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.
earth-199999. ota.
For starters, plenty of pre-Avengers footage with post-Avengers interest, lectures and awards acceptances and interviews that no one but leaders in electrical science and engineering and weapons manufacturing would have ever cared about before, one day, you can find the well-documented press conference footage of a post-Afghanistan Tony Stark, wild eyed and bruised, declaring that Stark Industries would be shutting down its weapons division. A differently chaotic media appearance, not long after, of a calmer version of the same man casually changing the world by declaring himself a superhero.
It's not all good, not all uncomplicated. Harsher criticism if your corner of Google predates his apparent death when it comes to the recklessness of the Avengers, the galactic arms race of the exponential escalation of Stark's technological developments, the destruction of Sokovia, the distant past that never gets scrubbed clean no matter how much good in the world he might have done. Anything post-Blip (whatever that means) is a little kinder. No, absurdly kinder. The mark he made on the world, for the better. The sacrifice.
Yadda yadda.
It's so excruciatingly public, all of it, that Tony isn't stopping anyone. Modern technology is, by design, incredibly intuitive to even the most technophobic of Thedosians, and that's even before accounting for a helpful A.I. who is happy to assist and enable this influx of guests to the Avengers Tower.
For the most part, so long as people have figured out how to feed and shelter themselves, Tony leaves them alone. Go nuts, kids.
But he does appear to have some kind of uncanny sense for when he might be needed. Anyone very distressed and lost in the sensory overload of Manhattan, having some kind of awkward stand-off with the police for a crime committed accidentally or on purpose, or some other strife that may be detectable through an invasive interest in the smartphone in their pocket, may suddenly find themselves with company.
For instance, luxury car pulling up with a not-too-harried Tony Stark in the driver's seat, or—look out below!—the appearance of Iron Man himself, roaring flame and shining in red and chrome, landing with a heavy metallic thump on the sidewalk.
Meanwhile, Tony can be found often at the Avengers Tower. Flying in on the landing pad, doffing his armor through the smooth articulation of robotic arms rhythmically disassembling it piece by piece as he walks. Working in his labs, armed with a glass tablet and surrounded by holograms as he combs the world entire for suspicious energy signals, news headlines, events that might clue them in on the location of the Sealing Stone piece they may or may not need.
Maybe building some stuff. It is nearly Christmas, and there's a demand for rocket boots.
After the high of the first few days, the first week, Tony is more intent on throwing himself into his work—or, probably, ignoring the siren calls of the world around him. There is less leaving the lab for no reason, there is more deferring to Jarvis is someone needs anything, flirting with the very real danger of sealing himself up away from the time-torn fabrication of his home outside—
But, you know. If you're looking for something to eat, he'll still go show you where to get a pastrami sandwich that comes highly recommended. Just to get out of the house.
[ ooc ; happy and willing to make up some bespoke adventures, write some interactions with mcu npcs, and so on, but wanted to open things up for whatever the above might inspire too! just plurk/discord me if you wanna plot. ]
a wild card appears
Her mouth opens like she's planning to form a word, but she can't find a grip on it, circles around it and gives up with a laugh, head shaken again. A heavy exhale, two, a hand pushed through hair. ]
Maybe we should stay.
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[ and Tony has already opened his burrito, holding it very delicately between armor-clad fingers, speaking around a mouthful, ]
I'll look up how to make queso before we pack up shop.
[ Because obviously it's the Tex-Mex that Yseult is referring to.
No, he is conscious that she is not, a glance over that is knowing and amused and probably fond, before directing that energy back out at the view. ]
We could take a vote. We love voting as much as melted cheese, out here.
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Not the retirement I'd envisioned. [ She finds her hands and begins carefully unwrapping the foil the way Tony has. ] But I can see why you'd miss it.
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But there is an undeniable scale to modern American cities that brews up feelings of affection and nostalgia, and maybe sometimes, by sitting next to one, Tony can imagine it through a Thedosian's eyes. Meanwhile, Wysteria had found it all so appalling as to be thrilling. ]
Joke's on you, [ Tony says, mouthful swallowed, ] if this were real, I'd conscript you all right back into world-saving. That's the pricetag for rocket boots.
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And one I'd pay. [ She thumbs the corner of her mouth clean. ] But I'd hardly be of use here. It would take years to learn enough about this place to work, and between guns and rocket boots you've no need of my other skills.
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And also: delicious. Tony grunts agreement at her eyebrows, chasing another bite of his own as he does so. ]
You know, [ tramples over the top of her last few words, as if he hadn't heard them at all ] food was almost the worst part about coming to Thedas. I mean, it's technically great, my gut health is flourishing, but talk about cold turkey. Sometimes with actual cold turkey. I don't think I ate properly for like a week.
I'd give you six months, [ because of course he was listening, chasing firing synapses aside. ] Tops, with acclimation. That'd be enough to get to work.
There's still downtime between disasters.
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I'm electing to take that as a compliment to my skills, rather than a suggestion that what I do takes so little.
