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.
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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

Close Calls ↠ Closed to Abby

[notathreat]

It's some time later, when Ellie and Abby manage to get the others to a semi-secure area, that it starts to break over her like a cold sweat.

Their world is a nightmare and always has been, but some nearly three years away from it are a twisted up amalgamation of what she's forgotten and what she never will.

She has a new perspective of what life is supposed to be, but this place has never left her bones.

They find doors that close in an office building meeting room, and Ellie steps into the hallway for a moment, just to catch her breath. To level the axe that she picked up from one of the corpses in her hand, rolling it through her fingers. She'd known it was just a matter of time before the Fade formed this place for her and Abby, and even if it's a dream, she knows from experience that it has captured every horrible detail. Right down to the last dust mote.

It smells the same. It turns her stomach. It terrifies her in ways it didn't before, because she's got so many people in the next room that she doesn't want to imagine living without, and not a one of them fully grasp the danger they're in.

She wonders how many of them will make it through the next few weeks, and that split second of weakness hurts to the core before she locks it up, straightens her spine, flicks her eyes to the side as the door opens a few feet away.

Looks like Abby had the same idea.

She amends her thoughts. There is one other person who recognizes the danger they're in.

[armd]

For a moment it's safe enough to leave them all in the room now that dusk is starting to hit. Jagged amber light reflects off of broken glass to cast odd patterns on the crumbling walls, and Abby closes a door behind her, clicking shut, because she needs a moment to herself. She needs to let it sink in that she's back, here. In Seattle. Home sweet home.

She hadn't missed it.

Without looking she can tell Ellie is there in the hallway with her. Call it survivor's instinct.

They haven't spoken to each other in months.

"... I had this nightmare for months," she says, voice working over her dry throat. Hadn't missed being thirsty either, or constantly on the look out for food, something to boil down and drink, "And I'm still scared."

In her defense this is the wrong way around. The infected were always bursting through into the Gallows in Abby's dreams, she never brought Riftwatch home. They had the advantage every time, had their magic, shards, swords and shields alike. Tomorrow, she is going to have to teach multiple people how to hold and shoot a revolver. She feels sick to her stomach just thinking about it.

[notathreat]

Ellie has been trying to figure out a way to speak to Abby alone since they arrived. To speak to her at all, really- if only to create a temporary lift on the no-talking mandate so they can get everyone through this alive.

She has her mouth open and everything, but Abby, just like always, beats her to it.

... and tells her exactly how she feels, like they never stopped talking at all.

For a second, silence reigns. The muffled voices on the other side of the door, the whispers of wind and the scent of what will become rain.

"Me too," Ellie says softly. It feels like a hole in her stomach now. That constant, gnawing fear, the shadow of death pressing close, like an old love. She hasn't feared it in such a long time. Not on her own behalf. Now, with all of them there...

But now's not the time to delve into that. She has something more important to say, before they can get into anything else.

"Abby, I-"

Something down the hallway cuts her off. A soft skittering noise that pulls both of their attention immediately off into the dark. A glimpse of a spindly, rotting and fungus-encrusted leg, pulling itself away down a corridor, out of the light.

"... shhhit," she breathes, and brings the axe loosely into her hand. Ready.

[armd]

Abby can trust herself to be back. She knows how to spring into action when everything inevitably goes sideways. She can fight her way out of anything, but these people are here with her, one wall between them and everything else. This is a contingent of people that Abby can't lose, but the Crossroads brought them here, and in doing so, lined Riftwatch up like dominoes around her and Ellie.

God, she's so relieved Ellie is here. She can't imagine having to bear this alone. Never mind the silence, the bruised feelings and broken bones, she's just- glad. And-

She sees the sudden movement catch in Ellie's steady gaze, her head twisting away from Abby to follow the sound that interrupts her.

Abby hisses, "I checked the perimeter." She always checks. The stalkers are smarter than that, fuckers, shadow-like, silent right up until they're wrapping their arms around your neck from behind. They must have been watching her do her checks. She plucks her lead pipe from the wall where she'd left it leaning, and gestures with her chin down the hallway after it, "Take lead. I'll cover you."

Whatever is going on with them: it's dead from now on, or they are. Abby understands that perfectly clear, and she knows that she doesn't have to confirm it out loud. Her and Ellie, they'll do what they have to do to survive.

