O2 ♚ I'M A LONG TIME TRAVELER HERE

[slaveking]

WHO: Character(s)
WHAT: Several Rifters and native drop-ins congregate at the Tavern as advertised via messenger crystal.
WHEN: Late January (forward-dated for recentmost app approvals!)
WHERE: The Tavern, private room
NOTES: OOC plotting here! Feel free to treat this like a general mingle log, but I will be making empty starters below for specific topics for group threads/conversation. An infodump/glossary link may also be pending from Araceli/Church.

It's past dinner time. This provides a reasonable excuse to drink only out of the ale pitchers set up for the expected guest, although there's a little bread and salt pork set up on the one bench along the wall. Dozens of chairs and a few less tables are loosely organized into groups. There's no dais or marked center for the room, the bar room version of the principles of the Arthurian round table, all being equal in the private room. Which, granted, is only as private as the public announcement and common courtesy might enforce. In other words, that can't be a real expectation.

However, the other Tavern workers are watching the door and main floor discreetly, multi-tasking with running the usual evening business. It's not so different from any other night, not even for the involuntary immigrants gathering on the second level. Drink, talk, and get to know.

Comments

ARRIVING THROUGH THE RIFT -Ariadne

[slaveking]

[demonicbeauty]

Ariadne had never been all that comfortable with public speaking. She held passionate to her beliefs and ideals, to be sure. She was just more comfortable playing behind the scenes. Which made sense, she supposed, given the fact that she was a spy.

So she'd let Marcel and the others take the lead.

Instead, she sat by the door. And as people entered, if they weren't busy, she gestured them over. she made herself look small, a harmless teenage girl who couldn't weigh more than ninety pounds soaking wet. Not a threat. "I'm just wondering...what were you doing when you fell through the Rift?"

If they could find some kind of logic to it, some sort of pattern, then just maybe they could stop it from happening to anyone else. The probabilities weren't spectacular, but there was always a chance.

[lennethvalkyrie]

Lenneth tilted her head curiously at the young woman, pausing where she was. That she'd done so in the middle of the doorway seemed not to concern her overmuch. Of similar concern were the grumbles from other patrons who had to twist to get by her.

"I was..." She searched for words that would make sense to someone not of her world, narrowing her eyes in irritation when she found very few. "Meditating," she settled on, finally. "Searching for the souls of those worthy to be chosen to fight in the war of the gods. Those who are both worthy and near their death call out to me during my..." she pursed her lips. "Meditation."

The Valkyrie had assumed that everyone had been chosen in a similar way--that the gods of this world had pulled needed warriors into Thedas. The wholly unassuming girl before her seemed to give that the lie; but then again, Lenneth was very used to looking for spirit, rather than its package.

"And you?"

[demonicbeauty]

Ariadne blinked her big gray eyes as the woman stopped to talk to her. Meditation was nothing strange and unfamiliar. Both the Elves and Darucs of home did it plenty. But searching for souls? Worthy to be chosen to fight in a war of the gods? That was far grander than the meditation she was familiar with.

It also made this woman an important person, so she whetted her lips, straightening her posture out slightly, as she did when speaking with the ladies and princesses of the court.

"That sounds like a very important duty, my lady," she said. "I'm afraid it doesn't hint to a pattern with my own experience. I was just dozing off."

FIGHTING THE WAR, WITH MARK OF THE RIFT -Jamie

[slaveking]

[wontforgetyou]

[When it comes to some of the conversations that the others are talking about, Jamie wouldn't even know where to start. Trying to figure out how they all got here in the first place? He has no idea, and even if they knew he's not all that sure that would make much difference at all. They're still here and that's not likely to change anytime soon. But when the conversation turns to talk about fighting the war, he winds up sitting up just a little bit straighter and paying more attention, waiting for a good place to interject - and when that comes he wastes no time with jumping on in, talking a bit before making his point.]

Now, look, all I'm saying is that so long as we're stuck here, why not help them fight? We can use the marks to close the rifts and get rid of the demons, and for all we know maybe if we get rid of enough of them that'll make some sort of difference.

[lennethvalkyrie]

[Lenneth nods firmly at his words. For all she knew, whatever force the Inquisition was combating was the force that kept them here. She wasn't yet ready to admit that their presence was some sort of cosmic coincidence. If she did that, she was certain she would go mad.]

There is little reason not to. After all, the best way to prove we are not an enemy is to offer aid--especially in times of war. Being willing to risk your life in battle in a war you have only a marginal stake in has a way of forming camaraderie quickly.

