crystal

[undergrunn]

( Behold, a new voice on the crystals. Soft, good-humoured, with an accent that sounds Scandinavian / relative equivalent. The crystal catches a quiet breath of laughter before she speaks. )

I don’t know if you’re really lucky to have an engineer turn up, or if I’m really unlucky that I need to figure out the machinery.

I mean, learning about the infrastructure of a city in a whole different world isn’t even a “once in a lifetime” kind of opportunity, and pretending I’m some sort of genius at kinetic motion just because I know some mechanisms from home would be pretty fun, but…

Wow.

( Maybe that sounds a little weightier than her first "wow.")

Oh, I'm Abella. Riftwatch, you’re gonna have to have a lot more ramps by the time I’m done with you. Somewhere has to accommodate wheelchair users, even if it’s some kind of fairy tale world.

( Hmmm. )

Wait, can you just make them float, here? (More softly, ) Flying wheelchairs would explain the lack of ramps. I mean, this crystal thing is remarkable, so... let me know if I don't need to think about the ramps.

Comments

[brennvin]

( Mutual intelligibility is by no means a given when the rifters all speak so many different languages, but sometimes the universes offer up a surprising parallel; an unexpected linguistic overlap. So Astrid echoes back with a guess, half-thoughtful: )

Oldegård. Old farm?

( And the next words out of her mouth are an automatic kneejerk offer which she really should’ve considered longer, but then it’s already out there. )

I should take you to the Frostbacks sometime, it sounds so much the same. Except here in Thedas, it’s colder the further south you go: tall, tall mountains and dense woods and snow on the peaks, and you’ll freeze your tits off in the winters. The snowstorms are bitter, and people say it’s harsh and unforgiving but I’ve always thought it’s beautiful up there. Like you said— when it’s so hard to survive, you have to take care of each other. When you’re holed up for the whole winter, you find ways to make it warm and cozy and comfortable at home.

We don’t really have towns, though. My people, the Avvar, we live in settlements called holds. They’re built on the edge of the mountains or sometimes even carved into them. Mine’s called Wulfhold. I’m still getting used to the big city, here.

[undergrunn]

Something similar, at least at some point. It might be from the name of an old alliance or something more ancient that’s shifted over time. History isn’t my strong suit.

( She’s quiet as she listens, trying to visualise it. )

Do all the hold names end with -hold, or do they vary?

I’d be interested to learn what sort of layouts they have. As limited as my knowledge of historical events and words goes, I have learned bit about past constructions and how they were made, it’s be interesting to see if there are parallels. It sounds a little like the communities that formed around medieval keeps… geez, I haven’t thought about this in ages. There’s bound to be a more accurate reference point I’m forgetting right now. With Oldegårde being north and your mountains in the south, it’s almost like the dreams are a mirror. We can see reflections of something similar from the opposite angle.

[brennvin]

All the ones I know of, yeah— Frosthold, Bearhold, Honey Badger Hold, names like that. I s’pose someone could go found their own hold and name it whatever the fuck they like, nobody’s stopping you. But if someone has done it, I haven’t heard of ’em.

I always thought this sort of thing was pretty random but that’s a more poetic way of looking at it. ( Her words don’t sound dismissive, just taking in Abella’s description, the dream as a mirror. Here’s a difference in how they look at the world. It’s still charming. )

So you built stuff? Where you came from?

[undergrunn]

( Is a honey badger another magical creature of this land, or something shared by both, like bears and horses? What are they? It’s a question for another time. )

I don’t know the mathematical probability of things being truly random, but there’s usually some kind of logic or pattern, even if we don’t have the viewpoint to see it.

( Like being drawn into a death match orchestrated by an ancient deity. There was bound to be some reason all of them were the ones subject to it, some pattern and probability. The scary thing was the growing concern that a mortal mind might never be able to comprehend it.
A week ago she couldn’t have told you when she’d even spared a thought to the Old Gods. They hadn’t been real.

