therookery | o1 ♚ especially coffee

FORM: Sending crystal
SENDER: Marcel Gerard
RECIPIENT: Public; any and all interested
WHAT: A Rifter would like to futilely inquire as to the incomprehensible physics of Rifting and seek actually unavailable instruction w.r.t. how to get the Hell back home, please and thanks.
WHEN: Timing (backdated, covering a span, etc.)
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: Maybe P3-13 for language? If somebody gets emotional!

Good morning, Thedas.

[By now, the name of the world sounds comfortable enough in his mouth, but his accent is likely remains somewhat Other, cutting the consonants of his deep voice.] My name is Marcel Gerard. In the world I come from, magic is a secret pretty well-hidden from humans, and the full strength of abominations waits every month on the full moon. [Sorry, werewolves. Somebody hates you.] We also have horseless carriages, ballet, instant coffee, and the Internet. The world is called New Orleans. If you know what any of that means, we should talk.

And if you don't, you might be just the person to help me get home. You got thoughts on how to prolapse a Rift? I want to hear 'em. Talk to me.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Man.

Unfortunately, that does sound just like home. Sad to hear some things haven't changed. Tell me we at least ended hunger.

Uhhhh, I don't actually know. Kind of more focused on the alien space war part. Things have been pretty rough, though. Cuz. Y'know. War.

[A beat.]

Is there probing?

What? Ew, don't be gross, dude. There's killing.

...Okay, so my friend maybe ended up with an alien baby in him. So. It's, uh. It's not all killing. Sometimes it's prophecies and alien babies.

[A beat.

Multiple beats. A long moment where Marcel is definitely waiting for the guy to inform him he's being punk'd. No? No such luck.]

I've decided I'm happy in the early 2000s. When did you say this shit starts?

Okay, I didn't believe it, either, because our doc's kind of...not exactly a doctor. But it turns out this little fuckin' demonspawn actually happened.

I think it blew up in the ship he got kidnapped on...so, y'know, good riddance.

Early 21st, huh? How's that treating you, what with all the global warming and geopolitical strife and reality tv?

Eh. [Those are all worthy 21st century concerns, really. Marcel appreciates the guy's understanding of relevant issues.] Less of a big deal than our own magic problems. Witch wars, you might as well call 'em.

Hey. What's your name? [He doesn't think he got it earlier.]

Oh jesus christ. More magic? Are you shitting me right now? I can barely even deal with all the so-called "magic" here in this...high fantasy wonderland. Are you seriously a wizard?

Uh, Church. It's Church, by the way.

I am a little bit of a wizard, [Marcel lies without much concern. He's magical in origin for sure.] Not gonna be enchanting a hundred broomsticks out of a big book of spells anytime soon though.

Nice to meet you, Church. How's no running water or food that comes compressed into pills, or whatever you got when you're from?

If only you could magic us up some guns, Mr. Wizard.

Dude. You should see the fucking fatass they got in my other camp. [Or 'the enemy base' but come on, are the Reds really their enemy anymore?] I'm pretty sure he eats nothing but oreos. Don't ask me where he gets them from! I mean, I guess things could be better, but... [There is a heavily implied shrug.] I dunno, if you want my list of complaints then we'll be here all day, but I guess it's also different when that life is more or less all you know. Time travel, man, I do not wanna fuck around with that again.

[Marcel hmms.] Can't say that shit is in the scope of my abilities, [he admits. Not that he has much use for firearms, as a general rule.] And I'd probably opt for Oreos before that.

You been enlisted to help some dwarves create any new tech yet?

...Uh no, I can't say that any dwarves have said much of anything to me. Do they have gunpowder? We can fucking start from there anyway...

Huh. Not sure.

I should ask about that. Hey. [A shift in his tone. A shift of topic.] If I was gonna start setting up a time and place for Rifters to meet, you think you'd show? Trade information, shit like that. About gunpowder, for instance.

Hell yeah! I don't even know how many of us there are around here, and even if we're all from weird places or weird times or both, we're all kinda dumped here with no god damn say-so or idea what's going on. It'd be nice. Get everyone's shit in order.

Excellent. Excellent. [Marcel sounds satisfied instead of hopeful, a symptom of his ego.] I'm looking into it bright and early tomorrow. Seems like we have a few, anyhow.

I'll be sure to set my alarm clock. [Oh so much sarcasm you can feel it.] Do people have like...those time dial...pedestal things or do they just say 'hey when the sun's about over here but it's okay if you're late by a few degrees'?

I'd guess it was a sun dial or something like that, yeah, [Marcel says.] Mostly people seem to go by sunrise and sunset. Guess that's gonna be something I figure out in time for the get-together too. [There's an undercurrent of laughter in his voice, but with an exasperated tinge that seconds Church's.]

Either way, I'm looking forward to it. I'm just starting to get annoyed with people assuming I understand the politics of literally anything around here until I say I fell face-first out of a hole in the sky.

Funny, right? [Marcel sounds wry too.] Back home, we had plenty of Americans who don't know Britain has a Prime Minister. I'll let you know when it happens.

Hey. How are you for work?

Uhhh, well, I mean, aside from occasionally lending a hand to fix broken shit up when someone needs muscle or something, work isn't exactly something I'm actively doing. [It's also something he's not necessarily actively pursuing.] I'm not exactly part of the Inquisition. Just...an unfortunate interloper.

If you're mucking out stalls or something, there's no shame in that, [Marcel says, amused.] It's honest work.

Seen battle yet?

I've seen battle back home. Aaaand when I got dumped in a fucking swamp full of zombies and monsters, some mages were blasting them away, so I've seen that.

I'm thinking I'm gonna learn how to work a crossbow, though. Someone suggested that since it's the only thing around here that's got a trigger.

Now that's some adaptive thinking right there. Good call.

Crossbows were never my thing, but you need some company during target practice, I got some shit to practice of my own.

[A beat.]

That's not license to shoot my ass.

o1 ♚ especially coffee

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man wth happened to my html up there

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