.” They’d both been on the receiving end of it in New York, unfortunately.

“It just hadn’t quite occurred to me to lurk around the training yard on the lookout for a trainer, but if you’re offering…”

[portalling]

Ay, and there’s the rub. Strange makes a thoughtful noise, a tut against his teeth, as they start climbing one of those long stairwells (it’s too long; it twists and winds more than it ought to, the storeys in this building climbing taller than it looks from the outside, but that’s par for the course at the Sanctum).

“That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?” he says. “I’ve been pretty agnostic, since we can’t confirm or deny either way. Out of an abundance of caution, we’ve been proceeding with the assumption that they’re not real, but… it’s easy to forget, you know? There are intact books on the shelves that neither Tony nor myself have read before. I’ve now visited small towns on another continent that I hadn’t been to. Outer space seems accessible. Wong has told me about television episodes that I haven’t seen. I’ve been placed in a very convincing illusion before, but this is the best yet. It’s… If it is an illusion, then it’s staggeringly complete apart from the timeline discrepancies.”

A beat, then, “If it hadn’t been for those, I’m not sure if I’d have been suspicious at all. I can’t see the seams.”

[notathreat]

That... explains. A lot. A lot a lot. How hard Clarisse pushes herself, how much she expects. How there's not a lot of room for not handling shit.

Anybody would be constantly exhausted with the constant threat of death hanging over them, where heroism and legend is the standard, and only what's expected of her.

It takes a second for Ellie to decide to do it, but she decides on the particular brand of fuck it that comes part and parcel with being around Clarisse. It's because she misses her as much as anything. She reaches up to slide her good arm around Clarisse's shoulders, leans in to put her face into her hair. She smells warm, like Seattle rain and sweat and gunpowder, and the last dregs of shampoo.

"Yeah," she murmurs, where she's hidden her face because it's kinda sappy. "But proving it gets old."

[nonvenomous]

“Yes,” he furrows his brow, patently unconvinced. Here he is, appropriately stiff-collared and professorial. His clothes match remarkably well under the circumstances.

Somewhere in the city, a gangling scholar lies trussed, gagged, and all but naked under the blankets of a borrowed bed.

“Are you anticipating resistance?”

The hold he has on her serves the dual purpose of projecting the impression of private conversation to others and anchoring Wysteria hooklessly in place. Perhaps concerningly, given her desire to be anywhere else and the nearness of their supposed prize, there’s no sense of urgency to his asking.

[charmoffensive]

His hand relaxes around hers, letting it go where it will, his own coming to rest at her wrist as she touches his face. It's a familiar sort of cue, one he might respond to by leaning down to kiss her, but the thought only begins to settle up his spine before she speaks again.

A flicker, something amused, something—momentarily—guarded. If given a choice, Loxley is certain he'd have wanted Derrica to see how he'd looked prior to Thedas deciding otherwise, but all the same, how oddly confronting. There's nothing in her voice or the way she looks at him to make him feel uneasy, and so he does not.

"It is," he says. "Not half bad for a devil man, I'd say."

The downside, of course, is that they will go back. He'll return to his silver and tail-less form. Maybe he'll be able to tell, which she liked better.

[charmoffensive]

Loxley has taken up a more detailed slip of paper, and moves now to lean against the end of the board. A couple of markedly shabbier adventurers have wandered nearer, hardly a magic item on their person. They hover at a distance, muttering amongst themselves at the sight of these particular two taking up the space.

Paying them no mind, Loxley glances Mobius' way. "A different god, certainly," he says. "I mean, we have a great deal of them, for one thing. And as far as I understand it, they're a great deal more hands on than the Maker ever is.

"As you can see," he says, with a gesture up and down Mobius' glowing shape. "Bestowing magical power to those they deem worthy, for instance."

[laruetheday]

Clarisse waits while Abby listens for infected, but the street seems clear. They keep walking, heading toward the first house on the cul-de-sac.

"Oh, yeah, the freedom fighter terrorists?" Ellie has mentioned them. "The ones making a cure, right?

What a dumb name," she adds, chuckling. No offense, but it is. "They should call themselves something cooler." Like wolves??

[laruetheday]

Unlike last time, Clarisse doesn't stiffen or pull away. She seems to melt into Ellie's touch, relaxing by increments for the first time since they kissed hours ago.

Crazy, how Ellie always seems to be able to do that to her.

"Look who's talking," Clarisse mutters fondly. She sees you, girl.

She tucks an arm around Ellie's waist to pull her in close, mindful not to jostle Ellie's other arm.

[notathreat]

Ellie laughs into her ear, a ha-ha that's more like a sarcastic, warm little breath than anything, but she finishes it with a kiss, there on the curve of her earlobe.

It's impulse, but it feels right.

Clarisse's arm anchors her as the tension ebbs away, and Ellie closes her eyes. It's like the exhaustion is hitting her all at once, now that she's finally allowed herself to relax.

"Think you could sleep now?"

[laruetheday]

Ellie's slumped against her, relaxed for the first time in hours, and it feels good knowing she's calmer now after the day they've had.