[ After another bite, she explains more seriously, ] Every job contains some uncertainties, but usually I know where they are and can plan. The most dangerous jobs are the ones with uncertainties I don't even know to consider. Here, that's everything. [ She peels back another strip of foil. ]
But it would be hypocritical to refuse.
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[ —but it's a joke, rather than an ardent agreement of this hypothetical hypocrisy. He had listened, though, in that Tony was likewise eating his burrito and enjoying the delicious green paste inside as he did so. ]
And anyway, sixth months 'cause sure, skills, but also, my world is pretty user friendly. You're talking about data, but you're forgetting the apparatus. The tools at your disposal, and not just rocket boots.
[ A shrug, a minor whir of machinery as he does so. ]
Fine, I'll give you a year. That's how long it took me to convince you guys how smart and cool I am.
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She's thinking about that apparatus—how easy it's been to gather information about this world, as simple as asking a question aloud (or a series of them, more often) and having JARVIS supply an answer or a resource. How there seems to be a machine for everything. How much easier her work would be with the ability to peek through walls and eavesdrop across the world, intercept mail and track targets all without leaving her desk. No doubt there are devices that would make it unnecessary to learn this place's languages, or its locks, or how to climb its sheer walls of towering glass, or whatever else. But all these aids might be turned against her, too. How much more difficult it is to disappear, here. Six months or a year, just to get started. And then?
She tears another strip of foil, clumsy in machine gloves, and watches the wind catch a crinkled scrap and blow it off toward the downtown skyline. ]
Did you know you'd died, when you first arrived by rift?
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hi sorry
i forgiv
how bout now
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now me
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let me here.
It's not in his nature to pry. (Though Ellis is perhaps unavoidably adjacent to Wysteria, who has no such compunctions in her curiosity.) But bits and pieces filter through his awareness without much effort on his part.
The armor. The many dissenting, overlapping opinions. The sacrifice, and how it has sanctified him.
Ruadh is not here. In his stead, it's Ellis who frequently, inevitably gravitates into the workshop to simply be nearby. Not necessarily useful in the work, but present. Helpful if only to be a tangible reminder that food is necessary, and prompt Tony to take them both down in the elevator, out into the city, to acquire sandwiches.
The table in the deli is small, legs slightly uneven, everything gleaming metal and black formica tabletop nearly obscured with plates. Ellis is still edgy and uncomfortable moving through the world wholly unarmed. He's seated himself with his back to the wall out of ingrained, unthinking habit, not yet reaching for anything on the table as he watches Tony arrange the components of their meal in optimal alignment.
They're a long way from a cup of tea ferried up ten flights of stairs. Ellis has not said this, but it is on his mind too, as he plucks at the cashmere cuff of his sweater.
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Getting accosted by fans has been somewhat normal, if not as chaotic or even as frequent as anyone might expect, if they expected it. It has happened enough times for Tony to demonstrate his skill in moving them along efficiently rather than getting mired in every interaction. This time, though, the interaction manifests in the form of a kid who barely reaches the edge of the table, having appeared from around the back of the counter.
(The guy working there gives an apologetic shrug when glanced back at.)
"Can I help you?" Tony asks, and the boy holds up a slightly tattered, well-loved Avengers themed colouring book. Sitting back in his chair, Tony very seriously takes it, flicking through it with the edge of his thumb. "Okay, let's see what we got here."
The kid takes the initiative to climb up onto the extra chair while Tony appraises his work, assessing Ellis frankly to see if he matches any of the other superheroes on TV in between. There's a pause from Tony over an Iron Man that's been coloured in green ("very sustainable, great messaging, but I think the Hulk might sue for infringement"), and then he eventually hands it back.
"Incredible work," Tony tells him. "I could make a call, clear a wall at MoMA, what do you need?"
"Can I have a donut?"
Tony glances at the table, where there await some donuts, and says, "Yes."
A small hand reaches over with great confidence, selecting a donut with minimal groping around, before retracting. There's a light thump as the kid jumps the short distance down off the chair, colouring book under arm, and retreats for the counter without a glance back.
Tony watches him go as he picks up a napkin from the table, wiping off his own hands, before his attention returns back to Ellis. "You can have the other donut," he assures, and nudges the plate over a half inch closer. "All yours."
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Lifts the knife from the crinkled napkin to cut the donut down the center in two clinking motions. Sharing.
A few other topics are very obviously at hand. Ellis could put voice to them, if he liked. But a few moments of quiet eventually give way to—
"What is Moma?"
The lack of capitals forming acronym are somehow very clear in his pronunciation. Is it a Thedas thing? Maybe.
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"Museum of modern art," Tony supplies, gesturing with his sandwich each word to indicate the acronym. "I could only probably clear a wall, don't tell the squirt. Pepper," an on the other hand gesture, "definitely could. It was more her side-hustle than mine."
He reaches across the table to steal a fry from Ellis' plate.
"We could check it out after. I can promise a lot of it will be as baffling and obnoxious as everything else."
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If there were a ranking, MOMA probably falls somewhere beneath rattling, overcrowded metal cars deep within the earth.
