dreadinquisitor: (far)
dreadinquisitor ([personal profile] dreadinquisitor) wrote in [community profile] 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.
tevintage: (Leaning)

Dorian

[personal profile] tevintage 2015-05-27 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
[A- For Maxwell and whoever else is there]

That green light was so eerily familiar that for a moment Dorian forgot where he was. That light belonged to his Inquisitor. It didn't occur to him until he was sprinting toward it that if he had his magic back, the Inquisitors would have their marks.

That Lavellan wasn't the one holding his hand to the sky - an almost literal beacon - was a jarring realization. But not one he thought about for more than a second. After all, everything about this place had been jarring.

He wasn't being particularly careful. He was almost disappointed that he'd come out of the cornucopia unscathed - he hadn't even had a chance to show off his new found powers again. He also hadn't managed to grab anything of use - at least not for himself. The war hammer in his grip was much heavier than anything he was used to using. But he remembered Tabris telling him that she used them, so he brought it with him anyway.

When he got to the house he arched his neck up to see Maxwell. Not Adella, then. Though it could have been either of them.

At least the whole death game thing should make this a little less awkward than it might have been.

"Well this certainly feels like a homecoming," he drawled after he had slipped up next to the house, his voice carrying up to the roof but hopefully not much further. "I almost feel like we should go raid ourselves an empty castle, hm?"

[B - inside the house, for everyone]

Dorian leaned against the wall, arms crossed, wearing very little clothing save a gossamer loincloth, a sash from one shoulder to the other hip, a pair of brilliantly iridescent wings, and long laced sandals that ran up to his calf. He was surely the King of the Faeries, and he really didn't give a rat's ass about it. He made it look good.

Now if only it wasn't so fucking cold.

"Please tell me someone managed to find a decent pair of trousers, in the Cornucopia?" He said wryly. "Or, Maker's mercy, a jacket? I'll even settle for a pair of stockings."
Edited 2015-05-27 02:55 (UTC)
uncalled_for: (Temp 16)

B!

[personal profile] uncalled_for 2015-05-27 10:27 am (UTC)(link)
Fiona stood not terribly far from Dorian toward the center of the room. Her initial intention was to keep quiet, watch the others and just try to get through the day without bringing too much attention to herself. But with the man's sounded complaints she glanced his way, revising that decision to merely observe.

"We would have better luck finding firewood." Which was saying something, considering the state of drenched this entire region seemed to be in.
tevintage: (Leaning)

[personal profile] tevintage 2015-05-27 02:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Dorian sighed, heavy, with agreement. "I suppose I could go stand by the giant pyre in the square, if its still burning," he said wryly, "But somehow I think that it might not be particularly helpful."

He glanced over at her - she was still too young, but he was polite enough not to mention it. That people he knew came from different times was already well established - he just hadn't thought that it would be years different rather than a mere few months.

"However, I'll take nearly anything that has the potential to create warmth, at this particular moment."
tevintage: (Smile)

[personal profile] tevintage 2015-05-27 02:32 pm (UTC)(link)
"That's hardly new. And who knows - knowing you, you could take a few angry spirits and turn them into something helpful."

He reached back when Maxwell mentioned his wings, and tugged on them gently.

"My only complaint is that they aren't at all functional," he said wistfully. "I suppose they thought that would be altogether too helpful." He turned back, glancing at Maxwell's hand. "... then again. I suppose you already know about the magic."
tevintage: (sad face)

[personal profile] tevintage 2015-05-27 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
"Just dandy," Dorian said wryly, glancing up at the hanging beacon above his head. "Though I'm mildly curious what that is for."

He held up the warhammer. "I found a present for Tabris. She said she used these things, didn't she? I admit it is possibly the least useful piece of equipment I could have managed for myself, but at least someone else may find it of use."

He cocked his head, lowering the hammer.

"And while I'm glad you're not currently unconscious, are you sure you're alright?"
revocation: (082)

Cullen - Wiiiiiiiiiiiiiiide open

[personal profile] revocation 2015-05-29 02:15 am (UTC)(link)
Cullen isn't letting Adella out of his sight, no matter how dangerous it is for both of them. It's as simple as that. With her magic back, as usual, it's both a blessing and a curse, but that's no reason to leave her behind, or to abandon their overall plan for attempting unity. As far as he's concerned, there is still safety in numbers.

After the deaths are announced, he stares up at the sky with a faint frown on his face, arms crossed over his chest.

"Anyone still unaccounted for?" he asks into the air around him. At least they know what happened to Bull.
allyorfoe: (hey)

Tabris, OTA

[personal profile] allyorfoe 2015-05-29 02:42 am (UTC)(link)
Tabris slipped into the house, accompanied by the other two Wardens. She looks worse for the wear-- The dumb ass page costume was singed, and there was still a strange scar running up her leg that looked remarkably like lightning. She leaned on Alistair as they came into the house, though once they were in, she separated to let him mingle, should he choose to. She can lean against a wall.

Anders had managed to heal her, but Maker, her brain still felt stuffed with cotton.

