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.
OTA
The Yellowstone pack's visitors are graciously welcomed into the Den, which is a private community located in the deep wilderness of the park. It's a combination of old and new, with everything from cave dwellings to hand-built wooden cabins to yurts and RV's. Some of the common buildings are newer, modular snap-together homes with large gathering spaces and full amenities. There are kitchens, smokehouses, storehouses, bathing areas with hot water, and greenhouses. The Den is fully equipped with running water, gas and internet, and it is mostly powered by solar energy and heated by the clever piping of hot water beneath the floors.
Though it's definitely not the height of luxury, there will comfortable beds to sleep in, including bunks, hammocks and regular beds, though private space will be harder to come by. The visitors will be offered clean, warm modern clothes, and many of the items appear to be hand-knitted or mended with love where needed. Jude will provide everyone with a satellite phone connected to the pack's frequencies and gently remind them that leadership may revoke phone privileges if they spam the groupchat.
Jude himself would never abandon the people who came through the Rift with him, and he himself is easy to find for questions, conversation and company. Just as he did at the Gallows, Jude is normally found in the gigantic shared kitchens, assisting various elders, cleaning honey off of toddlers and directing sullen teens in the fine art of washing dishes.
Those interested in spending time with the pack will be happily given jobs if they want them, such as cooking, cleaning, moving heavy items, assisting with construction, sewing, knitting, mending, gardening and grocery runs in one of the pack pickup trucks. For more martial types, they might be tapped to assist in the ongoing training provided to every single member of the pack, producing skilled two-legged AND four-legged fighters, from small children onward. This arrangement makes it very clear why they have allowed strangers in so easily. For all that Jude's pack has a peaceful way of life, they are still very much wolves, and violence has carved deep gouges all through their history. They always have ready teeth and claws.
If hanging around the pack doesn't appeal, everyone's always welcome to hike out to the hot springs or try their hand at skiing and snowboarding.
For those who stay, they'll be invited on the full moon pack run. Even the scouts are called in for this; they'll all shift into fur and feathers and take off, Adrianna in the lead.
Howl your heart out. Sleeping outside in the snow is optional, but it happens.
no subject
if Gwenaëlle has demonstrated anything, in these jaunts through the worlds (or their echoes) that her companions have come from, it is a nearly aggressive willingness to adapt and learn and make herself useful. Proactive about it, even; determined now that the tables have been turned to hold herself to the same high standards she's always insisted upon for rifters in Thedas. Probably the only surprising part about that is that it matters to her so fucking much — that she clearly cares not to be made a hypocrite by her own actions.
So it's not that. That isn't why she is not much seen in any of the jobs she might have been well-suited to, none of the sewing or mending, not hanging over the shoulder of those in the know to learn more about modern approaches to first aid. Nor does she seem to be making nearly as much use of the satellite phone that she was given as she had the little rectangles Stark had handed out in New York — that she had been on constantly, and this one seems to be as often as not left with the rest of their belongings. Game to try different things. It's unusual to see her so little, except that she isn't, actually, very difficult to find.
The wolf that is Gwenaëlle is on the small side, as female wolves go; the scarring that circles her body — the chunk out of her thigh — leaves odd gaps in her thick, dark fur, the scars themselves not quite visible but the inconsistency of her coat speaking to the damage underneath it. Most immediately identifiable is the blank golden right eye, still there, still absent, how conscious she clearly is as she navigates of favouring her blind spot. Given the ability and the option, she spends most of her time in this form, circling the edges of gatherings, groups — herding children of any shape toward their adults but hanging back from following. Pacing the space, restless, seeking out her familiar people but rarely interrupting; checking to see what they're doing, watching, and padding away to find someone else, and check on them.
When she starts following Jude — at a distance, polite, stopping when she's looked at and laying down on her forepaws, but back up on her feet again and still there, later — it is not, exactly, to a purpose. Except the same purpose that she's had in every world: to make sense of what she's experiencing. Maybe she'll understand better, after she's watched him for a while.
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There is a pull to him, a sense of gravity and peace, a warmth, like sinking into a hot bath. He emanates it, that calming stillness. The pack around him responds to it.
They don't treat him any differently for it, no. There's no reverence. He's a beloved family member. There to love and be loved by, to joke and rib and wrestle and cuddle with.
