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

[laruetheday]

The closet is dark, dusty, and crammed full of old shoes and moth-eaten clothes. There's a kind of animal smell in here, from mice camping out maybe. But there's also a small safe tucked into the back corner, which Clarisse delights in before flashing back to that conversation she had with Abby a while ago about how neither of them can pick locks.

She muffles a sneeze into her arm before heading back to the top of the stairs so she can talk to Abby without having to yell.

"I mean the guy has a safe in his closet, but that's all. You find anything down there?"

[laruetheday]

Clarisse shrugs. "A tiny bit. I'm saving it."

But Abby's remark has her wondering if it will even work, when the time comes for her to use it, since not everything that comes through the rift does.

"Your gun is seriously the only thing that you had with you?" She's not judging, just curious.

[tender]

Maybe they have time.

Low to the ground, pulling her body over cracked tile and scattered debris, Derrica's entire body is prickling with tension. Aware of the sound of these rotting creatures clicking and groaning and screeching over Marcus' diversion. Aware of a new sound and the danger is presents. Aware of Marcus' movements in her wake.

Aware when those movements cease; that dimension of sound going silent.

They can both slip beneath this barrier, easily enough. Exit as they had entered, maybe none the wiser. Hands on the grime-covered metal of the gate, Derrica twists around to look at him.

It is because she is so twisted that she sees it, that moment when a runner turns, sniffs the air. Draws in a deep, moaning gasp and shrieks at the two of them on the floor.

[katabasis]

A sidelong glance—ha ha—is punctuated by another pull from the bottle, and then they are on the move.

They lose sight of the woman almost immediately once they've passed down the four short steps that lead down into the audience pit. But she's a stationary target, and they've hunted trickier. That said, some tactical sensibility must be observed. To wit, the bottle is ditched on a passed table, much to the not unpleased bafflement of the two young men occupying it; the wrist attached to Flint's hand with the most rings on it comes to hook lazily on the pommel of the sword he hasn't seriously drawn in weeks. Most importantly, and perhaps least easily perceived, is something in the face and the sway of the shoulder. The most marginal adjustment in the length of his stride that when taken in combination with the jut of the sheathed sword sends the edge of his dark coat swinging. What is unconscious artifice and what is adopted intentionally is difficult to parse—the man who makes his way down across the floor is not unrelated to the one who was spat up out of the harbor and trudged up into Little Calimshan—, but the point of his intention has altered to such a degree that the angle from which he might be observed has altered with it.

They are people who belong in this place. It would be strange to question that.

That the woman doesn't look up from her ledger when they arrived at her table bodes well. Instead, she sucks down a pull of her cigarette, flicks to the next page on her little book, and it's only one she is exhaling her tobacco scented smoke around the elongated vowel of 'Yeeeees?' that she raises her face to them. "You have ten seconds before you'll be standing in everyone's way, gentlemen."

"Then maybe we should sit," Flint says without blinking to acknowledge the fact that she's occupying the lone chair at the table. "Captain Pearce of the Swift."—there is a ship in every harbor in the world (or worlds) with that fucking with that name; and if not that, then a Daring or a Quicksure or some other descriptive name that might easily be confused with something very like it—"This is my quartermaster."

She looks critically to Silver and takes another drag on her cigarette. Eyebrows raised.

[hornswoggle]

These are imperceptible changes to be sure. Minute shifts, as a particular mask comes twitching down into place.

John observes it with a sense of deja vu; a recognition of a thing repeating itself. (Is this how Captain Flint arrived in Nascere?)

But much like the trick John performed in that alley, this too is set aside in the moment. If John cares to ruminate on it, he will have to do so after their business is concluded.

“Malachi,” is not the first name that comes to John’s mind.

His hand sweeps from one side, presses over his chest as he bends, just slightly. An approximation of a bow.

“We were hoping to establish ourselves with the proprietor of the house. Word has it that this is the best house for a man to bring his hopes of partnership and business in this bustling city.”

Her gaze sharpens. A second plume of smoke is exhaled, clouding the air between them before she prompts, “Business?”

Not yet partnership. But John recognizes a start of something in this succinct query. Her eyes flick from him to Flint, assessing. Calculating. She is not no one, even if she isn’t the exact person they might need.

[sprent]

Gela is guilty of never having given it much thought before, but of course the rifters have not all come from the same place, not like she's been thinking about it, some formless, all-encompassing Rifterworld where they all lived before they came to Thedas. They have come from all over. The universe is more than the city Gela was born in, and the places she's seen.

It's difficult to understand it, if only by the sheer scope of what he's asking her to entertain here, but he's said one thing that is particularly interesting...

All this time, she's been making a face. Reckoning with it, trying to understand. She asks, "Other versions of my world... where the past played out differently? What past?"

