Fade Rift Mods (
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faderift2022-11-29 07:54 pm
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Entry tags:
- ! mod plot,
- ! open,
- abby,
- bastien,
- benedict quintus artemaeus,
- clarisse la rue,
- cosima niehaus,
- derrica,
- ellie,
- ellis,
- gela,
- gwenaëlle baudin,
- james flint,
- john silver,
- kostos averesch,
- marcus rowntree,
- mobius,
- obeisance barrow,
- stephen strange,
- vanya orlov,
- viktor,
- wysteria de foncé,
- yseult,
- { jude adjei },
- { mado },
- { richard dickerson },
- { tony stark }
MOD PLOT ↠ HOME FOR RIFTMAS
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.
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.
no subject
Ellie gestures back over at the fridges, where they're all clouded over with dust. "25 year old expired syrup, probably?"
Ellie tears open a packet of salted peanuts with her teeth, pops one in her mouth. Clarisse is handling this better than most of the others, but Ellie doesn't doubt she's scared, too. She'd have to be stupid not to be.
"Y'know, until I saw these things new, I never actually believed it," she says, pointing out the fridges. "Power on all the time, just keeping drinks cold."
no subject
"Right? Just like magic." She actually has no idea how a fridge works, so she really hopes Ellie doesn't care enough to ask. "And air conditioning? Shit. Don't get me started." Ditto AC. Or, like, any modern technological convenience.
Her heart's clearly not in the banter, though. She's uneasy.
no subject
Ellie trails off. "It seemed like a waste. All that power for something like that."
Her heart's not in it, either. She's swinging between terrified and sick to her stomach, hating this place and being weirdly defensive of it. Yeah, it's a hellhole, but it's the one she grew up in.
But none of that is Clarisse's fault.
Ellie reaches out with her free hand, rubs the side of her thumb along Clarisse's shoulder, just a brief touch. She's not sure if it's meant to comfort Clarisse or herself.
no subject
Ellie’s thumb rubbing her shoulder is sweet, and Clarisse has to fight the urge to lean up against her. They haven’t really been touching the past few days, for obvious reasons. The situation’s too fraught, and there are other people around almost all the time. But she misses it.
“Hey, we’re okay,” she says, and gives Ellie’s arm the lightest knock with her knuckles.
no subject
Ellie trails off, realizing that it's. Not going to be funny, no matter how she words it. God, the things she's fucking done for a gallon of gas. For a medical kit. For a dose of penicillin.
Until Clarisse and the others came here, it had just been hard. Ellie had never realized how bad it really, truly was.
Ellie quickly sobers at Clarisse's comfort. She wants to lean into her too. To hide her face for like, five seconds. Tops.
Maybe, if she were in the Gallows. But not here. Not now.
"We will be," she promises.
no subject
She guesses she can see how the mini fridge in her dorm could be considered a waste, yeah.
“We going in there?” She nods in the direction of the back room. She’d seen Ellie clock it and then purposefully avoid it, but it seems like there might be some good shit hidden away back there.
no subject
"If we wanna feed everyone, yeah," Ellie says with a sigh, reaching up to re-adjust her backpack.
"That's the tradeoff. Any place that hasn't been picked over is more likely to be infested. Bigger risk, bigger reward."
Pretty much always.
"You got your gun loaded?"
no subject
She grins in Ellie's direction, but it's too toothy and doesn't reach her eyes. It makes her look more feral than anything else.
She's not scared to fight monsters, but she's never fought these things before. She can't stop messing with the straps of her backpack and occasionally shifting on her feet like she's an athlete trying to stay warmed up before jumping in. And she's swallowing a lot. It's fine, they're fine, she's fine, this is fine.
There'd better be some good shit in this back room.
cw: gore
Ellie swings her attention back towards Clarisse, a little wide-eyed before she can calm herself the fuck down. It's really not the time to be attracted to Clarisse, even if she looks like she'd love to tear out a throat.