They notice Gwenaëlle, too. The children watch her with wide eyes; innocent, puzzled, curious. They keep looking at her as if to make sure she's really there, like something about her doesn't line up with their senses. The adults see her and more often than not, go quiet. They don't seem afraid or unfriendly, but something about her is unusual. After the first day, once it's clear she means no harm, it settles into kindness. A still-warm cookie left on a plate near the corner of a cabin, from an elder in the kitchen. A child leaves a doll in the bowl of grass where Gwen last slept. One of the mothers, a sweater, hand-knitted and smelling of pack.
It's an invitation. But they never seek her out, never push.
Jude does.
He comes as a wolf, approaching huge and deadly out of the dark, with all of his stillness and calm. And if allowed, he'll stretch out next to her and lay down.
Sentinel, they call him. The watcher.
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(She doesn't take the cookie, but she wears the sweater when she needs something to make a brief, two-legged errand semi-decent. The jagged claw-burns that make her look piratical and exciting where they start at her sternum in the low, tight bodices she favors at home are uglier winding around her upper thigh and bisected by the chunk a wyvern once bit out of the same leg; she is less self-conscious of them than she feels here she is suddenly wearing her loneliness like a terrible warning.
The doll is still where it was left, but crushed slightly into the grass, and smelling of Gwenaëlle, who had slept on it.)
Her good eye opens at Jude's approach; her ears alert, though she otherwise doesn't move. Or not much. It's difficult to get lower than lying down, but there's a sort of sense of hunkering all the same, like she's figured out a clever way of moving her center of gravity even lower than her body. He is soothing to be around in a way that's just as unsettling as everything else here — she can't help but resist it, suspicious of a trap, even conscious as she is that Jude is one of the few things in this constructed world that is the least likely to disguise a secret pitfall. His people, imagined into the Fade, might turn less cooperative if pressed too firmly on the matter of what Riftwatch is here to search for,
but Riftwatch are her people, and he's one of them. So it's irrational to be suspicious of him because he's nice to be around, and there's a certain stubborn contrariness about the way she is clearly vibrating to get up and leave now that the tables have been turned on her and won't.
This is fine, probably.
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Just as easily as the suspicion reads over, so does the stubborn need. The desire to watch. The ache of something missing and not well known. It's a big deal, this belonging or not, and Gwenaëlle has always seemed so very unlike a wolf.
And yet, now, as his wolf breathes her in, he realizes a lot of things he didn't before.
Jude comes to the side with her good eye, circles once, then lays down in the grass next to her. He stretches out close enough to lean against. Faces the same direction. Lets her absorb the fact that he's there for a few seconds before he leans in.
He gives her a little lick. A soft swipe, a brief kiss of hello just across the tip of her nose.
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Eventually, though, she settles in enough that her instincts to pitch in assert themselves again. She's working on a pile of mending this evening, reattaching buttons and patching tears ably enough. She doesn't push it, especially with the locals, but she's always happy for conversation while she works if it's on hand. It's a different feel than the last world, for sure, but there's something pleasant about something so relatively calm and it puts her in a steadily good mood, for all they know this time that they won't be staying indefinitely.
first, a small
Finch is one of the smaller ones, even in hawk form, and they've just now worked up the courage to plunk themselves down next to Cosima and flash her a big smile, then get flustered and turn down to their work -- some granny squares -- before Cosima can properly greet them. They've got long hair and short nails with chipped black nail polish.
"Is it true you're from a whole 'nother world?" they ask.
adorable
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"What are the different parts?"
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And then another handful of days pass in which no one sees him at all.
But not difficult to locate. The presence of a large timber wolf exploring this territory is not subtle, and even if he does not range too close to the Den itself, his presence is probably more obtrusive than the man. Carcasses left in the brush, scent marks, and then, eventually, a minor scuffle between a furred scout that had gotten curious about this outsider carving his own small patch of territory within the larger one.
Nothing deadly, this clash, but perhaps notable, reported back that a somewhat misapplied moment of compulsion (an impolite request to be left alone) following some flashing fangs and warning bites signalled that this could be a problem.
There is a river that runs nearby, a wide and shallow stream of water that burbles over rocks and is the home to river fish and those that might dine on them. A wolf emerges from the brush, mud spattered, a confident trot in his pace. He keeps his head low as he dips his nose at the very surface of the water, drinking deeply.
He only pauses this action when a noise of something else nearby gains his attention, going still save for the swivel of one ear.
