MOD PLOT ↠ HOME FOR RIFTMAS

[faderifting]

WHO: Everyone (more or less)
WHAT: Rifter Show & Tell & Steal.
WHEN: Early Wintermarch 9:49 (forward-dated!)
WHERE: The Crossroads and BEYOND.
NOTES: OOC post. Please use appropriate content warnings in your subject lines.

Since Corypheus began opening the Gates, Riftwatch has been noticing pockets of instability in the Crossroads—crumbling platforms, paths newly blocked by rubble or broken bridges, sections where gravity has been shifted and altered in ways unusual even for the Crossroads, with new intrusions of green-tinged rock outcroppings or corners of temple walls. The barriers between the Crossroads, the Fade, and the world are thinning. It's a problem.

But more recently, Riftwatch has been made aware of an ancient artifact known (now; one hopes this isn't its original title) as the Sealing Stone, now in pieces scattered throughout the Crossroads, and the approximate locations of those pieces. If brought together and activated, the Stone may stabilize the barrier between the Crossroads and the other realms and may provide a model Riftwatch could use to reinforce the Veil elsewhere.

So Riftwatch ventures into the Crossroads to retrieve the pieces of the Stone. It's an intensive effort undertaken by large teams, due to the many now-familiar hazards of the Crossroads, the potential for encountering the Venatori that also use the eluvian network, and the need to cover ground as quickly as possible in hopes of finding the artifacts before the Venatori notice the increased Crossroads activity and come join the hunt.

It's not as simple as merely locating the pieces, however. Whenever a group of Riftwatchers get near enough to one of the artifacts, they're alerted first by the triggering of a sort of protection mechanism. In some cases—specifically, on teams without any rifters—spirits suddenly swarm from the metaphorical woodwork in numbers so great and with such hostility that retreat is the only viable option. The spirits chase the teams only as far as necessary to push them away from the artifact's location, then mass into a circling shoal, guarding the spot until they're left alone long enough to decide the risk has passed.

But for groups containing at least one rifter, something with the mechanism goes wrong. Or right, arguably. Rather than being overwhelmed by spirits, they instead find themselves abruptly engulfed by what appears to be a rift, opening suddenly and rapidly large enough to swallow entire masses of people before contracting again to lie in wait like a carnivorous plant for anyone else who comes too close. Those caught in its radius tumble out into what appears to be a new and unfamiliar world–for most. For one or more of the rifters in each group, it will be perfectly familiar.

The first group to encounter this effect will be one including Tony Stark and Stephen Strange, and will drop them and their compatriots straight into midtown traffic. Any groups attempting to travel to the same spot in the Crossroads to investigate the apparent vanishing—whether they have rifters with them or not—will find themselves drawn through the same "rift" almost as soon as they get within sight of the place, before anything can be discerned about their lost fellows. They will likewise emerge into Stark & Strange's United States.

Subsequent groups including other rifters will be seemingly drawn into their companions' worlds by the same effect. In each, Riftwatch will have to navigate local hazards and retrieve a distinctive lyrium-etched artifact, at which point the world will dissolve around them like a dream and they will find themselves back in the Crossroads where they began, in possession of a carved chunk of stone glowing with lyrium runes.

1 ↠ MCU Earth-199999

Alternate-universe Earth, New York and Los Angeles, 2012-2025, Tony Stark & Stephen Strange.

Earth-199999 is very much like contemporary Earth as we know it, featuring the same historic events, same nations, same conventions. For the average person, there is no difference, except that they know magic and aliens and gods and superpowers are all real and have been causing problems for a while now, with NYC as the hub for most of the shenanigans. MCU Earth has also made leaps and bounds in all science fields as compared to real Earth, although these leaps and bounds are not widely accessible, primarily exclusive to private organisations like Stark Industries, mad scientists, and the likes of SHIELD, but can range from interactive three-dimensional holograms through to biotechnology that turns people into supersoldiers.

It's commonplace to see or hear about criminals causing havoc in the streets with superpowers or gadgets, and crime-fighting vigilantes trying to stop them. The Avengers, as the world's first superheroes, became widely-known commercialised celebrities in-universe with merchandise, documentaries, book deals, and memorial murals to the deceased Iron Man.

Special Abilities: Everyone is nerfed to regular human, unless you want a sudden onset of mutant powers. 1 individual themed ability per character; like pyrokinesis, superspeed, superstrength, etc.

Arrival: One main rift opens in the middle of New York City, ejecting our rifters into midtown traffic… except thanks to Strange’s own multiversal mishaps, people in this world will seem astonishingly accustomed to this sight! Bystanders will be startled, but then the rifters will likely be dogged by strangers snapping photos and videos and tweeting about their arrival.

The Fade-constructed timeline will be a little off: the old Avengers tower and its penthouse is still standing and still accessible to Tony, and Strange will also offer up the Sanctum as a sanctuary, and these will be the main mission hubs while the team gets their bearings and tries to locate the artifact. In the meantime: relax, take in the sights, maybe check out a Broadway show, wrangle your new superpowers.