That's normal, probably.
"Okay."
Ellie takes out her own handgun; it's a .45, taken off a WLF soldier she and Abby ran across earlier. She'd expected her to flinch, even just a little bit. She hadn't. Maybe that says something about the kind of people they were.
Enough stalling, though. Ellie keeps her gun handy, tries the latch. It doesn't unlock, but something in there gives a croaking scream, and Ellie swallows a groan.
"At least one clicker," she confirms, stowing her gun in favor of a crowbar, which she shivs into the side of the lock, fiddling a moment before she gets the proper leverage, and gives a wrenching pull, holding, holding until it finally screams itself open, and Ellie stumbles backward two steps.
The clicker comes at her with a deafening shriek, spilling out of the vault just as Ellie screams back, casting the crowbar upward like a golf drive, catching the thing's chin and ripping half its jaw off.
It really looks like all she did was piss it off. Ellie's already going for her gun, backing up to give it room.
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"Shit," she yells, but the sound's completely lost in the thing's shrieks. Its jaw is half gone, and it's still screaming, still reeling back around to keep going after Ellie.
Clarisse has her own gun out, and she comes at the clicker from the side, puts a round into its neck and another in its head. Blood and bone and pieces of whatever the fuck's all over the thing's head go flying, and the clicker goes stumbling back, but it's not down yet.
cw: body horror
But for right now, she's just fucking terrified.
She gets just a glimpse of the fear in Clarisse's eyes as the thing rounds on her, and that's more than enough.
Ellie lets out another shout of rage and brings the crowbar around, catching it in the back of the head. There's a sickening crack and a huge chunk of fungal plating goes flying, and the clicker stumbles sideways into one of the candy racks.
It knocks it over, but doesn't go down- instead it turns its horrible, eyeless, gory face towards Clarisse, and makes a break for her again. Horribly fast, inhuman strong.
It's half-destroyed, bleeding mouth is open in a deafening scream, hands clawed.
🍄😱
She’s ready for it. Thinks she is, anyway, except her arm hits an end cap as she steps back and steadies herself to take another shot, and that’s all it takes to knock her off balance. The shot goes wide, grazes the clicker’s shoulder, and that’s all she has time for before it’s basically on top of her.
She hits the ground hard, air driven from her lungs in a rush, and tries to scramble out from under the weight of the thing on top of her. It’s putrid and screaming and has her legs in its grip, and the only thing she can think is don’t let it fucking bite you—
She draws back one leg and kicks as hard as she can. She’s not as strong as she was a few days ago, but it’s solid, and her combat boot hits center of what used to be the clicker’s face. Clarisse sees teeth and blood hit the air, and the toe of her boot’s in the thing’s mouth. She feels pressure as it tries to bite through the leather.
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Is it bad, she'll wonder later, that she still thought rationally? That the panic that came over her when Clarisse went down was so at home in her brain that she had the presence of mind to drop the crowbar and pull her knife, because Clarisse has given her an opening to get close enough to use it?
Ellie grabs the clicker in a bear hug from behind, and plunges her knife through the gaps in the thing's neck plating, biting deep into the side of the throat, hitting vertebrae and scraping, finally severing the nerves.
Blood sprays over its shoulder, down its front like a grotesque bib, staining Clarisse's shirt. Ellie pulls it off her, letting it slump out of her arms. Knife still in hand and breathing hard.
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Later.
Right now, Clarisse rolls over, gasping for breath. She staggers to her feet and kicks the slumped body of the clicker out of the way. She grips the gun so tight it feels grafted to her hand.
She turns to look at Ellie, pale, not sure what she’s going to say, and then there’s something else in the shadow of the door to the storage room, moving fast. Her eyes go wide.
“Behind you,” she manages to gasp out.
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Stalker.
Normally, she'd dodge. If it was anyone she was with on patrol, she'd dodge and trust the person behind her to get themselves the fuck out of the way. But Clarisse wasn't raised with this shit, and the risk of her getting grabbed or having to wrestle with this thing is too high.
