dreadinquisitor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dreadinquisitor) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2015-05-26 01:25 pm
dreadinquisitor) wrote in thearena2015-05-26 01:25 pm
Mountains are crumbling like statues of clay.
Who| The Thedosians & Friends
What| Reuniting and Planning
Where| In the area of the Cornucopia
When| Late evening/night, the first night
Warnings/Notes| Open to all Thedosians and allies who are interested in reuniting post-Cornucopia and plotting out next moves together. This will function like the War Room posts in the Capitol: tag Maxwell, enter into the "planning" catch-all starter, or talk amongst yourselves! If you'd rather your character remain separate, feel free to say they missed this!
Maxwell convinced Shepard to wait until the sun began to sink before he made his move. It had been hours since they'd tucked themselves into the little, bowed house at the edge of the village. Longer still since the troll-child, Karkat, had passed.
The sounds of the blood-bath at the makeshift Cornucopia had faded and died, and an eery hush had fallen, broken only rarely by speech. Far more often it was the house, creaking and groaning around them, squeaking beneath them as they moved about, spending the last of their adrenaline and rage and worry in pacing and checking the ramshackle rooms for anything that might be of use.
There wasn't much. A dirty, chipped cup. A few rusted utensils. A straw-hewn bed, torn full of holes by rodents and an old blanket, still wet green with mold in the folds of the fabric. But without knowing how the Cornucopia went for the others, it was difficult to pass up anything.
Piling it together, they'd waited. Then, finally, Maxwell moved.
As the sky had began to shift from ashen grey, to steel, and then slowly to coal, he clambered onto the sill of one of the open windows and hauled himself as carefully as he could up onto the roof. The wood complained and sank threatening beneath his boots, but it held.
He'd wrapped the silly little cap Jolie had given him around the Anchor to try and disguise it, but he unwrapped it then. The others from the Inquisition would know it for what it was, he was certain, and hopefully the rest would have heard enough about it or were with someone who had.
Holding up his arm, he opened his hand and the ghostly green light spilled free.
What| Reuniting and Planning
Where| In the area of the Cornucopia
When| Late evening/night, the first night
Warnings/Notes| Open to all Thedosians and allies who are interested in reuniting post-Cornucopia and plotting out next moves together. This will function like the War Room posts in the Capitol: tag Maxwell, enter into the "planning" catch-all starter, or talk amongst yourselves! If you'd rather your character remain separate, feel free to say they missed this!
Maxwell convinced Shepard to wait until the sun began to sink before he made his move. It had been hours since they'd tucked themselves into the little, bowed house at the edge of the village. Longer still since the troll-child, Karkat, had passed.
The sounds of the blood-bath at the makeshift Cornucopia had faded and died, and an eery hush had fallen, broken only rarely by speech. Far more often it was the house, creaking and groaning around them, squeaking beneath them as they moved about, spending the last of their adrenaline and rage and worry in pacing and checking the ramshackle rooms for anything that might be of use.
There wasn't much. A dirty, chipped cup. A few rusted utensils. A straw-hewn bed, torn full of holes by rodents and an old blanket, still wet green with mold in the folds of the fabric. But without knowing how the Cornucopia went for the others, it was difficult to pass up anything.
Piling it together, they'd waited. Then, finally, Maxwell moved.
As the sky had began to shift from ashen grey, to steel, and then slowly to coal, he clambered onto the sill of one of the open windows and hauled himself as carefully as he could up onto the roof. The wood complained and sank threatening beneath his boots, but it held.
He'd wrapped the silly little cap Jolie had given him around the Anchor to try and disguise it, but he unwrapped it then. The others from the Inquisition would know it for what it was, he was certain, and hopefully the rest would have heard enough about it or were with someone who had.
Holding up his arm, he opened his hand and the ghostly green light spilled free.
Adella OTA
She'd also noticed when they'd been watching the sky two persistent glowing marks, hovering above them, as well as others far off. She steps outside into the evening while the others talk, looking up at the sky again, and noting the location of their bright little dots, silently counting the others. She hadn't realized how many people had power, before.
"They're making us easier to hunt," she murmurs softly to herself, squinting her eyes up at the sky.
no subject
The talk had descended into debate and seeing Adella slip out, Maxwell had followed after. On the other side of the doorway, he leaned back against the rotted wall, arms folding across his chest.
Unlike many of the others, he had a shirt, but the fabric was thin and deeply veed and offered little more than skin in the way of warmth against the rapidly cooling night.
"We may not know why they are, but what they are seems apparent."
no subject
"I would think those who don't have power would be fools to try to attack us, but it's obviously not that simple. They want them attacking us." Which meant that there was a catch, somewhere. She had yet to use her powers in an offensive manner, but she knew that sooner or later, she would have to.
no subject
He paused a moment, then looked over at Adella.
"You've heard that Tabris and the other Wardens intend to leave?"
no subject
"Magic barriers might not stop those things, either. I suppose it's a thought." Although it wouldn't quite fit in with the reality presented to them. Their current surroundings were almost like the sad little buildings that had been submerged in old Crestwood.
At the mention of the Wardens, Adella nodded, her lips pressed thin. "I figured as much. It... might be better for us to split up. Especially with some of us pointing out to the rest of the Arena where we are, precisely." She hadn't voiced it aloud, mostly because she knew Cullen would immediately object. But she can't help but worry that she might be putting him at risk, now.
no subject
"I thought the same when she told me," he replied. "...She made me promise not to go off alone, but I don't want to cause any more harm."
no subject
"You're right," They're recording this, you might want to remember to get a copy, sometime. The pause was thoughtful, remembering the cornucopia, the bolts from above that Shepard had been half-sure were the result of some tribute, "They're attacking us, too. Bolts from the blue-- putting us at a disadvantage. Shit."
no subject
"It isn't usually like this right at the start, is it?" She hadn't been there for the beginning of the last Arena, she wouldn't know if this was the norm or not. It didn't seem normal to her, but none of it was, really.
Wow sorry, I lost this notif somehow