If it was random that she was one of the people drawn into it, that might make it worse. )

Um— yes. My primary interest was mechanisms, but infrastructure demands after the last war meant I was doing a lot of work on mechanisms alongside rebuilding, new buildings, maintenance. Sometimes you need to figure out what the original purpose of something was so you can figure out the root cause of a new problem, like if catacombs have been converted to a sewer system.

What about you? Are you doing something different in the city to when you were in the mountains?

[undergrunn]

Calculated risks. Thanks to the mathematics.

[undergrunn]

Thank you.

[undergrunn]

( And she will gladly take that escape hatch. )

Exactly. Much of my work has centered on infrastructure from necessity, but mechanisms were what got me into engineering. Understanding how they are needed and applied to construction has been critical, but getting to create something like that from scratch? That'd be amazing.

Propulsion would be a potential issue. The benefit of wheels is the user being able to generate speed by hand, and track propulsion would inhibit that, unless you... I don't know, created a crank mechanism, perhaps placed in front, like a steering wheel.

( She sounds dubious. ) It'd be so easy to place the wheel awkwardly and cause muscle strain.

[undergrunn]

There are so many ways to visualise that.

( Probably everything that's popped to mind is far more horrifying than the reality. She hopes so, at any rate. She's Seen Some Things.

It's easy to let her focus slip back to the little creature, the sort of thing she taught her younger siblings to make. Learning magic is real should explain it, and yet she's looking for any sign of a mechanism as she scritches the ridges of the pine cone. The way it moves don't seem at all mechanical. )

Do you help with applying the salt, or...?

[brennvin]

( Another laugh, a little sheepish this time, )

Oh. Different. Very different. Life with Riftwatch is not the same as back in the hold. I mean, I do still go out on hunting trips sometimes because supplies are so scarce and meat is kind of expensive at market, but it’s not like that is my main responsibility with Riftwatch? I was mainly a hunter, before, but now I’m with Scouting. We, um, do a variety of things.

( She’s rambling too now, she realises. )

Maps, surveillance, information-gathering, that sort of thing, plus the regular scouting.

[undergrunn]

( A variety of things. It's not a stretch to think surveillance would be the home of subterfuge and spywork. She wonders if that might be something-else she and Astrid have in common.

Well, to be fair, Astrid did say outright that she was information gathering alongside "regular scouting."

Abella hums thoughtfully. ) Have you had to infiltrate enemy lines?

[brennvin]

( Fidgety. If it’s possible to sound fidgety over the crystal. )

Not… yet, although I expect it’s only a matter of time. Why?

[grindset]

Yes, [sounds breathy, almost approaching a laugh.] Either way, the occupant would need impressive upper body strength to move such large treads. A motorized device would be better. If fuel is a concern, you could even attempt a wind-up mechanism... though the spring tension would be incredibly high, and rough terrain would challenge its run time.

[Belatedly, amid the whirring of his thoughts: a ping.]

Have you... never built a machine of your own?

[undergrunn]

Oh.

( She hadn't... prepared a response for this. )

Just curious, really. Subterfuge, spy things. They sound so exciting.

( nailed it )

[undergrunn]

I'd been trying to think around a need for fuel or engines, in the case that they be needed here, or simply due to the cost and limited availability of fuel at home. It'd present a further challenge for mobility if the user wasn't able to power it themselves, by some means.

( She hums, thinking. )

I've done extensive repairs and restoration of machines. The mechanisms I've created have been weapons, rather than complex vehicles, but that's my passion. I've developed designs, but that was for my own enjoyment, the work I've had to do has been more focused on maintaining and adapting existing machines for civil projects.

[grindset]

[It's probably good that Abella is spared seeing what Viktor's face does when she says all she's created is weapons, as she's had plenty of disapproval today already. Thus far it sounds like she comes from a troubled place, and in such places, as he knows very well, people do as needs must. But this is more than merely a sore spot—it's raw, neglected, slowly festering under its wraps.

Nonetheless, there's no unkindness in his voice as he replies, though its character has changed; that tentative spark of enthusiasm has been chased away.]