[notathreat]

"I know," Ellie answers solemnly. Abby always checks, she's just as careful as Ellie is and sometimes moreso.

They both know it's always possible to overlook stalkers, because they're that fucking good sometimes. What's terrifying about the world they grew up in is that you can do everything, everything right and still die.

Ellie gives a silent nod and goes low, taking them down the corridor. They don't tell anyone they're leaving.

She's quieter than Abby is, and she finds herself holding her breath out of habit, even if it does nothing for her visibility, and the adrenaline rushing through her veins won't give her anything in the way of supernatural help. (Should she feel diminished, vulnerable? Does she have a right to?)

They get to the corner and Ellie pauses, listening for scratching, breathing, the rasp of anything in the dark. Her flashlight is off because they'll see it, and hide. Her back's to the light they've left behind, her vision adjusting. She switches her grip to guard, and steps out into the corridor, and nothing jumps her.

Ellie doesn't bother to gesture to Abby to guard her back. She knows she will. Instead she presses on, listening for the rustle of air and breath. It has to move eventually, even if only because it wants to follow.

She turns a corner at a crouch and goes dead still, reaching behind her to lay a hand on the back of Abby's wrist, draw her attention to what's in front of her.

Two cubicles away, there is a shadow with stalks crouching in the moonlight, turned away from them.

[armd]

It'll be fine. They're quick, they know what they're doing.

So why is her heart racing? She follows Ellie down the hall, heavy-limbed with dread, palm sweaty around her weapon's grip. It was like this every time wasn't it, it came as natural as breath, it's been a while (that's all).

Crouched, she stretches out a hand toward an old bottle lying on its side at the corner, rolls it in her palm.

It's so quiet she can't even hear Ellie breathing... a single touch serves a perfect warning. Abby looks. Twisting her hand around she taps her fingertips on Ellie's wrist twice, got it, and lobs the bottle high, to fall and break against the far wall with a tinkling crash.

The stalker lurches out into the open with a gargling shriek, toward the sound.

[notathreat]

Just like always, Abby seamlessly gets it, and they remain still as bottle shatters.

But the second it starts to run, Ellie's off like a shot, hefting the axe in her hand.

The stalker's fast, but she's faster, and it never sees her coming. Ellie swings the axe as hard as she can and it buries itself in the side of the thing's neck, lodging between two of the vertebrae. It goes down, twitching and grotesque, and Ellie gives one hard yank to get the axe out, but it's lodged in hard.

Her spine tingles -- she can hear at least two more skittering sets of footsteps.

They've flushed out more of them.

[armd]

Figures. She catches sight of one out the corner of her eye, and it tucks itself back into the gloom before she can get a better visual.

She's aiming to join Ellie on the other side of the room to yank the axe for her, when a shriek from right behind her sets every fine hair on fucking end, the stench of rot suddenly overwhelming.

Abby ducks.

A clawed hand shoots out over the top of her head, grasping for where her braid once was. She jams her elbow backward and hears breath wheeze out, close enough to be hot along the nape of her neck, and she gasps in horror, blindly throws the pipe away from herself and in the vague direction of Ellie.

She needs both hands to grapple this thing. Abby yanks it bodily off its feet and over her shoulder, to slam it downward, hard.

cw: gore

[notathreat]

Every once in a while, when Ellie sees Abby fight, she realizes just how utterly insane she had to have been to go toe to toe with her.

But still, she's not invulnerable, and even as she pulls the stalker bodily over her shoulder and slams it down on the ground, Ellie's abandoning her axe to dart forward and scoop up the pipe, then bring it down with all her strength on the thing's skull. It comes apart like an overripe melon in a gush of blood and thicker things.

Ellie drags in a breath, looking up at Abby, and sees it. The figure detaching itself from a shadow just feet away.

Ellie tosses the pipe with both hands into Abby's chest.

"Behind you!"

cw: gorier

[armd]

Blood and brain spatters her face, wet and hot- Abby gasps raggedly, blinking through it. Some of it goes in her mouth; Ellie is pushing the pipe at her, frantic. She grabs it up in both hands, turns on her heel, and brings it down with all her might.

The pipe end clangs against the floor, the shock rattling up her arms. Missed. The stalker dances free, gurgling.