"The Wardens are all here." She announced, rubbing her forehead. "And our powers are all functional. Am I the only one that saw the pyre? They're making a jab at us, aren't they? Did they construct this entire arena just to make us the butt of a joke? Look at these clothes. I'm writing a stern letter when we get back."
andrastian: (Default)

B!

[personal profile] andrastian 2015-05-29 02:45 am (UTC)(link)
"I would offer, but..." Sebastian had not fared much better, the dark blue trousers they'd stuffed him in were rather tattered, providing tantalizing views for the audience but not much in the way of warmth himself.

Besides this, there was a white scarf of sorts tied around his middle, holding up both the ripped trousers and Andraste's face, in lieu of a traditional belt, but nothing left on top. In spite of himself, and the moment, it WAS a little funny.

"Do you know, the only sailor I knew very well actually wore shirts but no pants. I was not under the impression that one had to choose until just recently."
andrastian: (Default)

Re: After the Death Announcements

[personal profile] andrastian 2015-05-29 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
"That depends on our intention as a group."

Sebastian had wanted no part in killing more than he had to, but that had been before the Cornocopia, before he'd smelled the blood around him and heard screams and been reminded of the most recent events of his life. It tended to drive a man's mind backwards a bit, and had him mulling over ideas that could give them a chance at getting to people before they got to them.

"Are we in this to survive and keep out of the way, or do we mean to try getting rid of our...competition?" He asked, the word and concept distasteful, still, but seeming a bit closer to necessary now.

"For our immediate protection here...has anyone experience with traps? They may at least keep out those we do not want coming in."
allyorfoe: (uhhh)

[personal profile] allyorfoe 2015-05-29 03:26 am (UTC)(link)
"Surviving." Tabris told him helpfully, rubbing the back of her neck. "That's my idea." She paused, then sighed, shaking her head. "Iunno if Cullen told me, but the Wardens and I are going to be, ah. Separated from you guys." She gave a little shrug. No need to get complicated on matters, right. "But we'll be close enough, if you guys need us, we'll come. So...I'm not sure what we'll be doing. Might check out the castle? We still need to find Bayard."
tevintage: (sad face)

[personal profile] tevintage 2015-05-29 04:13 am (UTC)(link)
Dorian looked up at his own, wondering at it, but even it was beginning to fade. He hadn't used any magic after all - just felt it rush through him in those first brilliant few moments it. He hadn't needed to actually pull on it yet. Not that he knew that was the source, of course. He looked back at Maxwell.

"Well, that's a small mercy." There was nothing to say about the lights until they knew what they were for. A trace of worry slipped into his expression. "Have you-- has anyone else come? I admit I grabbed what I could and ran before getting a good look at the aftermath of the cornucopia..."
tevintage: (Smile)

[personal profile] tevintage 2015-05-29 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
Dorian chuckled, glancing over at Sebastian.

"Perhaps you're meant to work for it," he said wryly. "I rather think we got the short end of the stick, as it were. I saw some dressed in full formal robes! Perhaps they mean for us to pillage the corpses for fabric."

He may be sarcastic, but he also thought that would entirely be a thing the game makers would intend for them to do.
allyorfoe: (lil smirk)

[personal profile] allyorfoe 2015-05-29 05:12 am (UTC)(link)
"I'd offer some of my clothes, Dorian, but I don't think they'd fit." Tabris wryly plucked at her stockings and stupid poofy pants. She'd ditch them and run about in nothing but her small clothes if she could--Maybe that would get the sponsor's attention. Dorian's legs, however, had nothing in common with Tabris', aside from both being used to stand. And her stockings were pretty deeply singed, to boot.

"...I'd even trade them," She adds, casting her eyes on that beautiful weapon of his--No, not that one. That war hammer was perfect, but she wouldn't ask for it. That'd be rude. But. Maker. Could he even lift it.

"At least you look pretty, Dorian. I'd swoon if I didn't have my husband here to remind me of my vows." At least he didn't have these dumb poofy shorts.
allyorfoe: (this sucks)

[personal profile] allyorfoe 2015-05-30 08:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yeah, I mean. A group our size is going to attract too much attention anyway. But there are also..." Her eyes drifted over to Anders, then flicked back to Maxwell. "Extenuating circumstances. It'd be best for everyone, I think." She shot him an apologetic look, reaching to pat his arm. "Not being around for you guys isn't my favorite thing, trust me. But I don't want...to make things weird." She shrugged. Didn't want to make things hostile. That's what the gamemakers wanted. And she wasn't going to give it to them.
unlikelyherald: (scrutinizing)

Adella OTA

[personal profile] unlikelyherald 2015-05-31 08:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Looking over who is gathered in the shelter that Maxwell found, Adella makes a few observations. She and Maxwell both have strange flames hovering over them, making their location obvious, as if the glowing hand didn't already give them away. She thought she'd seen them over Dorian earlier as well, though they seemed to be gone, now.

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.
andrastian: (default)

[personal profile] andrastian 2015-06-01 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)
"Well, I have been forced to loot before."

Sebastian shuddered at the thought, remembering how easily Hawke had carried lootings out. It had been better to go along with him when so many people turned out having just exactly what was needed on their persons. He wasn't pleased with it, but it had been what it was.

"Let's hope the corpses aren't diseased, if we have to go that route."

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