TDM #5

[calderaevents]

ARRIVAL

It happens in an instant. A heavy weight in your gut, a trembling of your limbs, the world spins and you barely have time to register that you're falling before you lose consciousness. And when you awaken, it's not where you were last. Dark, unadorned oak walls surround you in a tiny room, the only furniture the bed you are currently resting upon, and the bedside table with a folded piece of parchment resting atop it that simply reads:

“The Tavernkeeper is awaiting your arrival downstairs.”

As you exit you find others like yourself emerging from the surrounding rooms. You are indeed in a tavern, but there is no hustle and bustle one might think to hear in such a place. The only person down on the main floor is a humanoid figure wiping down the bar, who smiles when they see you. They're familiar, but not, and you can't quite place their face. For some reason, however, their presence is comforting and warm.

“Welcome, Visitor. I'm sure you have a lot of questions.”

And you most certainly do.

Due to popular demand, the starter tavern and the drinks provided are available to in game characters via a portal accessible only to those with a faction gem.

DRINK MENU

FLAMEFRUIT SANGRIA a deep red wine based punch with chunks of softly glowing fruit floating in it. A single serving makes you feel relaxed, social, and maybe even a little flirty.

MOLTEN MEAD Though the thick drink itself is room temperature, it bubbles sluggishly, and feels very warm going down. The bold flavor affects your mood. You feel very bold! Like you could do anything!

BESALT BRANDY a hopefully staple drink for the brewery, this liquor is smooth and rich with a peppery bite. Ironically after consuming it, you kinda want to bite someone! Not hard! Just a little nip and nibble!

THAT ASHY ESPRESSO a single potent shot of dark espresso swirled with a gold-tinged cream. Intense and bitter with a hint of caramelized sugar. You are now very awake, hyper, and excited.

PYROCLAST'S WHISKEYa glossy black whiskey that turns a vibrant glowing orange when swirled. You now breathe fire.

EMBERMARK WINE a rich, velvety, spiced wine that immediately makes one feel mellow and calm.

CHOOSE YOUR DESTINY

As the effects of your drink wear off, the Tavernkeeper speaks once more:

”It is time, my friends, for you to find your new homes.”

You are compelled to walk through the only door leading out of the tavern, finding yourself not outside, but in a deep black, seemingly endless room with five portals arranged in a circle. As the last of you leave and the door closes behind you, gone when you look back again and replaced with nothing but that black void, three of the portals illuminate:

The first portal is surrounded by an almost blinding light, prismatic rainbows shining brightly in the dewy air outside of the tavern. A soft breeze may gently caress you, pulling you toward it. The portal seems to lead to a city in the clouds, airships and winged beings of all sorts soaring through the skies. Of the little bits of visible land, much of it boasts giant waterfalls that look like clouds melting into the land below. The portal calls to those who crave independence and freedom; and especially to anyone that wishes to find the strong bond of a family not forged in blood.

The second portal is encircled by a fairy ring of spotted white capped mushrooms, the faint scent of damp stone and rich earth wafting from within the faint green glow. Peering inside, one can see a sprawling harbor city of gray hewn stone, a melting pot of humanoid beings going about their day, and beyond, rolling green farmland and cottages clustered in small villages. This portal is destined for those who crave stability and solid ground beneath their feet. A simple life, an adventurous one, and everything in between can be found within.

The last portal is adorned with shells and seaweed, the glow of blue around it catching on droplets cascading down the circular opening. Beyond it you see a city housed inside a massive bubble deep under the ocean, spiraling towers encrusted with coral, and a variety of different creatures mingling about the streets. Outside of that bubble, merfolk swim, a massive squid engulfs the view from the portal as it smoothly glides through the water, and schools of fish disperse as it passes. A sanctuary in the sea that calls to those with a hunger for knowledge and a desire to aid those in need. Or perhaps it is the mystery that beckons you - the lure of the unknown in the depths that bids you explore it.

---

Upon following the pull of the breeze through the first portal, you are thrust into the beauty of a lively city that goes by the name of Heaven's Bow. Much of this main city feels exactly as you would expect on a city below, but there are clouds surrounding every direction you look. The walls of buildings are made with light-colored limestone, and buildings are generally built up to heights made even more grandiose by their position in the sky.