A secondary rift also opens up on Hollywood Boulevard, in case people want to do some helplessly stranded on Earth RP. Tony can very easily find out this has happened and go collect them, with various degrees of efficiency according to what people want out of that OOCly. As this universe will be available to explore for a few IC weeks, people can assume some degree of Stark-provided financial freedom for basics (i.e. clothes and food, burner phones, etc), and they can stay in the Avengers tower and/or the Sanctum.

2 ↠ Shifterverse

Original alternate-universe Earth, Midwest US, 2022, Jude Adjei.

Real-world 2022, but what if Shifters?

Special Abilities: All superpowers are unfortunately nerfed. However, everyone's a Shifter now. Your choice of animal. Enjoy.

Arrival: Everyone will arrive in Yellowstone National Park, which is wholly staffed and operated by Jude's pack, but... not in an area where tourists are routinely and happily welcomed. Welcome to the deep woods and canyons and plains, where Jude's pack has built their den for some several hundred people. Characters will immediately be found by scouts in fur and feathers, who will be guarded and curious, but not hostile. The wolves and ravens will greet the interlopers as equals, and if they aren't offered any violence, they'll be treated as guests. Hundreds of pack members live in a mixture of hand-built cabin homes and meeting places, portable tiny houses and various shared spaces. There is wifi, a greenhouse, lots of tasty food and warm clothing to wear. If they stay several days and prove themselves trustworthy, they might even start to see children out and about, and there's nothing cuter than a toddler who can become a wolf pup at will. (Mind the raven toddlers and the bear cubs. They're less cute.)

3 ↠ Tassia

D&D Original World, Loxley & Richard Dickerson

Tassia is an original Dungeons&Dragons inspired world, a single continent divided into four nations that is otherwise completely isolated from any other possible world beyond it. These nations are Lloryndell, Sylvica, Ifrin, and Promias, and at its centre lies the Cruxal, a university-city of diverse cultural influence.

While Tassia resembles Thedas in its day-to-day technology levels, including its anachronisms, it is more heavily laden with fantastical elements. Along with humans, elves, and dwarves, there are goblins, dragonborn, tritons, tieflings, sentient robots, bird people, centaurs, and more (https://www.dndbeyond.com/races) (but no qunari). There are many different kinds of magic users who wield their powers openly. There are shops full of magic items, potions, and spell scrolls. There are monsters of countless kinds that lurk just about everywhere. Most cultures in the material plane are polytheistic and worship themed gods from the default D&D (Faerun) Pantheon. Some smaller cults and individuals worship ancient fey, fiendish, and eldritch beings who dwell on the outskirts of their respective planes and may provide power to the exceptionally loyal -- for a price.

Special Abilities: You can choose to be a normal depowered person, but you are equally encouraged to take on magical abilities, whether you're a mage or not. In brief, you can be a wizard, whose magic comes from spellbooks and knowledge, a sorcerer, who have innate magical abilities, a bard, who draws their magic from music, words, and performance, a warlock, who has made a pact with a powerful entity in exchange of magical ability, a druid, who draws their magic from nature, and a cleric, whose divine abilities are gifted to them by a deity. (Other classes have magic too, but it might be easier to pick one of these major ones if you are unfamiliar!)

Rather than overthinking it, we recommend you pick whatever sounds fun to flavour your magic with, and then browse magical spells using classes as a filter. (Eighth and ninth level are off limits, and it may be easier to limit yourself further due to how many spells there are.) Given the temporariness of these powers, don't worry too much about how many spells you get or how frequently you can do them, but know that higher level spells (anything above fifth) can only be cast one or twice a day.

Your character may be Tassia-ised, in terms of their race, but in a limited capacity. All humans will stay human, but elves may adopt D&D traits like seeing in the dark.

Arrival: Rifts will open in the streets of the Cruxal. People will be startled by the sudden appearance of rifters and stand offish, but otherwise: they've seen it all before! No one will be calling the guard on you, unless you decide to start something, so please don't. Or enjoy jail.

The Cruxal is a labyrinthian melting pot built up in concentric rings around a massive central university and library. Goblins scarper among humans, elves, and dwarves in the street. There are tusked half orcs and horned, scale-clad dragonborn mixed in among more familiar silhouettes. This is a university town, but while a large portion of the population are students, academics, and staff, it is also self-sustaining, with taverns, shops, temples, brothels, residences, and marketways.

The university itself is guarded and degrees of entry closely regulated due to the school’s extensive collection of dangerous artifacts -- one of which just so happens to have gone missing last night. News of the theft has been suppressed, but every temple, tavern, and brothel on the outskirts of town is abuzz with the rumor. The entire corridor, they say, was scorched black.

Loxley and Richard won't be too concerned about herding everyone but can provide some coin as needed for inn rooms and food. They appear to have a near bottomless stash, at least as far as living costs go.

4 ↠ Sulleciel

Original fantasy world, Petrana de Cedoux.