[sprent]

"What do you mean?"

Gela actually hasn't been this high up before either, it's a little terrifying! The wind is strong, an invisible hand at her back cajoling her along. She redoubles her grip on Clarisse's, to be sure of herself. "You've been up this high but... inside?"

Oh, like in the building. She points to it, "In there, you mean?"

[notathreat]

Ellie follows that through to its logical conclusion, like -- the idea of making it illegal or impossible for someone else to have kids-

"Why you?" she asks suddenly. "Why were they cloning you?"

Well. Not strictly her. But whoever her genetic material was originally from, which is also a weird thought.

[notathreat]

Ellie watches her back; understands what she's saying. Even understands why she's upset, it just-

"I know. And it's not that it doesn't matter, it just-"

Ellie shrugs, slightly.

"This is just reality here, Derrica. Something like this happens, we stitch it up and move on. Yeah... it hurts. We're scared. Like all the time, and-" Ellie breaks off, biting her lower lip.

"It's- easy to forget how fucked up that is from everyone else's perspective."

bow on this?

[notathreat]

"Same," Ellie sighs, and squeezes back, her heart giving a twinge, too. "... and same."

Ellie presses her lips together, then reaches out to gently knock her knuckles against her arm. "All right. Let's go."

[notathreat]

"Oh, fuck me," Ellie mutters under her breath, tilting her head back, and starts trudging towards it, waving the others on. These rickety fucking things.

"I'm not even bad with heights and this is freaking me out."

They head into the elevator and Ellie pulls the door grate shut. Time to be distracting.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I crossed a whole flooded car park on a catwalk, while the water below had an electrical current running through it?"

Of course she hasn't, but it's a much more fun story than concentrating on whether they might survive this; Ellie obviously survived the one she's telling.

[laruetheday]

"Yeah. In the elevator." Does Gela know what an elevator is? Is she going to be offended if Clarisse explains it to her like she's a child? Whatever. "It's like, uh, this little box you stand in and it lifts you up to the top."

Much less windy. Less cold. And it's glass, so you still get the view, especially at night. But Clarisse has to admit this is a rush, now that she's had a minute to get used to it. The wind really adds to the experience.

[armd]

The ravens pick a little at Abby too until she snaps back, over-eager, unused to her strength; it peels away screaming, unhurt. Pissed though, untrusting. Clearly she's new here. She can tell they're eyeing her up from the sky where she can't get them, so she watches Jude dance around instead, twisting his body in the air when he jumps. He can get so high off the ground, it's like he's leaping for the sun.

She can't imagine living like this. Being so free, and able to go where you like. The emotions that come with this are complex, a strange sort of envy that prickles through her, hackles rising. She doesn't like it.

A raven caws. Abby's ears flick back when she huffs in response, and takes herself off, back the way they came, at a low trot. Jude will catch her up if he likes.

[armd]

"Well," Abby says, a little nonplussed (it's only what it says on the tin there, John), "Basically you pick someone, and stick with them. It's how we typically operate around here. Nobody goes off alone to do anything, just in case."

Including her, including Ellie. Mistakes can happen anywhere, to anyone. At any given time. "We might end up pairing you all off ourselves," she admits, "Depending on experience, and ability. But for now, it'll work best if you know who to stick beside in case we get split up for any reason."

[armd]

"Oh," Abby replies, "My bad. You're with wolves, so." A little sass right back, cuz was this not an easy assumption to make?

Reilly does not look like he's hiding an entire grizzly bear inside of him. Jude looks like his wolf sometimes (the scruff on his face certainly helps) but Abby would not have guessed this about the kid at all, he's... very unassuming. By that she means he's teeny tiny. Comparatively speaking.

"You gotta show me."

[portalling]

“The Provost, yes.” What a profoundly silly-sounding title outside of college. He takes another sip of his tea. “Tony. We’re both from here. He’s got the big fancy tower, I’ve got this townhouse.”

Strange had introduced himself by surname, and any mention of him here as they helped the Theodosians acclimate and settle in had always come by surname as well: you can stay at Strange’s Sanctum. But from the sounds of it, the sorcerer calls him Tony. It seems there’s some sort of easy familiarity with the Provost, some gnarled chain of shared history leading back to this world they’re all currently stranded in.

[portalling]

“It varies too much,” Strange agrees. “It all depends on when their magical aptitude is noticed by the right person to bring them here, or when life conspires to have their paths intersect with the Masters of the Mystic Arts. Some novices are children—” and there’s a gaggle of them passing by in their tidy white robes, rambunctious despite the gravitas of the surroundings,

“and others, like me, were older. Practically middle-aged by the time we opened this particular chapter of our lives. I first heard about this place from a man who came here in his thirties as well.”