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To be fair, it's not one that Jude hadn't been ready for, hadn't brought up to Adrianna near-immediately in his meeting with her upon his return. Shifter instincts are overwhelming even for full-grown adults who have had a lifetime of practice with their animal, and any of them can be dangerous.
Jude has brought a band of what amounts to psychic toddlers carrying flamethrowers into his pack's territory.
Like it or not, the members of Riftwatch are his responsibility, and he knew what it would entail. But it doesn't mean he enjoys it.
Somehow, it doesn't surprise him that Marcus is the first one he hears about. He can practically feel the dominance simmering around the man even in his human form. It's no wonder that he goes a little sideways, drunk on instinct. For the first few days, Jude is content to watch, biding his time.
But when Leif comes back all scuffed up with his tail between his legs, Jude knows it's time.
Jude comes with a pocket full of jerky snacks, two peanut butter cookies in a plastic bag, a bottle of water and a bag with some spare clothes. When he hits the makeshift border of Marcus' slapdash little territory he feels it shiver over his bones, but pushes through without hurting himself.
He is at home with the implicit danger. The tearing, hurting push of Marcus' dominance find no purchase in Jude's soul. This was his job, long before Thedas.
Jude approaches with his hands in his pockets, barefoot and in a loose sweater and comfortable pants. It's cold.
"Hey, Marcus," he says, lifting one hand to greet him, hooking his thumb in the bag at his shoulder.
"My guy, you cannot be beating on our scouts."
He very much doesn't expect Marcus to be lucid enough to hold a conversation about this, but it's nice to be able to establish a baseline.
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Water and saliva both trickle from his muzzle as he lifts his head, deathly serious as he locks focus on the man emerging onto the riverbank. Fur, muddled grey and brown, hackling over high shoulderblades, body moving so as to face Jude more squarely. It is, as predicted, the first indication that the wolf has moved to the forefront and taken control in its yellow fangs, slowly simmering hostility in response to such an affable greeting.
The words mean something. Language still translates, sinking through, even if he has no words in response. Ears pin back at what is easily interpretable as a challenge, the suggestion of what he cannot do, what it means if he continued.
The snap into the air is a warning, protruding fangs, wet snarl, and with it, the invisible push of will that he would expect to drive Jude backwards. The attempt, anyway.
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Marcus pushes out with his dominance, and Jude feels it around him, crackling and crashing like thunder, warning and ward. He's strong. It's no wonder he's Danny Phantoming it.
Sucks.
So Jude lets the dominance pass harmlessly through him, big and loud and without the bite that by all rights should accompany it, and leans on his sentinel.
Where Marcus might be a storm, Jude's an undertow. A deep leviathan passing far below, churning the current of the world around them. It doesn't push, doesn't drown, but it could.
"This land isn't yours, Marcus," Jude says, his voice a low register. His irises haven't changed. They're still the same warm human brown. "It belongs to the Yellowstone pack. You could be a part of that, if you wanted. But you don't get to keep it from us."
There's nothing of anger or threat there. But he does refuse to move.
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cw: body horror/injury
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give me The Boy
One kid lingers, though. He doesn't belong to one of the gangs, even seems like a bit of a loner, there every so often in her peripheral, a blurry little floater in the corner of her eye. She notices him, even if he thinks she doesn't.
By the third day past their arrival it's starting to get ridiculous. Abby doesn't want to yell at him or anything, she just wants to answer whatever question he's been working on this whole time, anything to get him to go away. She raises her voice to him as she crosses the Den with a load of old blankets hefted in her arms. "Hey, you."
Yeah, you! The kid who just pretended he didn't hear her calling out. "You gonna help me with this or what?"
It's fine. Really, the load of blankets is totally fine for her to carry alone, but god damn. She's breaking the ice by fucking force here, okay.
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Abby doesn't look mean, precisely, but she's obviously big and strong, and even if he's not a wolf, he's got it in his blood. Reilly can feel the way the dominance kinda sparkles all around her. Most people are somewhere in the middle of the road, if they're not an alpha or a beta. But man, she's up there.
But she doesn't act like any of the dominants he knows. Heck, the person she reminds him of most is probably Hayden, his own beloved, goofy, soft alpha. The one who whines about dish duty but also does the very most, and lets the smallest of pups boss him, who teases without being mean.