The Skyfall Docks are the first thing you notice, boasting hundreds of airships sailing in and out across the clouds with shouts that accompany a typical port city. Just outside is a fantastic market with goods not only from the other regions of Caldera, but from what some shopkeepers claim are other worlds--items sold or left behind by Visitors. Almost anything can be found in the markets if one is willing to look hard enough. Transport to other locations throughout the sky and even to the land or sea can be found here.

If the docks are too lively for you, you may instead find yourself roaming the underbelly of Heaven's Bow and finding brothels and gambling parlors filled with the promise of pleasure and fortune. The guild house for the Sylphs can be found here as well, giving out quests and training to prospective adventurers and guards alike--though none of them seem concerned with the illicit activities that surround them. Perhaps the freedom the Sylphs boast of extends to what others may deem an undesirable activity.

But most curious of all, you find a shimmering opal gemstone in your hand. When placed anywhere on the body, it will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If it was the second portal that called to you, you will find yourself in the busy city of Grey Ward, with its cobblestone streets and sturdy grey stone buildings. You are in the heart of the city, the Glass Market, so named for the colorful stained glass windows of the surrounding buildings. The scent of cooking food and the sound of barkers fills the air; watchful guards keep an eye out for pickpockets and thieves, and citizens go about their day. From here, one can investigate the rest of the city: the Sundown Docks, where both sea and sky faring skips transport people and goods. The Soot Spire, home of inventors and engineers. The Hearthstill, the main residential area. The Downs, a smaller residential area for those with less means.

Outside the city walls, one can explore acres of farmlands to the east and west, or follow Terra’s Pass to the less settled areas, but take care. Past the Skyward Range, out in the smaller burrows and villages, the influence of the city guard diminishes quickly, and you’ll have to keep your wits about you. Bandits along the road are always a risk, and the wildlife are less controlled by regimented hunting.

In your hand is a gemstone, a brilliantly green emerald that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

---

If the last portal beckoned you through it, you find yourself within that bubble covered city beneath the sea, the city of Salt Spire. Your ears pop with the change in pressure, and the smell of the salty sea fills your nostrils. All around you buildings made of dark stone encrusted with coral and seagrass tower high above your head, the backdrop outside the dome a deep blue, seemingly endless sea filled with fish and merfolk and all other manner of creature swimming through the water. You stand in the heart of it all, surrounded by people with gils on their necks and scales upon their vibrantly colored skin, all of whom seem intrigued by your arrival. You have many options of where to visit in the city under the sea, but where oh where will you go first?

The Salt Spire Library is right before you, an impossibly large building housing thousands upon thousands of books of all genres. Fiction, non-fiction, romance and mystery and all between. You may even find books from your world and others! Oddly enough though, no Calderan history books are to be found, and if you ask for them, the librarians and locals all choose to ignore your questions.

If scholarly pursuits aren't to your interest currently, perhaps a trip to Bluetide Market would be more your style? The marketplace is host to every manner of shop one might ever need: artisans of all varieties, apothecaries and healers in the Shimmer Quarter, the most in fashion undersea clothing shops, food stalls, and all between can be found in Bluetide. There are also the Tideshore and Fogbottom docks on either end of the city. The former allows transport to the surface via large, magical bubbles for those that cannot hold their breath or make the swim themselves yet. The latter allows people to venture further into the sea. Those without their underwater abilities are offered rebreathers for travel that last for four hours before needing to be replaced.

In your hand is a gemstone, a shining sapphire that, when placed anywhere on the body, will transform into a piece of jewelry with the gemstone set in the center.

IGNACIA'S CRADLE/EMBER VEIL

Months ago, a piece of land from Heaven’s Bow fell from the sky and scarred the land below, damaging a part of the city. From that chaos and ruin rose new life, a new ruler, and a new city: Ignacia’s Cradle. Just a short walk from the edge of Grey Ward, the gates of the city are guarded by two massive obsidian golems, and any who did not rise from the lava itself are warned at the entrance that to travel about the city will be most difficult, unless they have obtained a way to mitigate the extreme heat: be that with a charm, an ability, or a potion. The very streets themselves are paved in slabs of volcanic rock, tall spires of buildings constructed and shaped by rapidly cooled lava. The main method of travel are the mine carts, with tracks that wind through the spires ready to take one to almost any location.