The sentiment is carried along only by the expression on Ellis' face, telegraphed across the table as he chews, swallows, picks through the assortment of food after the cup of coffee.
"Alright."
Perhaps because Ellis has some commitment to Tony receiving the requisite amount of time in fresh air, outside of his workshop. Or because the idea of art on display to anyone who might care to look is of interest to Ellis.
Maybe he would like to see the art, baffling and obnoxious though it may be.
"The Hulk?" is prompting too, an obvious, if abbreviated, question.
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"The Hulk," he echoes, "is Bruce Banner, a friend of mine. Avenger. He transforms into a giant green killing machine, which is handy to have on your side specifically. Smart cookie too."
He has described Wysteria that way. Viktor. Fitz, all that time back. Geniuses everywhere you turn.
Tony sets down his phone, stabs a fork into some macaroni salad.
"And apparently he's a big hit with the kids. You'd think the flying fire-engine red robot suit guy with better jokes would push some lunchboxes, but here we are. How's your meat?"
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As far as expanded definitions go, it isn't entirely nonsensical.
"Good."
One of the least baffling meals he's had. Tony's instincts were correct.
"Did you miss it?"
The suit. The notoriety.
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A gesture, at the question, and while he swallows. Pastrami? Macaroni salad? 'It' sure does cover a range of sins, but with Ellis, he can kind of apply Occam's razor.
"Sometimes," he says. "There's a lot to miss."
He turns his sandwich around in his hands, shrugs a shoulder. "I'd given it up already. Quasi-retirement. Tinkering in the woodshed."
Wife and kid. No need to say that out loud, though.
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tees up a bow
cinches it
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Perhaps she knocked her head when she arrived? She doesn't remember doing it, so it must have been very hard.
She finds Tony in his Tower, where he lives at the top like a princess in a bedtime story. He is working on something when Gela comes a-knocking, but he did stress that they could ask him any questions didn't he!
"Excuse me," she says, entering, her hands balling together in front of her as her attention zips to the hologram he is currently studying, and spinning around with his fingers. It takes a moment for her to find her voice again, struck by the strangeness of it. "Where do I go to find a healer? I've hurt my inner ear."
It may have given her a 'disorder'!
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Tony looks back over his shoulder at her, hands still hovered up like an orchestra conductor. Maps, signals, equations all written in light on the air, responsive to fingertips where circular patterns seem to emanate. It is not, on reflection, very visually different to Strange's method of casting, and when he dismisses what he's doing with a flick of his wrists, it has a bit of magician's flare in and of itself.
He kneels a knee on a wheeled chair, kicking off on the smooth floor to go and slide on towards her, stopping just short. "Doctor," he says. Correction. "Which is what Doctor Strange is, just, by the by, doesn't matter, how did you hurt your inner ear?"
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It was a blur, but Gela thinks she would remember something like that. She says, "But look," and waits for his attention before she bends her knees and jumps-
shooting upward, quickly ascending, toward the ceiling, almost touching-
before she reaches the peak of her arc, and floats... slowly, back to the ground again.
See?
Huge inner ear problem!
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surprised, but not freaked out, eyebrows up and arced as he watches her descent with impressed silence.
"Cool," he says, a second after her feet have touched terra firma, now nudging his chair around to cruise him towards a work countertop. There, he picks up a tablet, colours and shapes immediately twinkling over clear glass in response. "Are you concentrating on rate of descent or is it doing that on its own?"
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Once she's back on the ground, she has to think, bobbing slightly where she is, like a displaced helium balloon. "Oh, I don't..."
Hold on! Let her test. Obviously he was the right person to come to about all of this, because he is already asking questions Gela hadn't thought about. She goes up again, and comes down, thinking hard, deliberately trying to make herself fall faster, but she descends at the same, gentle rate: a leaf falling from a tree.
"No," is her conclusion, hands going to her hips, "It just happens, I suppose. I tried to make myself fall faster just now.
Do you know what's happenin'?"
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"She appears to be jumping very high and floating down slowly, sir."
"Well, let's crunch some numbers and try that again, shall we?"
"As you wish."
The echoey prim-and-proper voice seems to emanate from somewhere upwards, but also all around, and likely by now is not unfamiliar—also the sense of humour is sometimes permission-restricted.
Tony did not watch with his eyes as Gela went through the motion again, watching something scroll out across the tablet in hand that tracked her movement. Over his shoulder, the numerical representation of her own action plays out in ghostly numbers, lines, a figure-sketch of Gela herself leaping, landing.
"My guess is you have a superpower, though, it's not like. A medical condition. Like if your ear hurts that's probably a separate thing you should talk to Dr. Strange about, but this part's for me."
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"Why do I have a superpower?" She didn't ask for one. The little jump is useful, sure, but she'd rather not have something like it, because she hasn't discovered how to stop doing it yet, which is concerning to her. "Never mind about the ear, I think it was a bad guess. Or a second guess, really, I asked the phone, but it didn't have many nice things to say."
Another reason why she came to ask. 'Google', whomever she is, loves to tell people that they have 'cancer'!