What if magic was real and holy emperors still kissed the ring in Rome, until someone beheaded the fucking pope? Welcome to Sulleciel, and specifically to Lamor City, capitol of Lamorre and the seat of the Lamorran empire, ruled over by Empereur Marius IX and his consort, Empress Petrana Solene. A nation and empire in the throes, still, of great upheaval — think Versailles or Orlais, but lurching ungainly out of its dark ages into a theoretically more enlightened time, control of which is being actively fought in the halls of power and at grassroots levels of social influence. Power vacuums abound, thanks to the fall of the church and the rise of a conqueror who is less interested in ruling than he was conquering; women are still the often-illiterate property of their fathers and husbands, but now there are more alternatives to family and marital homes, and dedicated studies of witchcraft are being encouraged, with pilot programs across the empire primarily in those early sanctuary cities, figuring out how this is all going to work. Known for her efforts to lean on the scales in the people's favour Petrana herself is, in this era, rumored to be imprisoned; graffiti of her crowned likeness can be found in some places in the city, with the epithet ""la reine du malheur"".

Special Abilities: In Sulleciel, magic is a skill that may be pursued like any other — and there are those of more or less talent, as if someone were to attempt the violin, or swordplay. It is practised primarily through incantations and foci, with more elaborate spellwork for more ambitious results sometimes requiring particular items or a full coven to achieve. As magic is limited in Sulleciel only by the will, imagination and stamina of those practising it, no one coming here will be subject to any nerfs; all mages and otherwise magical or powered individuals will be able to use their powers as they're used to using them. In addition to this, anyone who is as magical as a chair-leg ordinarily can feel free to have a go at Sulleciel's magic — it's up to you if they have a knack for it or not. Simple spells like casting a light or telekinesis of small objects can be mastered by toddlers; a powerful enough witch or coven might be able to summon a thunderstorm and alter weather patterns, but ""can"" and ""should"" are different and it's generally advised that you try not to do a climate change.
"
Arrival: The rift will open into a spacious, luxuriously-appointed tower on the grounds of the imperial palace but not visibly connected to it above-ground. It was at one point the sole domain of the previous arciduc's personal astronomers, but is now the primary residence and working space of the Queen's Coven. The Queen's Coven is a particular group of women, so named for having been among the first witches to come beneath the new regime's protection in the first city-state to bend the knee where Petrana was first installed as Queen Regent; they are private, secretive, and increasingly cut off from the power-struggles of the imperial court, having been actively distanced from the Empress herself by a variety of other players in the game. Both relatively prepared for sudden magical happenings and inclined to keep shit in the tower on lock, they will be prepared to pass you all off as "foreign witches, seeking our enlightenment" and see both you and the sudden access to Petrana as potentially useful in their maneuverings. Which will make moving around easier, but will probably be an active hindrance to getting where and what you need. An underground tunnel connects the tower directly to the palace, though there are also pleasant, covered pathways to walk across the palace grounds; guards at the main, above-ground entrance to the tower will inquire about movements to and from, and will be skeptical but limit their interference initially ... as long as they don't see Petrana.

5 ↠ Kalvad

Original fantasy world, Wysteria Poppell.

Kalvad—specifically the city of Somerset, the magic capitol of the civilized world—is a mashup of Regency Era and Industrial-Revolution-But-Magic! Nebulously England (with the serial numbers aggressively filed off). When in doubt, default to Jane Austen vibes. But if it seems fun to do some weird magic-powered technological advancements, then go nuts.

Kalvad is an imperial island nation ostensibly ruled by three kings, though they're largely figureheads overseeing an upper and lower parliament. The country has made itself rich and powerful by doing a whole lot of war and colonization. As historically one of the most magically powerful regions in the world, magicians have long been a vital tool in the empire's efforts to do both those things.

Unfortunately for Kalvad, the strength of magic in the world has waned considerably in the last 40 years. Where once Talent was rare but reasonably powerful, magic users are both becoming more commonplace and considerably weaker. Even older magicians and hedge-witches who once might have manufactured considerable arcane feats have seen some diminishing of their powers. A popular, but unproven, theory in academic circles is that those with Talent all draw from the same "well" of magic. As more people are born with the ability to tap into that resource, the less there is to go around. Resentment for those with weaker Talents among older generations of magic users is A Thing.

That said, increased availability of minor magics has kick-started a 'minor magic' powered industrial revolution. Parlor witches who perform small arcane conveniences are growing in number; minor charms and enchantments have become more readily available to lower classes. Meanwhile, the non-magical population is slowly being shunted out of their respective cottage industry jobs and into factories powered by great enchanted machines. The empire as the world knows it is clearly teetering on the brink of major social and political upheaval, both at home and abroad. The consequences of all this change just haven't quite played themselves out yet, though you can bet there are people rushing around in an attempt to cover their asses before they do.

Special Abilities Characters will be nerfed of any abilities they had in Thedas, but can be Talented in Kalvad terms or not. Any Talented character under 40 is likely to be able to produce only minor magics (think lighting fires in fireplaces, being able to heal minor injuries, and temporarily being able to enchant objects to do one specific thing). Anyone over forty can be a little flashier (think appearance altering glamors, temporary invisibility, transfiguration and significant healing). General magic flavor is: Brothers Grimm fairy tales and Arthurian legends, except that someone somewhere made all that weirdly pliable magic adhere to a strict ruleset. Easy, thoughtless channeling of magic is a secret lost long before the arcane powers in the world began to diminish. Now, all magic must be carefully and deliberately designed and constructed. The magicians most accomplished by Kalvadan standards are methodical and patient. Think clockmakers and mathematicians, not wizards on the side of a van.