Currently, the main feature of Ignacia’s Cradle is the Lava Flats, home of skilled smiths that use the extreme heat of the lava to melt the strongest metals and create unbreakable weapons, glassmakers and jewelers who fashion elaborate headpieces, rings, and amulets. These items are sold at the Ember Market on the outskirts of the Flats.

At the edge of the city lies the Ashfall Terrace, where a small farm using the rich volcanic ash and soil is in its infancy, as well as the Basalt Brewery where clever alchemists are researching ways to use the extreme heat to craft new and unique beverages that they are eager to find folk to test them out on.

---

The hot spring of Ignacia’s Cradle is a breathtaking anomaly located just beyond the Ashfall Terrace, tucked into a secluded crater formed by the celestial impact that gave rise to the city. Here, molten veins from the Lava Flats weave beneath the earth, heating a natural reservoir that bubbled to life amidst the chaos. The spring’s waters shimmer with an ethereal brilliance, hues of deep turquoise blending with molten gold and fiery orange, as though Heaven’s Bow itself left behind a fragment of its essence. Steam rises in curling wisps, carrying the tang of minerals and faint traces of sulfur.

The spring, known to locals as The Ember Veil, is both a sanctuary and a marvel of natural wonder. Its soothing waters are reputed to heal wounds and fortify the spirit, with the temperature kept in perfect balance by an intricate system of naturally formed vents and channels. The edges are lined with intricately carved obsidian benches, where patrons can soak their feet or meditate in the rising steam. Plants resistant to the intense conditions—vivid fire lilies and ash ferns—dot the perimeter, their resilience a symbol of life’s ability to flourish even in the harshest environments.

Sometimes, when two or more individuals share the waters, the spring creates a subtle connection between their minds, allowing memories to surface like ripples on its surface. These shared memories appear as glowing, translucent scenes that hover above the water, visible to all within the spring. Participants can relive moments from their lives, experiencing them through each other’s eyes, fostering profound empathy and understanding.

Another of the spring’s mystical properties occurs when bathers who enter the waters feeling drained, injured, or burdened by grief often find their vitality restored. The waters seem to draw out negative energies and emotions, replacing them with a warm, invigorating sensation that spreads through the body. In rare instances, the spring has been known to accelerate physical healing, mending minor injuries and soothing chronic aches, as though the magic itself is stitching the body back together.

A lesser-known but equally fascinating effect happens on particularly clear nights, when the moonlight reflects on the spring’s surface, some bathers report fleeting glimpses of potential futures. These visions are often cryptic, appearing as brief, dream-like flashes, but they have guided many to life-changing decisions. The alchemists of the Basalt Brewery believe this effect stems from residual cosmic energy, and they have begun experimenting with enhancing it through the addition of rare minerals and lunar elixirs.

RADIANT SUN

The day begins like no other, with the skies painted in hues of golden-pink as the Radiant Sun ascends. Its light spills over the world, warm and soft, caressing the land and filling every heart with a sense of peace. Beneath its glow, emotions of love and connection bloom like never before. Strangers exchange heartfelt smiles, old friends embrace as though no time has passed, and lovers find their feelings deepened, their bonds strengthened.

Even the air feels different—lighter, sweeter, as though the universe itself is celebrating. The songs of birds harmonize with the melodies of impromptu musicians who feel inspired by the sun’s radiance. Those with magical abilities sense their powers of healing and creation magnified, as if the sun itself lends its strength to their intentions. Long-held grudges seem to melt away under the sun’s tender gaze, replaced by tears of reconciliation and words of forgiveness.

The Radiant Sun touches every heart differently:

◾A widow finds peace as memories of her late spouse no longer bring sorrow but gratitude for the love they shared.
◾A timid youth finds the courage to confess their feelings to the person they’ve admired for so long.
◾A gruff warrior lets down their guard, laughing freely with their companions for the first time in years.

