faderift | player plot | when my time comes around, pt. 5

WHO: Everyone!
WHAT: Everything's fine and we're going to have feelings about it.
WHEN: August 15 9:49
WHERE: Primarily the Gallows! But potentially anywhere.
NOTES: We made it! You are all free of my tyrannical plot grasp! There is a final OOC post with some notes + space for plotting here.

This is a timeline where, some mild chaos aside, things for the last month have carried on as normal. Riftwatch hasn't lost anyone at all. There were no funerals. The work continued. The late afternoon of August 15 may find people at their desks, in the midst of meetings or debriefs, in the library, in the sparring yard. Or maybe afield, seeing to errands or meetings or missions somewhere else in Thedas. Maybe, if they are particularly unlucky, they are deep in conversation with an ally or embroiled in combat with an enemy agent at the precise moment when the magical connection between two realities closes and the diverging timelines snap together into one existence.

At that moment, everyone forgets what it is they were just doing. Instead they remember what they might have been doing in the world where a third of Riftwatch's number was lost, despite their hands suddenly occupied with the normal business of handling pens or swords or books they don't recall picking up.

For the always-living, it may feel as though they have been magically transported somewhere new mid-thought. For the dead—the formerly dead, the might-have-been dead—it will feel as though they have just woken up. Perhaps they'll have a vague sense of a dream they now can't recall, in between their last conscious moment amid the blood and screams in Granitefell and awakening just now in a quieter world, or perhaps they'll have a sense of nothing at all.

For a few hours, the worse world will be the only one anyone can remember. Over time, memories of the other world—the only one that really exists now—will filter in, competitive with other memories in a way that might require everyone to double or triple check whether they wrote a letter or completed a mission in that timeline or this one. But the memories of death and dying will never fade into anything less real.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"A nerd with a point," Ellie says, raising her eyebrows. Sorry Clarisse, there's two of them.

"Ten coins for insults. Obviously."

She'll insult people for free.

"Ten coins for insults," she says, hot on the heels of Ellie, "Is that even a real question?"

Give her ten gold. Right now,

"Oh, we got a couple badasses over here," Clarisse says, putting on a ridiculous voice. "You guys got the easy question."

She knows they'll ask, so she doesn't let either of them say anything before continuing: "Would you rather have Cotton Eye Joe blast at high volume every time you have an orgasm, orrrr never be able to have an orgasm again."

"You're the one who gave us the easy question," Ellie protests, reaching out to put her socked foot against Clarisse's thigh and give her a push. She hasn't yet laid down with her, still kinda awkwardly hovering with half her ass on the desk, but she's getting there.

"And obviously Cotton Eyed Joe. Sorry, Clarisse."

"Oh my god," Abby splutters, chuckling, "You suck." This question. She shakes her head, frowns, says, "No Cotton Eyed Joe."

Come what may.

Or... not come. As the case may be.

"I wasn't sure you guys would know the song."

Meanwhile, Clarisse is giving Abby the most pitying look, trying not to laugh. She settles for a pffft sound with her lips and shakes her head.

"Don't be sorry," she adds, to Ellie. "I'd pick the same."

Ellie gives Clarisse a broad smile back. Yep. That's her girl.

"Man, you need to have better sex," Ellie mutters in Abby's direction.

Gross.

"It's not even about that. Everybody would know it was happening. Or think you were having sex to Cotton Eyed Joe."

How embarrassing.

"Yeah." That's why the choice sucks so much, Abby!

Clarisse shrugs a shoulder. "I'd just own it."

"Okay, but imagine if it were the whole Gallows. Any time you hear that song off in the distance..."

Torturing Abby with this is infinitely funny.

Abby makes a funny sound, cross between a chuckle and something truly dismayed.

"Yeah, that's why I'm choosing no. You have to respect my choice."

Clarisse snorts, rolling onto her side so she can look at Abby. "Like you guys respected my choice to never wear socks?" But there's affection in her voice.

Also, it was just Ellie who gave her shit about the socks, to be fair.

"Look, I'm just introducing factors that might effect your answer."

She's just ignoring that she's the one who gave her shit about the socks too, so.

"Uh huh. And that's why you two are together, because you're perfect for each other." (Derogatory.)

Clarisse narrows her eyes. "Don't be jealous, Abigail."

Instant spluttering—

Ellie's just gonna put her hands up innocently. She was not part of that, thanks.

"And Ellie offered to shove the beds together and everything."

Now she's part of it.

"Stop teasing me." It's both annoying and funny. "We're not pushing the beds together."

Ellie kicks her foot into the meat of Clarisse's thigh because what the fuck dude-

"Abby's busy spooning Wags."

"He needs me." Look, he's... fast asleep. He's snoring a little bit, he doesn't care.

"Ow, what the fuck." Clarisse gives Ellie an absolutely wounded look and rubs at her thigh before turning to look at the snoozing dog.

"Fine. I don't want to move the furniture anyway." She would have done it, but not now!

"Even if we did push the beds together," Ellie insists, "Wags and Clarisse would go in the middle."

Even if she's willing to sleep near Abby, she's definitely not ready to fucking spoon her. Even if she does feel a tiny bit guilty for kicking Clarisse now.

Nobody should ever feel guilty for kicking Clarisse, she deserves that shit.

"You guys can push your bed anywhere you want, but I'm leaving mine here. And I'm going to bed soon, I'm tired."

Actually, really tired. Abby kinda didn't notice it until she said it out loud.

"We don't need to push the beds together. I was kidding."

Clarisse is tired, too. It's evident in the somewhat sulky tone of her voice, even though she really doesn't care whether they push the beds together or not. They've all held it together so far, but... it's been a long day.

She covers her eyes with her forearm and yawns, but pats the spot next to her with her other hand. It's limited space, but she doesn't think Ellie will mind too much.

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notathreat - 2023-11-04 07:23 (UTC) - Expand