[OPEN]

[bribon]

WHO: Cornelia + Desidério + YOU!
WHAT: Closing a rift in central Antiva goes awry.
WHEN: Early Fantasy!October
WHERE: Central Antiva, and then also the Gallows + Kirkwall + Wherever
NOTES: Rifts and rift-closing accessories; content warn in your subject lines as necessary.

Comments

[armd]

"Got it."

They walk the mattress carefully down the corridor. It sags in the middle. The rasping complaint of the old straw crinkling inside it is the only sound; at the end, Abby bears right. She dutifully helps the mattress make the turn, coaxing it around the corner with Desidério playing rudder at the other end. She adds, "You just get here?"

And already rearranging furniture? Bold strategy.

[bribon]

"This morning."

No one's chucked him out yet, anyway. And here is the aforementioned cupboard, slotted in off the stairwell. Desidério motions with a jerk of the chin—Steer past it—, and once he's made level with the door, briefly balances the sagging mattress in one fist so he might slap open the door. Viola.

"Seems the majority of you are old hats."

[armd]

Very good.

"It's gonna have to go diagonal—" so she takes more of its weight on her end just to tilt it, so that it will fit through the door frame properly. Threading a giant needle, easy. The mattress feels scratchy on her hands and the insides of her wrists where she's holding it. Bits of straw are poking through.

Admittedly, "You're our first new person we've had in a while. Hope you like attention and weird questions."

[bribon]

"Lucky me," he says, packing himself into the storage closet along with the mattress. He'll have to wrestle his way back past it to escape. "My two favorite things after scratchy sheets and windowless dungeons, and you have those here too."

It's looking up for Desidério Amanza!

Somewhere, many miles from here, there are people who know him quite well who are going to laugh themselves sick when they hear about this. But he has a few weeks before that news breaks, and presently may live with something like contentment knowing his disappearance will be considered an ominous threat to those same parties. There is nothing as unsettling as not having eyes on a bad dog.

[armd]

"Don't stop there," she jokes, as they ease the last bit of the mattress into the closet. Reaching out, she holds the door so he can squeeze back out again (unless he's comfortable in there, you never know). "In the summertime, we get flea infestations."

Welcome to Riftwatch.

[bribon]

He'll take the squeezing out the door back into the hallway over trapped forever in the storage cupboard, thank you.

"Oh good," he says, knocking his hands together. There's no dust to shake free, really, but the sentiment stands. Good. Done with step one of clearing the extraneous bullshit from that dour little room. "Something to look forward to."