Arrival: Members of Riftwatch will arrive through a rift and find themselves on the wooded outskirts of a sprawling city. Luckily, no one will witness their initial arrival. Even more convenient: once they've gotten their bearings and made their way into the city, they'll discover they aren't the only weird strangers in town (although they may want to strongly consider indulging in petty theft to make themselves stick out less—particularly as it comes time to infiltrate places). It seems that a sprawling months-long academic conference turned party turned cover for political intrigue and cold warfare has descended upon Somerset.

In the aftermath of what everyone is claiming to be a major military victory somewhere, delegations from a number of implicated countries have converged on the city at the invitation of the Kalvadan Crowns in order to share and demonstrate their various technical and arcane achievements. The World's Fair-like atmosphere has drawn a number of non-Talented tourists, scheming politicians, and cutthroat spies along with the legitimately academically and/or magically inclined.

While Somerset is something of a city of wonders by the world's estimation, it's still first and foremost a dirty and crowded industrial hub in a world that has yet to bother with paving all its major roads. The conference has quadrupled that effect, transforming it into a riot of sights, sound, and (often to its detriment) smells. At this point, finding a room and board in the city has become less a question of where you want to stay and more one of how many other people you're willing to timeshare a bed with.

Luckily, it doesn't seem like Riftwatch will be sticking around long. Some snooping around the of pamphleting/gossip will reveal that the artifact they're after is likely to be found in the grand exhibition hall, and that there will be an opportunity to get their hands on it that evening.

6 ↠ Abeir-Toril

D&D Forgotten Realms, Astarion

The D&D continent of Faerûn is loosely based on Eurasia—if it ran entirely on magic, was roughly stuck somewhere in the 14th century forever, and was filled to the brim with elves, dragons, gnolls, faeries, gods, demi-gods, and just about any myth (or mythological creature) you’ve ever encountered in your life. For the purpose of simplicity, everyone from Riftwatch is going to get plunked down in the titular Baldur’s Gate: the city is massive, it’s known as the jewel of Faerûn, and its cultures, districts, trades and pastimes reflect that remarkable splendor. Still, think of it like Kirkwall in that there are some pretty damn rigid socioeconomic divides separating the city via districts. QUICK GUIDE.

The Upper City is the fancy part of town where nobles (known as Patriar) and their servants live, and it also houses the city’s government and key recreational buildings. There are no bars, pubs, taverns or drinking halls. Anything rowdy happens behind closed doors, and if you don't have an invitation, you'd better look for fun somewhere else. Magical enchantments and lanterns make it beyond stunning at night to stroll through. Lower City is more varied: you’ll find taverns, shops, tons of entertainment and ample trade, as well as pirates by the docks (and their ships), and the harbor waters are absolutely gorgeous for sailing on calm days. Doors are shut and locked during nighttime hours aside from taverns, inns or gambling parlors. Visibility is also lower at night when harbor fog rolls in, particularly where poorer residents can't afford oil, tallow or magic every night. The Undercity stretches deep (and hidden) beneath both the Upper and Lower Cities: it begins at its most shallow within the city as sewers and along seawall cliffs as open-mouthed caves. The deeper you go, the worse it gets: undead catacombs, cultists, temples, blood sport and bloody magic prevail alongside monsters too dangerous to clear out. Outer City sucks. There's almost next to no law or order, and is inherently dangerous to explore. Treat it like Lowtown for the most part, and you'll be pretty smack on (slavers and actual kind impoverished poor included).

CULTURE: Baldur’s Gate is primarily run by humans, and to a lesser extent, elves. Other races aren’t really considered a foothold here, but they’re more than welcome in the city and treated exceptionally well with a few exceptions here and there (ogres, trolls, more ferally inclined goblins, etc). This is not at all like Thedas: someone more familiar with discrimination against non-humans, certain pairings and particularly mages wouldn't find it here. Most of the time if you dress nicely and carry yourself well, you’ll be well respected. Or robbed. Or both!

Special Abilities: Characters will be adjusted to fit D&D, and powers are optional for all. For D&D’s magic/power/race everything, please take a look at some basic classes.

Arrival: Characters will arrive via rifts torn into the Outer City, just along its riverfront sprawl. They won’t be too far from the city gates, but witnesses to the scene will be inclined to gossip and gawk, assuming everything from a freak magical incident to believing the new arrivals are wealthy travelers from somewhere far and exotic, who simply missed their mark in teleporting to the Upper City for sightseeing. Anyone wearing Thedosian clothes will be fine to go without changing— wearing something more modern or say, nothing at all for some reason, will definitely require staging some kind of Terminator II style clothing (theft) acquisition in order to fit in.

Ideally, the team will at least want to make their way into Lowtown in order to begin snooping around, but it’s a big damn city to say the least, and information is expensive. Astarion will help within reason, but being a vampire means that he can only afford to fund so much on his own.

Might be a good idea to do some fetch quests or live your best Adventuring Party life, because you’re all going to likely be here for a (time distorted) relative while.

7 ↠ Orphan Black

Alternate-Universe Earth, 2014; Toronto, Canada; Cosima Neihaus.