[wontforgetyou]

[Cosmic coincidences don't bother him nearly as much - not after the past few years for turning up in seemingly random places and winding up in the middle of things. That's more just life as he knows it. Usually it comes with a side of helping people, though, and as far as he's concerned this is a good way to do that. If it comes with some fighting, too? Well, that's just fine with him, and he gives Lenneth a nod in return.]

Aye, exactly. And we'll be able to help the people who need it. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure folks would feel a lot safer without having to worry about being torn in two by something that can appear right on top of you without warning.

[He could do without that himself, truthfully, but he's not afraid to face them when it comes to it, and he taps his mark with a finger.]

Maybe not everyone here's a warrior, but all of us can use these if we work together. Think it's worth doing, if you ask me.

SETTLING IN (SEEKING WORK, ETC.)

[slaveking]

[slaveking]

[Marcel has a tankard of ale near one hand, and a small square of bread by his other. Anybody who knows him might take a moment to admire his use of food as a prop to conceal his true nature, but fortunately, those people are few and far between. Right now, he looks like an ordinary citizen. Thedosian trousers and shirt, boots. The Mark of the Rift glowing on one palm, shoulders slightly slouched over a table. It's the kind of bad posture that somebody with extremely good posture tends to try on when they're just hanging out.

Casual vampire is casual.]

Tavern could probably take a few more people, [he says.] Not sure this is gonna be good for Rifter image overall if a lot of us end up here, but what the Hell. [His eyes crinkle a little.] It's gotta be the second oldest profession in any world.

[lennethvalkyrie]

[Using the tell-tale glimmer of the shard as a guide, Lenneth makes her way to Marcel's table and sits, nodding her head briefly in greeting. In rather stark contrast, she sits with the upright posture of a life-long soldier, and her clothes remain the same as the day she fell through the Rift--she cleans them faithfully. Sans armor in Skyhold, for the most part. Of course, she had the 'luck' of coming from a comparable time period.]

I assume you mean bartending, rather than being pulled violently through the planes. [She replied. Her tone is cool enough that It's very difficult to tell when the Valkyrie is joking. but for those used to listening for such things, there's a note of wryness to it.]

RIFTER PUBLIC IMAGE (HINT: IT'S BAD)

[slaveking]

Re: RIFTER PUBLIC IMAGE (HINT: IT'S BAD)

[lennethvalkyrie]

I did what I could, soon after arriving, to prove I was not the demon they thought. [Lenneth offered, lacing her fingers together around the outside of her tankard.] Two Knight-Commanders of the Templar Order performed their rites on me. Voluntarily. The pain was... exquisite. [Her lips thinned slightly, remembering.] Yet, I seemed to pass their tests to their satisfaction. At that time they made it known to me that no other Rifter would be made to undergo such tests. I still have the trust and acquaintance of Knight-Commander Sauveterre, and believe that he would speak to--at the very least--our not being demonic in nature.

[gatheringstorm]

"What." Korrin's eyes immediately narrow, as it's the first time she's heard about any of this. That the Templars would do such a thing, even wit permission from Lenneth, is far overstepping their bounds. "You said two. Who else?" It seems like the sort of thing Nerva would do as well, but if she remembers right, that particular Templar wasn't around yet.

[motherfucking_ghost]

Whoa whoa whoa. 'Performed their rites' is the sort of thing you should only hear at like...a church service or an exorcism. [He considers that for a second.] Which...I guess kinda the same thing, depending. I mean. Who else is gonna do an exorcism?

I mean my point is, like, what the fuck did they do to you? Okay, we fell out of a hole in the sky, that's bad, but I think I've had all of like...one or two people ever think I was a demon. [And...not for the fact of being a Rifter but shh.] Sure I get a couple dirty looks from people sometimes but, hey, that's not actually...strange. To me.

[foxsays]

I might have had a...disagreement, of sorts, with Knight-Commander Stannis when he was still with the Inquisition. [If they're discussing Templars, she might as well start there herself because while she wasn't expecting them to roll out the welcome wagon, the rather baseless accusation definitely stung. A glance is sent Korrin's way - of course she brought her native girlfriend along as requested - as she adds to the notes she already has with her.

Someone has to write this down and seeing as she's already been doing that, she might as well continue, writing quickly in shorthand for later.]

My own experience was more an accusation by a young man, I believe it is water under the bridge now but given how the statement was made publicly and all I've heard about the treatment of mages, with the marks we bear being magical, there are still likely to be those with less trust than we should like. The recent attack by the Abomination means we should still be paying attention to whatever they expect of the native mages.

[Or: you expect the worst and make absolutely certain you've prepared back-up plans and exit strategies. Or that's how a thief and a guard does it.]