It's smaller, slimmer, dry and desiccated. There's still a name badge and the remnants of a work uniform clinging to it. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a bright smile. A happy go lucky teenager, once upon a time.
Ellie throws her weight into it, ramming it with her shoulder, and they go down in a tangle. She keeps a death grip on her knife, but can't yet bring it to bear.
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"What the fuck are you doing?" she yells, as Ellie does the exact fucking opposite of what she should, and slams into the infected like she thinks she's some kind of offensive lineman. The two of them go down, grappling, and Clarisse can see Ellie's knife sort of pinned between them, her arm stuck under the weight of the infected.
Shit. Can't shoot at it without maybe hitting Ellie. She doesn't trust her aim that much, not when she'd be betting on Ellie's life.
She doesn't hesitate. Clarisse grabs for the pipe she's been hauling around instead. She chokes up on it like it's a baseball bat and swings it into the side of the thing's head as hard as she can. She can feel the vibration of the hit go all the way up her arms.
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She gets to her feet before she answers, which is probably a telltale sign.
"You were behind me," she says, like that should be self-evident. There's a growl that comes on the heels of it, a gruffness that shades through her voice, tight.
She wonders if Joel will ever fully leave her sometimes, because she can hear him like this, tucked up under her tongue.
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"Ellie—" She doesn't trust herself to say anything else.
Instead she gives the pipe a shake, sending blood raining down on the tile at her feet, and walks to the open doorway of the storage room. It's all quiet in there now, but she's not sure whether she can trust the silence.
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And it twists up in her stomach, her face falling as Clarisse turns away.
Yeah. She might've expected that.
The adrenaline crashes as they check out the rest of the store, sweeping the area. Ellie's hands have a very fine shake in them that she can't quite control as they load up on canned goods, fitting as many as they can in their backpacks, the silence leaking out between them like a growing bloodstain.
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Eventually Clarisse can't fit anything else in her bag. She manages, after a little struggle, to zip it closed, then takes a minute to sit with her back to one of the shelves, bag between her feet. She starts rolling a piece of dirty gauze between her hands to keep them from shaking, and watches Ellie out of the corner of her eye, waiting for her to finish up.
She doesn't look pissed anymore, just sort of blank.
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This is important.
Pushing the breath out of her body with a sigh, Ellie grips the top of her bag with both hands, squeezing until the zipper bites into her fingers. She's got blood flecks all over her, down her front, making her fingers greasy.
"I'm sorry," she says finally, very quietly, and doesn't quite look up. Finally, her fingers still.
"I'm scared." Ellie runs her tongue along her bottom lip. "Shitless, actually. I-" she pauses here.
"I've lost a lot of people. And I'm scared of losing you. Especially here."
Here, in her world. To things she's supposed to know all about. To a parameter she should've checked before letting her guard down.
"I should've trusted you."
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Finally: "You're scared of something happening to me, so you blind tackle one of those fucking things? And then what?" She doesn't wait for an answer. There's heat rising in her cheeks. "You're not immune to getting your fucking throat ripped out."
She squeezes her hand into a fist.
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Dina used to tell her she was way too reckless, and she was probably right, but this still fucking sucks.
Because Clarisse is still right.
Ellie rolls her jaw, bites the inside of her cheek.
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The silence stretches out for several long moments. Ellie's eyes are dark, and her jaw is set. Finally Clarisse rubs a dirty, blood-splattered hand over her own face.
"You can't do that," she says. "Okay? Not for anyone. You can't do that shit on purpose and get yourself killed."
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Ellie drags in a breath, gets to her feet before she thinks it through, and wraps her arms around Clarisse's shoulders from the side. Pulls her in to hold on tight.
"Okay," she says softly.
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cw: injury
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cw: uh, just some light torture
cw: gore, executions
cw: more gore, executions
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