Abby spits red on the ground and huffs through her nose and all she can smell is rot. She swings at the thing like she's holding a baseball bat and hits it directly in the ribs. They splinter and crack and the body goes flying to the side, collapsing in a bruised heap. One leg spasms grotesquely as it tries to stand again.

... That it?

Then there's time to rub her arm across her eyes, wiping the gore off her face.

[notathreat]

Hm. Gross.

Abby misses the first time and Ellie has her knife out, ready to take the thing from the side if it decides to jump her, but thankfully the Stalker misjudges Abby's reach and takes a crushing blow through the ribs.

The twitching thing on the floor leaves Ellie breathing hard, her hands shaking with the adrenaline of it.

Fuck, Abby folded that thing over like a book.

"Jesus Christ," Ellie mutters, dragging in air as she glances around at the bodies, making sure the twitching thing on the ground is the only thing that's moving, spasming like a half-smashed bug.

"I forgot how much I fucking hate these things."

[armd]

Abby spits on the ground. "Tell me about it." She can wipe her mouth and tongue off on the back of her arm all she likes, the taste is... remaining.

She groans. "God. I'm gonna hurl," and for a moment, everything feels halfway normal. They moved seamlessly around the threat, together. She still trusts Ellie to watch her back even after everything that's happened.

Crossing the room, she finally takes hold of that axe handle and rips it cleanly out of the stalker corpse for her. She's holding it out to Ellie by the head of the weapon when something lunges toward her and she drops it, slicing the heel of her hand by mistake in her haste to get out of the way. The stalker disregards her, coasting by on its momentum, and slams into Ellie, hands curled into claws, tearing at the air.

cw: more gore haha you thought

[notathreat]

"Well, do it over there," Ellie gestures towards one of the empty cubicles; one of them probably has a wastepaper basket she can use, but she's almost, almost smiling, like she's giving her shit on purpose. It's good that Abby's here.

As she crosses the room Ellie follows her, keeping an eye on things. All is quiet, though Ellie stays ready. It almost doesn't come as a surprise when she hears it coming.

Unfortunately, she's just switched her knife to her off hand.

"Abby- shit!"

The stalker sails into her, and Ellie only barely has enough momentum to dodge backwards, and the thing's teeth slam on air where her throat had been just a second before. Another dodge back and she slips on the blood on the floor, creating just a split second of opening needed for the stalker to slam into Ellie, push her down on her back.

As they go down, Ellie's knife blade plunges downward into the thing's shoulder, lodged behind the collarbone and into the ribcage. Instead of glancing off the bone like her stiletto might have, the bigger, heavier blade sticks in it.

Keeping a death grip on the handle of her knife, Ellie slams the heel of her right hand into the stalker's nose, feeling it snap and break under the force.

It backhands her. Just for a second, her grip loosens.

[armd]

Fuck, she thought that Ellie would catch it on her knife, she thought- doesn't matter.

Abby lurches forward, trying to get the distance back. She barely feels her bleeding hand. She grabs for the stalker right as Ellie slips, and the two of them go down hard, her fingers closing on nothing.

Shouting. Abby can't tell from who. Ellie writhing, kicking underneath the thing, trying to pull her knife out of it-- Abby loops her arm around its withered neck to haul it off and it bucks furiously against her, slamming an arm out, an elbow sinking in. When it turns sharply, the handle of Ellie's knife smacks against her arm.

It might have been comical if the stalker hadn't slipped in her grip, fighting, if it hadn't got its mouth free and level with her arm, if it hadn't opened wide, to bite her.

It happens way too fucking fast.

[notathreat]

It's immediate, terrifying, the kind of split second thing that gets people in their world killed. When all of the experience and all of skill goes out the window. Ellie tries to say she doesn't believe in things happening for a reason, and cares even less for luck, but she knows all about when it runs out.

The world blinks back in with Abby's forearm around the stalker's neck, pulling it back off of her and into the kind of crouching, strangling bear hug that Ellie's seen snap bones.

It's a good one, a secure one. Or it would have been if her knife hadn't interrupted it. Given the stalker just enough wiggle room to half-turn towards Abby. For the hold around its neck to give just enough to bring Abby's arm close enough to bite.

She can see its mouth opening, rotting lips pulling back in a horrible grimace. There's no time for rational thought, to do more than draw a line between the stalker and Abby's arm and interrupt it.

And Ellie really only has one thing she can interrupt it with.