And then, with those students within view, Strange starts ticking off the ranks on his hands, easy with the remembrance: “Novice training starts with hand-to-hand combat, martial arts, and meditation. Quite normal and not arcane at all. Once you become an apprentice, that’s when they start adding mystical arts, weaponry, and magic to the curriculum. Full-fledged masters are those who have, well, mastered the above.”

[portalling]

“At least that, yes,” Strange says. Agreeing, mild and toothless, but there’s still that question dangling in midair for him too: is it better or worse? Hard to tell. He doesn’t have that many friends to begin with. On the other hand, it blurred lines and made things awkward. It meant the break wasn’t clean; it would have been so much simpler if he and Christine had just never crossed paths again, although life would have been worse for it.

There’s a thoughtful beat, his head tipping back against that mildewy wall, looking across the dim room and this girl who knows far more of life than she should.

“You’ve… rifted, before.” Ellie’s the only one he’s met so far with that particular credential to her name, the multiple worlds notched in her belt. “This question might sound odd. Have you ever met alternate versions of anyone else you knew? Like, you might have recognised them as someone you knew, but your worlds and memories diverged and didn’t match each others’.”

[armd]

Abby would assume a quick, messy death of anybody else, but Dick- well. All she needs to do is buy him time.

Easier said than done now that the snake turns the full force of a yellow, slit-eyed glare onto her; Abby's pulse rabbits in her ears. Infected don't look at you like that, not with any kind of intelligence simmering just below the surface, they're aggressive, wild. When the snake-man turns she pulls the mace the other way, ripping from his skin, and then he's on her, snapping once, a warning, twice, fangs meeting the wood handle of her weapon to make an uneven grip on it.

Even then there's no time to get it back. Hands suddenly grip around her arms, vice-tight, and she shrieks, no word, just sound. She has to relinquish her weapon to punch and kick, shoving her shoulder into the mass of body when she jumps to get out of the way of the tail whipping around to trip her.

If she can just get her mace back- and ideally a bit of distance- she might be able to turn the tables here.

"Richard,"'s a warning, high and stressed, drawn out. The snake hisses underneath.

[portalling]

You’re welcome, and also, it doesn’t last long. Strange finds himself allergic to moments like this — it practically itches beneath his skin, an uncomfortable needling at the awareness of how wrong he’d been — and so the man pivots, instinctively reaches for that far easier lifeline of a topic Abby’s dangled in front of him:

“Wait, you’ve seen an actual honest-to-god dragon? In-person?”

Christ, there’s some things he has to experience in Thedas still.

[portalling]

Strange’s nose crinkles. God, how many people are going to encourage him to do physical training once they get back to normalcy —

(No, he doth protest too much. It’s a good idea. He’s taking notes.)

“I’ll add it to the to-do list when we get back to Thedas.” And back in Thedas is, by now, the closest thing to home Strange is starting to yearn for. He’s tired of the different worlds, of landing on his feet and trying to speed-run new universes, new systems, new social mores and potential dangers. He wants a nap.

He runs his hands down the line of his makeshift weapon. One quivering thumb pressed against the sharp edge of the shear, testing it. And then there’s a question, bubbling up like tar. “What happens if someone dies while they’re in the Fade? Do you know?”

Just asking. Y’know, for science.

[heorte]

"I don't."

To be clear. This is not Ellis' area of expertise.

"But I imagine it is not so different from dying outside of it."

At the risk of straying too far into debates as to what happens after death, the business of a man's soul and spirit. Ellis is hardly qualified to explain either.

"Are you a religious man?"

[portalling]

“No.” The reply comes a little too quick, and a little sour: not at the other man, but at the mere thought of it. The concept. One gets the impression that particular answer is always a little close to his tongue.

“My father was. I’m not. Personally, I put more faith in what we can achieve by our own power and what’s close to hand — even if that includes magic, these days.”

[heorte]

"I see."

Mild, no judgement attached. But it is an approach that Ellis suspects will be easier to work with; pious men have not always been flexible, in his experience.

"I am trying to decide whether I should send you after a Chantry mother or not. For your question."

But as they've no Chantry mother to hand—

"You might ask Enchanter Julius. He's a measured voice, and knowledgeable. If you've a fear for what will become of you should something happen."

The Enchanter might impart theories more kindly than most others. Ellis certainly is so far outside his experience that all he can offer is blind guesswork.

[armd]

"Oh shit."

Okay, now she's going right back to the desk to sift through the drawers again for any helpful hints. As for what she's got: "Nothing exciting." But they already got a treasure, right? The loaded gun. Any extra ammo is probably in the safe, or it could be completely empty, already used up. "Let's not waste too much time in here. Give the other rooms a sweep. If there's a bathroom, see if you can find some soap or old towels."