Real-world mid-2010s, but secret unethical biology/biotech experiments including viable human cloning in the mid 1980s. Carrying out such technologically advanced work is a combination of international organizations including a private research company, at least one paramilitary organization and a shadowy organization that oversees both. (Orphan Black also features minor differences from our world typical of its genre, such as plot-convenient hacking and variably competent law enforcement, but the cloning project and related scientific offshoots are the most salient differences.) Relevant to this plot in particular, the Dyad Institute is a private organization, considered ""fringe"" by the mainstream scientific community, devoted to research related to human evolution and biotechnology. Some of its many employees had connections to the ""neolutionism"" community, the members of which believed human evolution should be actively shaped by scientific and technological intervention. The organization was responsible for the project that created Cosima and her sisters roughly 30 years before in-world present day. Also at the moment they're jumping to, Cosima works there, it's complicated. (If anyone is familiar with the canon, we're jumping in circa season two.)
A tiny pinboard.

Special Abilities: None, you're all just unpowered humans. Sorry/you're welcome.

Arrival: The group arrives at what turns out to be a nondenominational winter party for a local school; there are some mild shenanigans as Cosima clocks that it's a school attended by children she knows, and more pressingly, partially overseen by their mother, who has Cosima's face. Cosima press gangs one or more other people into helping her hide her own face while negotiating with Alison to borrow her minivan. She shuttles the group to Alison's large suburban Toronto home, which becomes the FR group's base of operation. (It is perhaps telling that while Alison finds this frustrating, she and her husband Donnie do sort of roll with it also.) If desired/depending on how big the group is, Cosima could also stow some Riftwatchers with Felix, the foster brother of one of her other clones, who has a big artsy loft downtown. She is not against taking anyone to her place, but she's a grad student; it's not huge. Everyone who knows how to use a phone or can be trusted to figure it out with a tutorial gets a burner phone for convenience. (Perhaps additionally telling how quickly Alison gets everyone a burner phone. She also decorates the protective cases for them. No, it's not optional.)

8 ↠ The Last of Us

Post-Apocalyptic Earth, Spring 2038, Seattle, Abby Lasterson & Ellie Williams.

This world was ours until 2013, when a worldwide pandemic broke out overnight. A fungus (cordyceps) that had originally infected mainly insects adapted to infect human beings. Anyone bitten by an infected person or who has breathed in a significant or concentrated amount of fungal spores becomes infected themselves. Over a maximum of two days, they utterly lose their humanity and deteriorate into violent monsters, eventually sprouting spores and fungal plates. There is no known cure, and the only human being ever known to be immune is Ellie Williams. 25 or so years later, humanity has crumbled into various factions in a struggle to survive. First came the Federal (FEDRA) response, resulting in Quarantine Zones and martial law. Life in the zones is highly regulated, with work assignments and rations that often aren't enough to go around. Many citizens are forced to turn to crime just to make ends meet. Orphaned children become wards of the state and are trained to become FEDRA soldiers by the time they're sixteen.

Various civilian groups rose up to rebel against FEDRA, forming factions such as the Fireflies (rebels who recruited scientists in an effort to find a cure), and the Washington Liberation Front (a militia-minded organization who overthrew FEDRA in Seattle). There are other smaller groups such as the religious zealots called the Seraphites, or the violent slavers known as the Rattlers.

Few and far between are independent human settlements like Jackson of Wyoming, where small communities have managed to gain self-sufficiency and safety with tireless group effort and highly vigilant defenders. They bolster their numbers by welcoming peaceful outsiders and engaging in trade with travelers.

Living outside of these groups, people are largely on their own, vulnerable to packs of hunters, bandits and even cannibals that prey on anyone brave enough to risk travel.

The infected are an ever-present threat everywhere, and the world is a ruin quickly being reclaimed by nature. (cw: body horror in the link) See board for world aesthetic and depictions of the Infected.

Special Abilities: Everyone is a normal human here. No supernatural powers, no magic, no non-humans.

Arrival: Welcome one of Ellie and Abby's least favorite places: Seattle. The Space Needle is visible in the distance, so despite the advanced state of decay, it's actually recognizable. Except it's been bombed, and rotting, and nature's reclaimed it for the last quarter-century. This adventure won't be for the faint of heart; there are no home bases and no safe space to be had. All clothing, supplies, weaponry and food are things you'll need to find yourself. Everyone can assume they'll get a quick lesson in gun safety and a rundown on various types of infected. Multiple rifts will open, so feel free to appear anywhere in the city (even apart from others) but expect to find no native allies. The city of Seattle is embroiled in civil war between the Seraphites (a religious cult who rejects anything "old world" and scars their faces, called "Scars") and the Washington Liberation Front (a ruthless mercenary coalition, called "Wolves") and both sides will assume you're with the other group and attack on sight. Better pick up a brick.

Comments

[portalling]

“Alright,” Strange says.

He’s not gonna judge. Do no harm is a law that falls apart quickly at the application of any weight or pressure; his first kill had sickened him, had left him literally nauseous, but defending Earth had asked for more and more of it. Morality became tangled, grew complicated. He’s never had to level off his fingers after a human being bit them off, so who’s he to say anything about what Ellie had or hadn’t done?