"Um—"

That breathy laugh and kiss to her ear has Clarisse shivering with a pleasant tingle that shoots from the base of her skull all the way down her arms.

It seems distinctly not like the kind of thing you do with your friend who you're just hooking up with, but that's been the trend with a lot of things they've been doing lately. Like walking around New York holding hands, and going out to dinner, and kissing in abandoned gas stations.

"Prrrobably," she says, not particularly wanting to go back inside and curl up alone in her moth-eaten sleeping bag. But Ellie definitely needs the sleep, so that's more important. "You?"

[notathreat]

Ellie feels Clarisse shiver at the kiss, and has to physically stop herself from naturally following that, kissing her more. It's not that she doesn't want to. She wants to. That's- never a question around Clarisse.

But there's a whole camp of people who will already have plenty to gossip about, probably, and Ellie's not keen on putting either of them in that position.

And yeah. Their whole friendship with each other has always contained some element of the physical, and that includes comfort. But there's so much more than that, and it's stacking up fast.

Including this part.

So Ellie exhales, hesitating, still holding on. It wouldn't be the first time. It's not like Ellie kicked Clarisse out after Satinalia.

"Yeah. But it's kinda hard to want to sleep alone after this." And, because there's no point in just not coming out and saying it: "... wanna move our stuff together?"

[armd]

Out of sight ahead of Clarisse, Abby makes a face. The 'freedom fighter terrorists', huh. She's not wrong, it's just interesting to her.

She scoffs. "Yeah, I guess." Who even named the Fireflies anyway? She has no idea. "When you're lost in the darkness, look for the light," is the usual quip, and it comes readily to her as they approach the first house. The door is nailed shut, that... bodes well.

Abby frowns at it, and jerks her head to the side. "C'mon. Let's see if we can find a window."

[laruetheday]

Clarisse tips her head back, looking up at the sky. There's no light pollution here, so everything is super clear. It's beautiful.

"Everyone will see us tomorrow," she says. It's not that she doesn't want to, she really does, but she's worried that Ellie will feel weird about it the next day.

It's not like they've been hiding it... but. They've kind of been hiding it. Especially here, it feels like they've been sneaking around.

"I don't want to make things weird for you."

[notathreat]

Clarisse isn't exactly tense in Ellie's arms, but it's a different kind of stillness, one it fully takes Ellie a second to recognize.

Does Clarisse think Ellie wants to hide this? Hide her?

"I don't really give a fuck if anyone sees," Ellie says, the fingers of her good hand fisting in the back of Clarisse's shirt.

It's impulsive, sure- but it's also not a lie.

[tender]

With a last, apprehensive look at the map, Derrica follows in his wake. A cluster of bedraggled teens scatter further down the platform upon observing Flint's approach. A muffled echo of sound crackles from the speaker overhead, incomprehensible.

"Seven minutes," she observes, relaying information gleaned entirely from the narrow scroll of information on the small marquee overhead.

People are gathering alongside them. The rattle of a covered wire carriage lined with red velvet drawing up an arm's length away warrants a wary sideways glance from Derrica, but she stops short of edging a step closer to Flint. Instead, she fishes in her purse for a piece of notebook paper bearing a hasty scrawl. Opens it just to look again, reassure herself of their destination. A little delay to gather herself on the way to initiating conversation between them, while they're at somewhat loose ends.

"Commander," Derrica begins, turning towards him by degrees, just in time to be wholly drowned out by the blare of a saxophone and thud of a dram.

Inside the wire cart beside them, something rattles.

[propulsion]

Tony is happy enough to be spared some nightmare fodder, taking her at her word with his focus snapped back ahead of them.

After their visit to Cosima's Toronto, he's figured that some technological variation exists between otherwise baseline-identical earths, branching off out of their respective unique novums. The Infinity Stones, Neolutionism, a highly infectious brain-eating virus, all doing something to stop, stagnate, or advance. Tony can imagine several different ways that more than just the military could have done their part to resuscitate a dying world.

But they're here instead. No time travel or diverging realities, no space ships, no nanotechnology or super-geniuses or god-aliens. No magic, even. The garden's come back, and all it wants is fertiliser.

He absorbs the things she's says, the answers she gives, inclined to just kind of file it away and process it rather than strike up a dialogue. He lets that ominous at first hang between them for a few lingering seconds, rebar now resting against a shoulder, before he announces,

"My world's better."

[propulsion]

"Lot of stabbing and bludgeoning talk back there," Tony observes. "Do I have to turn this thing around, children?"

Across the gardens they go, Tony doing a decent impression of knowing where he's going by paying no mind to anyone else around him, maintaining some moderate control over his facial expression as he absorbs his surroundings. (It helps that he is more curious than, you know, wowed, and no one should be offended by that when he's seen the very edges of the galaxy and it mostly made him tired.)

They may have imperial war secrets back home, but cruising through the drive-thru to shake down some new ones out of this Matrix fake top hat world has strong appeal.

"Forget the knife, who am I playing, what's my motivation?"