[gatheringstorm]

Korrin arrives at the meeting, despite not being a Rifter. Mostly, she's just there to let moral support -and a qunari cushion- to Araceli, to whom she pays the bulk of her attention. But what the others say and do doesn't go unnoticed, and should any concerns overlap with that of the mage council, she'll speak up.

[slaveking]

There's a presence to Korrin's left, audible, not trying all too hard to be subtle or anything like that. The next moment, Marcel slings his tall frame into the chair next to hers, scraping the legs to give them a civil enough distance. "Are you Araceli's friend?" he asks. She might recognize his voice from the announcement, over the crystals. He's swarthy and dressed right; something about him might remind of pirates, if she's met the type before. But he's not from around here, and that much is evident from the mark on his hand and the subtle wrongness of his accent, his verbiage, even before he introduces himself.

"Marcel Gerard." He offers her a handshake.

GETTING HOME

[slaveking]

[apostasia]

Martel's attendance is not enthusiastic.

He received the invitation with all the others; considered declining it. More accurately, considered ignoring it entirely, but...he is stubborn, not a fool. At least not most of the time. And he isn't the kind of man who willfully renders himself ignorant of something that might affect him - while he has no desire to be associated with people whom he has nothing in common bar the method of their arrival, the fact remains that the method of their arrival is what defines them to many here. Working against it is uphill going and in the meantime, he can't afford to shut his eyes or close his ears.

Rifters, meeting. If they're going to do anything, he should know what it is. Optimistically, nothing he needs to concern himself with, but...

So he attends. He does not drink, nor talk, and certainly does not get to know.

But it's only when the conversation turns to the matter of leaving Thedas that he simply, quietly, leaves. It's been interesting. He's done.

going to assume martel is outfitted per his icon, pp me if not ok

[slaveking]

Marcel notices him, the tall white guy with the dark hair, the brush across his upper-lip that looks fashionable despite that nobody in Skyhold is concerned at all with fashion, really. Specifically, Marcel notices him start to leave, with timing precise to the content of conversation. The vampire tilts back in his chair, craning his head a little to look around the shoulders of those sitting at his table. Fortunately, most of them seem preoccupied by the conversation at hand. Particularly, the glaring lack of valid information or clear methodology to achieve what he means to do.

"Hey, black jacket." Surely this verbal tradition carries across worlds; marking people by the cut and color of their clothing when one does not happen to know their name. Marcel's voice is loud, difficult to ignore; promises to get even louder and more difficult to ignore if Martel tries.

"Did you want to stay?"

He scrapes his chair back, excusing himself from the immediate conversation with a gesture of one large hand. He doesn't get up, though, only so willing to try and bother somebody who lacks real interest in staying to be bothered. Nonetheless, there's nothing hesitant at all about the smile that spreads sharp white contrast across his face.

Natives sitting in!

[eolasemah]

[Sina is here. She's not saying anything but she's sitting attentively and smiling at the Rifters because most of them are nice and she likes them and wants to help if she can. Her shard glitters cheerfully along with theirs.]

info-sharing;

[foxsays]

[At some point after the proper introductions have been made, from within her coat pocket, Araceli produces a stack of notes to set on the table with no small amount of trepidation. Everyone learns things and she's not the only one of them to have spent time asking many questions nor the only one to have sat in the library for hours trying to get it to all make sense but still, there are a lot of notes.

A lot of notes, covering mostly the most pressing issues: magic and related topics (theories on the marks, the Fade, spirits and demons, mage politics) to nations and organisations, the various races, even the flora and fauna.

No names though she does have a separate set of notes just for that, all in shorthand after the fact, enough to make her aware of any potential bias.

If asked, she will admit to there being gaps, welcome to suggestions and to questions but it's all for her fellow rifters to help them perhaps feel a little less confused.]

[[ooc: the info post which will not be the final version (once I figure out how to best organise it into topics without confusing myself) and obviously she hasn't copied entire conversations verbatim but she'll have noted the key points to pass on to everyone else. Open to additions from other rifters and I'll stick them all in the comments of that post and to the finalised version once I figure it out.]]

[lennethvalkyrie]

[Lenneth looks at the notes with faint embarassment.]

I am afraid I cannot read the writing of this world, although I am attempting to learn.

[A beat, and then her eyes light up in sudden realization.]

Have you extra paper, and somewhat to write with? I had not considered that perhaps one of you might know the runes.

[foxsays]

Forgive me, I did not think!

[And now it occurs to her that though reading is something she was taught, that her fellow rifters might not know either.]

I do have more with me, I've come into the habit of making sure I have some with me at all times. [More for writing home recently but it's a good habit to have all the same.] Though if you wished to choose a time and place other than now, I promise to make time.