Reilly freezes as Abby-the-newcomer-alien-wolf turns her eyes on him, caught, and stares at her with wide eyes as he runs some quick calculations. His first step is hesitant, but then he catches up, gingerly lifting one side of the blankets to better balance them.
"Sorry," he says automatically, his voice a little small. He doesn't sound scared, to exactly, just a little intimidated, unsure of how he's supposed to act.
He keeps quiet for all of a few seconds before he says, shyly:
"I was trying to think about how to talk to you. But I didn't want to make it weird. Sometimes when people are new, they need their space, and they should be allowed to talk when they're ready."
It has the air of something an adult has thoughtfully told him.
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Finally, the kid speaks. Abby eyes him for a moment. Like she thought he's pretty shy, peeking up at her from around the blankets. He's older than she thought he was at first glance now that he's up closer, and she can actually see his face through that mop of hair. He's probably Lev's age, or close to it.
... God. What the fuck is she doing.
"Watching me and not saying anything is weird," she tells him, but not unkindly. Just telling it like it is. "I don't mind if you wanna talk. I'm Abby."
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"I'm Reilly," he says softly, all huge dark eyes and the beginnings of a smile. Okay, so she's nicer than he thought. Even if she doesn't do the nice-smile thing like most adults do, doesn't gentle her voice, she's blunt and honest.
The honesty is what has him laughing under his breath, loosening up as he amends his impression of her.
"Yeah, guess so." Reilly tilts his head at her curiously, his hair falling in his eyes. He needs a haircut.
"Um- Jude says that you're all just visiting for a little while. And that you weren't shifters before you came here." He doesn't ask is it true, because Jude doesn't do that thing where he lies to kids. But it's hard to take it literally.
"Where you're from, is it all just humans? Or are there like... dragons and wizards?"
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taps twice,
Her russet coat is already caked with mud. She's slipped over a few times in the training grounds, and outside, rankling at any stranger who tries to come near her. Too embarrassed. Too bad at being an actual wolf.
If she can't work this out, she's decided she's shifting back and staying that way. She can help out with other things she doesn't need to be a wolf fighter or whatever, even though it's so cool and that's absolutely what she wants to be.
Re: taps twice,
During a break he shows up, mouthing once at her muzzle affectionately, then leaning his shoulder against her and staying there, sniffing her like he's checking her over. He can feel her hurts, her discontent.
Jude rumbles gently, as he has in the past when he's comforted her in wolf form, back when Abby had only hands. Then he eases away, gives a swish of his tail, looks back at her.
It's not like words, not really. The wolf language is all postures, body language, emotion. Simple ideas.
Follow me, his eyes say, and he starts off towards the icy river at a gentle trot.
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So, she yips, and follows him. Running is good. She likes running. She wants to break loose out of the den, which is overwhelming, and go off on her own, but she doesn't mind following him.
The cold air is a welcome break. The temperature doesn't bother Abby, who immediately takes charge of where they're headed by coming up ahead of Jude, and pointing her nose into the wind. Letting her curiousity lead more than anything else, winding her way along the bank of the river.
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Fine, lead us. Bossy pup.
And then they run, full out. Enough to work their lungs, stretch their legs.
The speed's incredible, compared to when they're on two legs.
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It isn't, or at least, it isn't any louder here among the pack than normal. Mobius pads up to Jude, arms tucked inside the ridiculously large and cozy sweater he's been provided. Nudges his head up under Jude's chin, a move that the wolf has bid him do without even a second thought. Being near to Jude gives a sense of soothing, and he's never understood it more than being touched with the ability himself.
And that's part of the problem. He frowns at himself and pulls back, taking a breath.
"I don't know that that's the right word, loud."
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Jude easily slings his arm around Mobius' shoulders, drawing him in to hold him against his chest, chin in his hair. It's interesting to see who fights it, and who leans into the wolf that's stretched out inside them, all instinct.
It's them, at their innermost soul, wrapped up in instinct. Of course Mobius is affectionate.
"Some people think of it as sound. For some it's like ocean currents. For some it's like bright lights. You've grown another sense. It follows that you would try to reckon it through the senses you're used to."
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Well. He does know. It's called having it from birth and learning to live with it. It can still astonish him, though.
"Sometimes I can't hear myself think. It's distracting. It's overwhelming." He shakes his head a little. "And it isn't mine. It's not supposed to be mine."
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"Part of it's differentiating between yourself and the others, then shielding it out. You want to be able to see it if you need to, but not be swept away."
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