“You told me what this place was like, but I didn’t really…” He tapers off a little. “It was a thought experiment in my world. It was fiction. What would you do in a zombie apocalypse, what sorts of skills would you have. I’m glad to see that mankind still ekes out some kind of existence when it does come to pass, though.”

He wants to say I’m sorry you grew up like this, but that feels distasteful; Strange is hyper-sensitive to pity, doesn’t want to dole it out himself. So he settles for saying something honest instead:

“If this is a shitty question, feel free to skip it, but are there still happy memories in this sort of place? Times when it’s peaceful and you don’t feel like you’re going to die any moment? Or is it mostly hell?”

[notathreat]

Strange isn't the only one hypersensitive to pity. Ellie stiffens, but just barely; she's told him before that this is just her normal.

Being back here sucks, though. Watching the people she cares about deal with it, be horrified by it, survive it and suffer through it. It just sucks. It brings it home in ways that hurt.

"There's a lot of hell," Ellie says quietly. "But there's beautiful stuff too."

For a second it seems like she might not go on, like that's all, but she looks down at her clasped hands, jogs her knee once before she answers.

"In Wyoming there's a little town called Jackson. It's attached to a dam that some of the locals got up and working, so they have electricity. Greenhouses. Farms. They have a little school, a daycare. A library. Everybody works hard. But when our work was done me and my friends used to light bonfires and hang out under the stars. Get a little high, play some poker. Sneak out the back gate and go sledding in the dark. And yeah the walls are high and there's patrols around the clock, I was part of them. When night fell the lights would come on and god, if you were coming home on horseback..."

Ellie trails off.

"When I was fourteen Joel and I stopped off in Salt Lake City. We were trying to get through one of the collapsed highways, and we came across a bunch of giraffes. Just... hanging out. Grazing on the leaves. Putting their faces into the high windows of wrecked buildings just to have a snack. They weren't afraid of us at all. Joel figured they're the descendants of some that escaped from a zoo or something back in the day, after the outbreak. But they weren't afraid of us at all. One actually let us get close enough to touch it.

"And the first time I left Boston, there was this whole hike we did through the woods in the summertime right after a big rainstorm. And at twilight all the fireflies came out. It felt like magic."

There's more, too. There's a farm homestead in the mountains surrounding Jackson, a little baby boy in a sun-dappled kitchen. But Ellie's not ready to talk about those particular ghosts.

"There's a lot of things about this world that are terrible, yeah. But that's not all it is."

[portalling]

Strange listens, and as Ellie’s stories unfurl, they tamp down some of that low-simmer panic he’s been biting back all day. His heartbeat slows and settles, and he lets himself ease into it and picture those scenes.

Idyllic, bucolic. Definitely beautiful. Not that frenetic energy of his own world; it’s something quieter, slowed down. Even in the burned-out ruins they’ve been slogging through, sometimes he finds himself caught aback by the flourishing thriving green and how lovely and vibrant and alive it looks, nature spreading and sprawling and reclaiming the cities. Heavy with vines, spreading weeds, grass, flowers. It reminds him of Earth-838, a city teeming with greenery instead of the concrete jungle he’d grown accustomed to.

“The night sky here is beautiful,” he says after a moment. “You might’ve noticed when we were in New York that the light pollution means you can’t see the stars at all. There’s just too many lights in the city. But the skies here are so clear. I haven’t seen stars like this since I was a kid— at least until Thedas, I mean. And I’ve been to space and I’ve stood on Mount Everest, but I’ve literally never in my life petted a giraffe. So you’ve got one up on me.”

The corners of his eyes are crinkling into a smile; faint and subtle, but it’s there.

[notathreat]

There's beauty everywhere, and the children of the apocalypse still find it effortlessly. Ellie was a little thing in a gutted mall, picking up Halloween masks to scare her best friend, hopping around rooftops like playgrounds. Her childhood games of hunting each other with waterguns had just... ended up meaning the difference between life and death more than once.

"It was the only thing that made me sad about New York," Ellie admits, stretching her legs out, taking her attention from the fires back to Stephen's face.

He's got a face made for more serious stuff, intense eyes, severe cheekbones. He looks both a wizard and a doctor. But when he smiles like this, he looks like- just some guy. A person, just trying to make it through.

"I'd give a couple more fingers to go to space," Ellie says with a laugh. "You're so lucky. Is the sunset as beautiful as they say?"

Ellie pauses. "Or was it, y'know. A work thing."

[portalling]

It helps, too, that Stephen’s wardrobe is now the most ragged it’s ever been: he’s not in medieval Theodosian attire or a crisp fresh set of midnight-blue robes in New York or wearing that dramatic scarlet cloak. He’s dressed in castoffs and whatever they could scavenge from Seattle stores, wearing a tourist hoodie over those tatters. It sands down his edges, makes him look less grandiose and bombastic; now he’s just any tired middle-aged man in an apocalyptic ruin.

Her telling pause, though, hits the nail on its head. His smile doesn’t fully fade, just turns rueful. “It was a work thing, so there wasn’t really much time to enjoy the view. I was kidnapped by an alien and carried off-planet. Tony and a guy in a spider-suit tagged along to rescue me.”