Ellie doesn't actually feel the bite, just as she didn't the first time. Too much adrenaline. But she can see the thing's teeth sinking into her left forearm, dull human incisors breaking into the skin.

The elation of got you, motherfucker.

[armd]

Abby screams, she can't help it. She flinches and closes her eyes when the teeth clamp down and sink into her skin, heart beating so fast it doesn't hurt at all. Blood drips over her arm hot and wet. She gasps raggedly and remembers to keep moving, her body lurching haphazardly into action. Her fingers fist into what's left of the stalker's hair, thinning, loosing in horrible, stringy clumps, and pull it backward by the scalp.

It comes hissing and wailing, thrashing, but she slams it into the ground, hard. Temple first, and then again, and again, until the floor is wet and red underneath of the spot and the stalker is limp under her grip.

Cracked skull.

She's breathing so hard, her gaze wild. She looks before she can lose her nerve-

down at the unbroken skin and arm trembling wildly, fingers shaking until she curls them up into a tight fist, squeezing, waiting for agony that doesn't come. For a moment her mind is completely blank. Then she looks at her other arm, then she cottons on, and jerks her head up to face Ellie. The wild lurch of relief is so strong it's sickening.

[notathreat]

It happens like that. Screams and the sickening crunch of bone giving under force. The stalker screams once, probably, but Ellie can't distinguish it.

What she does recognize is the panic, the sick frantic red rush of terror.

"Abby."

It rushes out of her, and she staggers up. "Abby."

She can't even hear herself over it. The space between them disappears and Ellie reaches for her, throwing her arms around her and pulling her back. "Abby-"

The dead stalker slumps out of Abby's hands, dropping wetly to the floor. It leaves Abby half-crouched and half in Ellie's arms as Abby looks in disbelief at her unbroken skin. It takes a second for her to understand. To detach from the mortal peril and really have it sink in as Ellie catches her breath.

"It's fine," she says breathlessly, letting go with one arm to show her the bite. "It's okay."

Blood drips thickly down her skin, and Ellie takes a shuddering breath. Sheer relief.

"I've got you."

[armd]

It swallows her up. Heartbeat in her ears loud enough to drown out everything else, and her body moves slow, underwater-sluggish. She's staring at Ellie's arm, the bite bright and red. She can see the torn edges of skin all tooth marked, bleeding.

She thinks she said something but has no idea what (only a low curse), and then Ellie's arms are around her, pulling her back. Holding her. They're so close.

The sound comes rushing back so quick she shuts her eyes tight and grips Ellie's upper arm in one hand, steadying herself.

Oh, fuck. Okay. Not dead. Close, but-

Her tongue feels thick in her mouth. She gestures toward her head, says distantly, "Didn't even hear it."

[notathreat]

Ellie's hands are bloody but rock steady, her heard still pounding with the adrenaline of it. Abby falters in her arms, but she's got her. She holds the both of them up by holding her.

"Me either," she confesses -- and she'll remember later, with a sick sort of self-recrimination that she had. She'd heard two sets of footsteps. She'd been clumsy, hadn't looked for the second one.

But in the moment, she doesn't, and she looses a shaky exhale. Abby smells like rot and her hands are sticky with blood. They're a goddamn mess. And for once, despite their vulnerability, it's blessedly quiet.

Blood trickles thickly down her arm in rivulets, and she glances down at it with vague, shell-shocked disgust. Feeling comes sliding back in in fits and starts, but most prominent is the relief.

Abby is safe. And for once she doesn't feel all fucked up about it. Doesn't feel bad for being relieved, or glad that she's okay.

The pain starts trickling in, which is also a relief. The longer the delay, the worse the injury tends to be.

[armd]

They meet eyes, then. Abby stares at her, shocked, before she swallows and squeezes her arm up high on her bicep, lets her go. If Ellie were to ask her why she did that, she wouldn't even remember doing it. Her mind is tripping up over itself in its attempt to adjust to the situation, and she sinks down onto her knees beside her, and takes her arm, slow but firm.

"Let me see." It's- uh, easy to see. The bite went deep. Fuck it makes her skin crawl to look at it. She knows Ellie is immune but the sight of the broken, fucked up flesh and blood instinctively makes her want to run, hide, anything, get very far away from Ellie at the very least. For her own safety.

She skims it without thinking, runs her fingertips over one edge, smearing the blood. That breaks the spell.

