therookery | crystal

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crystal

( 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.

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( The vaguely happenstantially-familiar accent has Astrid perk up a little when she first hears this voice over the crystals… until it becomes exceedingly clear that this is in fact a rifter, not someone from the Frostbacks, and Astrid has no idea what they’re all talking about (schematics? engineering? what). But she barrels cheerfully into the conversation regardless: )

Heyo Abella, I’m Astrid.

I’ve not seen a wheeled-chair before but it sounds like an interesting idea, for the folks who need it. In the mountains, if a bear chews off your legs then you’re just sort of— Not fucked, the community takes care of you obviously, but it would have been nice. If they could get around on their own instead of always needing a stretcher or carrier. There was one fellow we called the Boneless and he could still fuck you right up with a sword but it must’ve been hard, most days.

( The familiarity of the accent catches her. It feels like a regional variation, the sort of thing that immediately breeds solidarity when thrust into a situation where that aspect of yourself has an element of "the other."

It's arguably grasping at straws. There are plenty of accents here that are reminiscent of home, and yet she's not jumping up to think people are from Rondon. The brief hope of someone from Bohemia or the Eastern Union was efficiently brushed away.

But 'Astrid' is a name from home, has a voice from home, and even speaks of mountains. The relief is like pulling yourself into a lifeboat from roiling seas.

She's been sounding progressively more serious and reserved across her responses. Her tone warms, now. )

It's nice to meet you, Astrid. And mountains present a whole different set of obstacles.

( Ramps that could send you flying out into the air if not designed and traversed with particular care? Not ideal. )

It is hard to know what is the best course of action. How much help do people want, how much help do they need, who are the people who want less help than they need, how do you figure out the right thing to do without focusing on it so much you miss the rest of who they are? And that's before you even get to the logistics. I mean, the things that might work in the Gallows are going to be more easily implemented than trying to make more changes to Kirkwall. ( Kirk-wall? hitched on her uncertainty )

I joked about the mountains, but if yours here are anything like home, you would need to ensure the mechanisms don't get locked up in ice and it can cross snow, at the bare minimum. But maybe it needs to be able to cross uneven terrain, or be light enough that climbing with it strapped to you is sustainable, depending on what they need to be able to do.

( It's both immense enthusiasm for the subject and an element of "now I am aware of this, yikes." )

Maybe it'd be easier to breed very big, strong goats that can be housetrained.

( Astrid finds herself laughing at that last mental image, surprised out of overthinking it: )

Korth, could you imagine? Riding mountain goats wearing comfortable harnesses or little backpacks to stuff people into. Honestly it’s probably the best solution, those fuckers can go up a sheer cliff face like it’s magic—

( After a few months, she’d half-told herself to stop grasping in vain at any halfway-familiar accent or name; homesick, heartsick. She had mostly stopped waiting to run into someone who sounds like family. But then this stranger says ice and snow and uneven terrain and climbing and the picture she paints is so very, very much like the place Astrid grew up that it makes some of that vague hopefulness spark back to life. )

It sounds like they are pretty similar, actually. I mean mountains are mountains, but mine are big and snowy too. Sometimes feels like you could look out and see right through to the end of the world. What’s your home like?

Vehicles are more easily repaired, but a creature with sense of its surroundings, and a friend while you travel? Even I might be persuaded to pick the goat.

( What's your home like? Alll-Mer, she's longed for home so desperately since she arrived in Prehevil. Mission or no mission, how could she not want to run away home? August asking her about her accent and homeland. )

Oldegård can be a shock to people who don't know it, I think. They have maybe seen photographs of our mountains and lakes, or they only go to cities on the coast with man-made canals weaving through. Then they go to the mountains, and hey think it will be all beautiful views and hot cocoa around a fire. They don't realise that part of it being so beautiful is it being harsh and extreme, too. We're further north than anywhere else in Europa, so sometimes in the summer the sun barely sets for an hour, and some days in winter you barely see it. There's dense forests and vast lakes and mountains so tall you can't catch your breath. People work hard to survive, and if they are kind and care for each other, it's because your community is the only thing you can count on. The cities still have people who are polite, but it's not the same as the small towns.

( Abella pauses, aware she's gone on a bit, and unable to feel apologetic when she just wants home so badly. )

I haven't been able to go so far from the cities for a while, though. What about yours?

( 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.

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.

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?

( 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?

( 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.

( 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?

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

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

Oh.

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

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

( nailed it )

( Brightly: ) That mean you’re going to join me over in Scouting?

You do sound like one of the Research nerds though.

Nerds? Really?

( She huffs out a laugh. )

For now I'm in Forces. It seemed like the most relevant division for building, and the like. I wasn't able to join the military at home, so it felt... like making up for it, I suppose, even though we're all fighting the war regardless of division.

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crystal

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don't mind my narrative tldr in response to Astrid casually existing

clutches my heart

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