For a fleeting moment, the world feels as it should be—unified, harmonious, and drenched in love.

But as the day wanes and the Radiant Sun dips below the horizon, an unease begins to settle...

JEALOUS MOON

The golden light gives way to deep purples and silvers as the Jealous Moon rises, its glow pale and cold. Its light pierces the heart, not to warm it, but to expose the insecurities that lie buried within. Where love had flourished during the day, doubt begins to creep in.

Under the Jealous Moon’s influence, emotions twist and darken:

◾A once-reconciled pair of siblings argue over old grievances, as jealousy over perceived favoritism resurfaces.
◾A couple, who had spent the day lost in each other’s arms, now question each other’s loyalty and intentions.
◾A nobleman, inspired to be generous during the day, grows suspicious of those who received his gifts, fearing they may exploit his kindness.

The air grows heavy with tension, and the magic of the Radiant Sun fades, replaced by the sharp sting of distrust. The moon’s pale light seems to follow people like a judgmental gaze, amplifying every fear, insecurity, and lingering resentment.

Worse still, the night seems endless, as though time itself has bent beneath the weight of the Jealous Moon’s envious glow. For three long days and nights, the moon lingers high in the sky, its pale, piercing light casting a shadow over hearts and minds, amplifying discord and despair. Its power sows strife among even the closest bonds, driving some to dangerous extremes. Yet, when all seems lost, the scholars of the three factions unite their wisdom and uncover a glimmer of hope—a means to dispel the moon’s cruel influence. For those who have not yet succumbed to jealousy’s grip, there remains a chance to reclaim harmony, a chance for redemption before the damage becomes irreversible.

The solution lies not in complex rituals or rare relics but in the simplest and most instinctive actions: physical connection. To weaken the moon’s hold, people must embrace one another—offering a hug, a handshake, or even resting a hand on someone’s shoulder. These gestures of closeness disrupt the isolation and mistrust that the moon thrives upon. Sitting side by side or holding hands creates a barrier against its oppressive light, reminding the afflicted that they are not alone. Even small acts, like sharing warmth through proximity or clasping arms in solidarity, build a shield of connection that the moon cannot penetrate.

As these actions ripple through the night, the Jealous Moon’s light begins to dim, its sharp, cold glow softening until it fades from the sky entirely. The tension in the air lifts, replaced by a quiet calm that feels almost foreign after the chaos of the past three days. Slowly, the world seems to exhale, and the darkness that clung so tightly to the hearts of many begins to loosen its grip. People step back from the brink of despair, their minds clearing as if waking from a long, disorienting dream. Relationships strained by the moon’s influence begin to mend as apologies are exchanged, tears are shed, and bonds are reaffirmed.

ALL IS WELL(?)

With the Radiant Sun rising again, its golden-pink hues spilling across the horizon, life begins to return to normal. The birds resume their morning songs, markets reopen, and the hum of daily activity fills the air once more. Though traces of the moon’s influence linger in whispered memories, there is a collective sense of relief and gratitude among the people—gratitude for the light, for connection, and for a second chance to heal.

In the outskirts of Ignacia's Cradle, Aella and Terra, two of the three leaders of the factions, come together to address the gathered crowds. Together they assure the people that this celestial event was a rare anomaly, something never before recorded in the annals of history. They explain that while the Jealous Moon’s influence was unprecedented and deeply unsettling, it was a unique alignment of cosmic forces that is unlikely to occur again in their lifetimes—or ever.

The leaders thank the people for their resilience and compassion, emphasizing how their acts of unity—simple gestures of closeness and connection—proved stronger than the moon’s envy. They commend the scholars for their quick thinking and the Visitors for their role in guiding others through the chaos. Finally, they urge everyone to move forward, not in fear of what has passed, but with the knowledge that even in the darkest moments, their strength lies in the bonds they share.