He skips the part about the torture.

Sometimes there’s an undercurrent of grief and a heavy burden on his shoulders when Strange talks about his past life; other times he purposefully leans into the absurdism of it, a way to balance out the horrors of what he’s heard from Ellie and what they’re surrounded by today. Dryly, he adds: “Do you ever stop and think that our lives are very weird? I’ve grown inured to it, but sometimes I stop and remember.”

[notathreat]

It occurs to Ellie that the "work thing" Stephen mentions here and the "work thing" Tony has mentioned to her are probably the same fucking work thing. Which makes it pretty horrific, actually, if she can trust her context clues on the matter.

She doesn't really blame Stephen for changing the subject. Even if she really wants to ask about the guy in the spider-suit.

So she smiles at him, some of the tired shadows around her eyes disappearing; her smile is very full of teeth.

"Sometimes. You'd think it would get old around the fifth or the sixth universe, or the tenth time you fight something fucking ridiculous, but... I dunno how I'd ever go back to sheep farming after all this shit."

No, she's actually not kidding.

[portalling]

It’s been a lot of universe-jumping in a relatively small timeframe, even for a man who had firsthand experience with this sort of thing. It’s been exhausting, running them ragged trying to keep up: some worlds have been more enjoyable than others, but for him, it’s felt like a slippery downhill slide ever since his own Earth. This one is a particular nadir, although he doesn’t want to say as much to Ellie.

There’s that small beat as her sentence sinks in, though, and it’s like he’s assessing the statement, trying to gauge whether or not that sounded like a joke. Strange blinks. Then:

“Wait, is that for real? Have you actually literally farmed sheep?”

[notathreat]

"Actually literally."

It sounds like a joke, but it isn't.

"Me and um- the girl I was with at the time. We had a farmhouse out in Wyoming. Kept a bunch of sheep, a couple of horses and some chickens. I mended up the fences around the land, and it did an okay job at keeping the infected out. She liked the idea of living out in the country."

[portalling]

“I grew up in the country. Hated it at the time,” Strange says, “but I’m starting to see the appeal. Especially here.”

Because he ached and yearned for a busy bustling city that never slept and which always kept him on his toes, a perpetual source of stimulation — he was terrible at sitting still — but the picture Ellie painted also sounded peaceful. And it would be away from the bombed-out carcasses of buildings and empty shells of cities, a perpetual reminder of what wasn’t.

He takes another sip of that water: tinny, briny. “How long were you there?”

[notathreat]

"I think it depends on where you're at. The country can be pretty fucking boring sometimes. But woods? Mountains? Valleys? Those are probably my favorites. The farm was a little flat space in all of that, in the Tetons."

Ellie considers him thoughtfully; she wouldn't have thought of him as a country boy, but she can see it. Him growing up longing for something different, something great. Strange doesn't strike her as someone content with simple peace. Maybe someday.

"... about a year and a half." She measures time by JJ's age back then, and briefly, something darker, sadder, passes through her eyes. He'll be walking, now. Running. Speaking in full sentences. Maybe even starting to ride the horses on his own.

"Then we uh, separated. She moved back to town. I ended up in another reality."

You know how it goes.

[portalling]

“Hey, it happens,” Strange concedes, the corner of his mouth flickering. He does know how it goes — in more ways than one — and so he offers his own, “I got chased by a demon out of my ex’s wedding.”

At which point something occurs to him: “That eyeball thing you helped kill, actually. When I first got to Thedas.”

It’s not the same as clickers and stalkers (they’re worse, he will forever maintain that they’re worse), but at least it’s a reminder that monsters had been a sort-of-everyday occurrence back home, too. Except that he’s out-of-sorts here, snipped out of the context of gleaming New York and that magical Sanctum; he even looks drabber, less vibrant. He looks tired.

[notathreat]

"Awkward," Ellie responds with a kind of cheerful sarcasm, raising her eyebrows. But she can see the connection for what it is, and appreciates it. Hey, another thing we have in common.

"Kind of a nuclear exit strategy, but happy to help," she adds, in a tone of casual needling. They're there now. Stephen can hang.

The joking passes, though, and Ellie finally fully sits down, leaning back against the crumbling wall.

"Your ex's wedding, though. That's rough."

[portalling]

“Eh,” Strange says, eloquently.

It’s hard to get comfortable on this lumpy couch cushion on the floor, the filling spilling out of it, but he readjusts. Shifts and fidgets a little. “You ever been in a social situation so awkward that you actually welcome the moment something attacks? It’s a nice distraction. Because you know what you’re supposed to do with an attacking eyeball. It’s very clear-cut.”

He doesn’t particularly want to dump his relationship issues on this Youth™, but considering how Ellie knows what it’s like to open your eyes and find yourself in another reality, several times over —

“Did you hear about the Blip, while we were in New York?” he asks, suddenly. “People vanishing out of existence for five years, then suddenly popping back. I was one of them. That was what made it strangest, I think. I blinked and half a decade had gone by. I remembered her as single, but that’s a whole long-term relationship in the interim. If she hadn’t moved on before, she certainly had by then.”