"There's- the others have more stuff." She has a pack but no antiseptic, no rubbing alcohol. Nothing they could pour on this, flush it out. She says, distracted, "We have to get back. We- oh, fuck. We have to figure out what we're telling them."

We, like she's part of this, when it's Ellie's immunity. But she is part of it. Always has been.

[notathreat]

It's all kind of a blur, adrenaline crashing, but the squeeze still sends prickles of shock all through her shoulders, makes her chest feel tight. It's strange and a relief all at once.

Ellie and Abby weren't friends, not exactly, but they'd been allies, once. On speaking terms. Trusted each other. Relied on each other. Ellie hasn't realized just how hard it's been to not have that security, how much she's been holding her fucking breath over this.

She wants to laugh. All it took was the two of them going home, and going through hell again. Just. Together, this time.

The blood smears over her arm grotesquely as Abby wipes her fingers over it, and more blossoms up in the deeper parts of the bite first, filling the rest of the ridges more slowly.

"It's fine, a few of 'em know already," she makes herself say, her mind racing through the people she knows she's told. Glimmer's at the top of the list, she's known her the longest, followed by Clarisse -- and that thought, and the order in which she had it, leaves her breathless. She stops there, then. Short of remembering who she hasn't told, and how big a fuckup that's about to be.

We, Abby says, when reality trickles back in.

We.

"Abby-" it comes out halting, but it pushes hard in the back of her throat.

[armd]

She knows that she's babbling but this is a silence she has to fill, she needs Ellie to talk back to her, or- pull her arm away, do something, act normal, she's just... sitting. Staring into the distance. Abby wonders if she's finally cracked or if she's having that same baseball bat to the head moment of realisation Abby had the day after they got here: we're actually back. Oh, fuck, we're home, and so is everybody else. She had to take herself away from the group and go put her head between her knees.

"Yeah, but they're gonna freak out if you walk in looking like that!" To say nothing of herself, the blood spattered all over her face. There's viscera in her hair, "Do- you want to hide it? I think I have bandages."

It'd be difficult, but Abby thinks they could do it. They could find Glimmer, she could cover for Ellie.

[notathreat]

"Abby," Ellie says again, and she can hear the way her voice is climbing, can feel the panic seeping in. It's both of them, really, and when Ellie reaches for her arm she squeezes too hard, probably, to get Abby to look at her.

"Abby. It's fine. If I hide it and somebody finds it they're all gonna wonder why. If they don't believe us, we just..."

Ellie takes a deep breath, shakes her head, even as her voice comes a little thicker.

"Wait it out, until they do."

Remember, Abby? Ellie's had experience with this sort of thing.

[armd]

No, it's good that she squeezes too hard, because Abby's muscle jumps under her touch; she looks, and falls silent abruptly.

Right. Right, that... yeah, all of that makes sense. It's certainly significant that she doesn't immediately try to argue against anything that Ellie has said, just opens her mouth and then closes it, once, twice. They haven't been on the same side like this, not for months, Abby wouldn't let them. Looks like they didn't forget how.

"Okay." She's breathing more evenly now, and the exhaustion hits like a tonne of bricks as the adrenaline fades, settling across her back and shoulders. Her arm aches, in a fucked up kind of sympathy.

She nods again and reaching up, wipes across her face. Feeling the tack of the drying blood makes her grimace and repeat, "Okay."

Silence. She sucks in a breath, and says, quieter, "Let's- get back, and find supplies. You might need a couple stitches."

[notathreat]

Ellie watches Abby's face until the panic fades, and it feels like she can swallow her own. It's a narrow thing, leaves her legs shaky. She knows why neither of them get up right away.

"Right."

Letting go of Abby's arm, Ellie instead puts her palm over the bite and applies pressure, drags in a breath. Finally, what feels like a million years later, even though it's only been a few minutes, Ellie turns her attention on what she'd been about to say before the stalker interrupted them.

"Abby, I..." she trails off, chest rising and falling shallowly. She can't quite look her in the eyes. They're talking again, and this is important.

Because she couldn't say it while they weren't.

"The last time we talked, I... the way I came at you... and for not telling you about the beach-" she trails off, jogging her leg as she searches for words, and can't find them. Fuck, she'd think that she'd have figured out what to say.

"I'm sorry."

It's a pit, in her stomach. All the things she's sorry for. But she can at least apologize for this.