Yes... well...

[A pause, a little recalibration,]

Here you have the opportunity to achieve something new. Much of what we do will, in some ways, be very different from what you're accustomed to working on, but most of the fundamental principles still apply. If you're interested in learning, that alert system I mentioned earlier may be a good place to start—it takes frequent maintenance to remain precise.

[elegiaque]

Isaac isn't the head healer, ( she clarifies, ) or in need of any assistance to be a cunt.

( honestly, doing smashing work solo. really knocking it out of the park. you have to admire, etcetera. gwenaëlle's sideways glance betrays this for the joke it is, too: ) I let Dr Strange tell me what to do at work so he doesn't feel badly that I pay for everything at home.

( it doesn't matter that he isn't here to hear her make that crack; she knows what his face would have done if he heard it, and it's still funny. more seriously, ) I have a history with medicine, a little, so mostly it's alchemy, inventory, rolling bandages. Doing the sort of work any hands can do so that the hands we need for specialist work can focus. But sometimes—

( a shrug. )

Stephen — Strange — and I have done battlefield surgery, his knowledge of the work and my steady hands, I know how to clean and stitch and care for wounds, I can manage a dislocation with a second set of hands. I've overseen lyrium detox, now, though I doubt it's going to come up again soon.

[youwonscience]

No, yeah, I'm a biologist. With sort of an unanticipated specialty in the Fade's affect on living organisms here in Thedas, but back home I was in evolutionary developmental biology. Most of what I worked on there isn't really possible with the tools I've got here, but you know, now that I'm the head of the Research division a huge chunk of my day is paperwork anyhow. [It sounds like she's smiling, at least partially joking.] That part feels familiar at least. Writing memos to explain why we need certain materials and how we're going to secure funding.

[allthatgleamsisgold]

[Vlast doesn't reply for a good ten minutes. Not because he's ignoring the question, but giving it the consideration it's due. After all, he's only had insight to a mortal perspective for a few short months. For him, the experience of being alone on a bridge in the dark would be very different for a human.

But he does try to see it from her point of view.]

Tranquil.

[He quickly reconsiders this answer; the word has different weight, different connotations here - the kinds that earn Templars and Chantry brothers and sisters the most disdainful of Vlast's perpetual sneers.]

Meditative. Serene. If you are one who finds solitude restful. If not, it may be isolating. Cloying, perhaps, with dark all around and you have only lamps to rely upon.

[thereneverwas]

You are a hero and a scholar, messere.

[succise]

We —

(But then Abella keeps speaking, and she falls silent abruptly.

Once it seems to be her turn:) You could find out about them from me, if you'll let me answer your questions one at a time.

[succise]

Wanting to help is useless if you will not do what the people who are asking for help want of you.

[undergrunn]

( Unseen, alone, Abella has her back against a wall. She slides down, knuckles white with how tight she grasps the crystal, before she takes a moment to light up a cigarette.

Her voice and her hands are steady when Abella replies, although there’s sweat running down her back. )

Sure. What can you tell me?

[succise]

(Primly,) The Old Gods are a thing of ancient Tevinter. I doubt you'd be able to find many who still believe in them today; anybody who says they do is part of a cult or trying to sell you something.

(... This is tantamount to admitting she knows very little about them, only through ghost stories and Circle schoolyard rumour. Still, Vega presses on.) There were seven of them. Old Gods, I mean, they took the form of dragons — or they were only ever just dragons, but very large and powerful ones, so out of fear people worshipped them like gods.

You don't need to worry about them here.

[undergrunn]

( No longer worshipped, cults. That cranks up her tension, rather than diffusing it. )

Were any of them associated with trickery, or the moon?

( “You don’t need to worry about them here,” well. She used to not worry about them at home. )

[succise]

Oh, (Vega doesn't know. This is something she has never cared about or thought interesting at all. At best it's a humourous theory and at worst it means deluded people are running loose in Tevinter, believing dragons are gods.) Probably.