Multiversal struggles, am I right?

[notathreat]

"Oh, definitely."

Ellie pulls a face, thinking back to when she'd heard the stalkers with Abby. Thank fucking god she hadn't had to stumble through that one. She'd never been so grateful to run across an infected before.

With a sigh, she relaxes her shoulders, reaches down to knead at the sides of her knee -- she's only twenty-three and they already bother her at times.

"... yeah, I heard about it." It's a lot to wrap her head around, the idea of just. Being absent for that long. Five years is a long, long time, especially with relationships, or-

God. When she thinks of everything that's happened in the past five years...

"Fuck, though- at least. At least you were still friends?"

Is that better, or worse, though? Really?

[portalling]

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

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

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

[notathreat]

Ellie nods at him, encouraging -- and then rolls her lip over her teeth, thoughtful. Unsure of how to explain what she wants to say, but it's important anyway.

"I wasn't gonna say anything but- I'm pretty sure I met you, actually. Not in person, or I would have put it together faster. It was always over text. But there was a guy on the neural-link network with the name Stephen Strange. I was still really new and figuring out how stuff worked. I sent a... joke. Anonymously. Out onto the network. A pun. I don't remember what, but it was about birds."

Everything was about birds back there. It was weird.

"And he was the only one who talked to me for a while. It was late at night, and I didn't even attach my name. We both kept going until we ran out of bird puns."

Ellie pauses again, runs her tongue along her lower lip, turns back to him.

"... I wish I could remember more. I just remember he was always asking lots of questions. About everything, everyone. He seemed like he actually wanted to help people."

[portalling]

His face goes through a whole journey while Ellie talks.

First, surprise at the reveal — then a kind of mild self-conscious horror, an oh good lord, something like the unique discomfiture at finding out that someone else ran into your drunk brother at a party and now you’re desperately worried he might’ve made a bad impression and it’ll reflect poorly on you — but then it smooths over as she keeps going. His mouth settles into a rueful smile, relief unclenching his jaw.

“Oh thank god,” Strange says, “I was afraid you were going to say he went mad and tried to kill everyone.”

Which… was a concern, apparently?

He sounds remarkably blasé about the prospect of other Stranges in other universes, though, taking that revelation in stride. He’s already had months to grow accustomed to that knowledge. “Not every me is quite so benevolent, so I’m glad that one was. Validated to see that our persistent curiosity is a permanent feature, though.”

[notathreat]

Ellie learns a lot about him just by watching him react to this, and it would have been the takeaway even if he hadn't been good enough to explain out loud.

Mad and tried to kill everyone is a heavy thing to worry about in a you from somewhere else, though, and for the first time she wonders. There are surely universes where she took a different path. A much, much darker one.

Conversely, maybe she's the Ellie who took the darker path, and there's another her out there who settled on that sheep farm and never went to Seattle at all.

"Definitely there," she says with a wry smile. "So when you went to all these other alternate universes, you... went and found yourself in them? Shouldn't that break the space-time continuum or some shit like that?"

[portalling]

Time travel’s a headache, and yet Strange seems to light up a little, discussing it. He’d been the sacred keeper of the Time Stone for a few years; one couldn’t help but still be interested in the concept.

“With actual time travel within your own universe, yes, you want to avoid running into your past self or changing events. You don’t want to deviate from the path or you’re going to create new branches, paradoxes, split timelines, it’s a mess. With alternate universes, though—”

He’s straightened up, some of that professorial tone creeping back in, sounding more enthralled than weary and defeated. It’s an improvement. “Think of it like rifting in. You’re a visitor to that world. You’re not meant to be there. I sought out myself hoping that he could help me get back home again, or at least lend an assist in general,”

and he hadn’t found help for either,

“but it doesn’t contradict their own timeline. Because your own experiences aren’t theirs. You’re from somewhere entirely else. They might look like you, they might have remarkably similar histories, but you were never in the same world and your paths diverged at a certain point. Which gets into nature versus nurture shit, but you probably get the gist.”

[notathreat]

This of all things is probably someone's favorite thing. When she's asked just the right question, and she gets to see what someone's extremely into.

She's distracted utterly with watching him, feeling better by virtue of having her mind occupied from the universe-sized downer wrapped around their little group.

Ellie nods, fascinated. She's often wondered what would've become of her if certain things had gone just a little bit differently. Most are depressing to think about. Some of them keep her up at night, and others have her longing for what might have been.

"What's it like, then? Talking to yourself? Weird, or frustrating, or awesome?"

[portalling]

Strange doesn’t really know how to answer that particular question, and so his expression turns a little contemplative, weighing over the options, before he settles for a slightly comical pained look and: “Frankly? It turns out I’m an asshole. Which is also why I was worried about you meeting another one.”

He takes another sip of the water, more to have something to do with his hands. “So, probably ‘frustrating’. I’d expected… I don’t know, a colleague? An ally? We had to fight each other instead. So I’m trying to think of it like one of those morality stories: roads not taken, cautionary tales about what your worst self might become. Did you ever get to read A Christmas Carol? I’ve been approaching the situation like that. Try not to be an asshole. Try not to accidentally destroy the world. You know, normal stuff.”