QUESTBOARD

Settled in? Good. It's time to make your way to the Questboard located in every city in numerous, easy to access locations. That is, if you want to make any kind of impact on the world or just get some Bones for anything you might wish to purchase. Visitors are given a very small stipend in which to survive every month, but all it does is keep you fed and housed. These quests will assure you greater wealth, and they're the main reason you're here: each finished quest helps the Calderans fix their shattering world.

Quests can be accepted at the questboard via magically signed parchment upon the board. Just sign your name to accept and the paper will be whisked away... somewhere. You're not actually sure. Probably nothing to concern yourself with.

Once quests are completed, earned Bones will be dropped off at the character's residence by Bonita, the mysterious artisan who has supposedly handcrafted every Bone circulating in Caldera. Please do not speak to her, she startles easily.

*February will be the last month to complete quests for this rotation. New ones will go up on March 1st.

OOC NOTES

Welcome to Caldera's fifth TDM! All characters awaken in a strange tavern with nothing save the clothes on their backs, all of their powers stripped, and a piece of parchment directing them downstairs to the Tavernkeeper. There is a thread of all questions answered by the Tavernkeeper here, and if you have more, feel free to ask there for what would be offered ICly.

For OOC questions, please direct themhere.

All locations are available to be explored! Ignacia's Cradle and Ember Veil have been added, along with details about the Violet Drop regarding the Cult of Triton.

The TDM is game canon and all completed quests can be carried over once accepted into the game.

Participation in the Radiant Sun/Jealous Moon effects is not mandatory.

main navigation

Comments

Arrival

[kusuriuris]

There's a rather colorful stranger sliding into a chair near Scott, one who clearly isn't human if the ears or almost lavender hair wasn't a dead giveaway. There's a sniff in the air, then a smile.

"What kind of drink is that, smells good."

[wantadistraction]

Lydia remained quiet because he was right, she knew that. She also knew she didn't let herself get rattled all that often but seeing the memory playing out before them had rattled her a bit more than she cared to admit. It was a reminder of how she had been in the dark and how she hadn't been able to stop Peter from attacking her.

"The memory bothered me," she told him, revealing some of her thoughts. "It was a horrible reminder and a reminder of other attacks after. But I did use them to push myself to be stronger. After one of them, I decided I needed to learn how to fight and I asked a friend to teach me."

"It's not really to you, I just...I wish you would stop worrying so much about hurting me while we get closer." She looked up at him again. "So remember the fact that you've called me strong all those times you start to let the worry get to you. But...it's also okay to let ourselves be vulnerable sometimes too."

[dalishoriginal]

"Happenstance, or just good luck?" He sighs, warm against Zevran's lips, already little breathless, "Creators, I missed you."

He'll take that kiss with pleasurable groan, shifting closer until he's practically in Zevran's lap. Or maybe properly in his lap. Or maybe he'll just lean right over him and lean Zev back against the edge of the pool, pressing fervent, openmouthed kisses upon him, over and again.

"Now this... is a bit more like how I saw the reunion going."

[arlathvhen]

Lavellan lets him go through his various facial journeys as he learns about the current circumstances, hands clasped behind her, face politely turned to observe the rest of the tavern. She has yet to meet anyone who has knowledge further than her own--everyone that she's spoken to has been from various degrees of the past. So it's a conversation that she is accustomed to, and tries to treat with the care that she'd hope for should someone from the future come to her.

Though she's fairly sure any future in Thedas will not involve her.

When he gives his own answer, she turns back to him, and there's a moment where she has to think, as well. Place the date into her time frame. It's a long ways back. "The year the mages rebelled against the Chantry. I believe that the Divine was already putting things in place to attempt to restart the Inquisition, to soothe the crisis. But...Well. You can probably guess, I was not their first choice." She gives a self-depreciating laugh, gesturing at, well. All of herself.

"Certain events took place the following year, and all their plans were rendered quite moot. Though I did take care of the mage and templar situation." She waves her hand dismissively. Just one crisis out of many. "I will not bore you with any details you do not wish to know, though I'm happy to fill in what I can. However..." And now she turns to Felassan, her face carefully polite and friendly.

"...I do not wish to be spinning stories with a stranger." And then her expression turns expectant. She gave him her name, after all.

[youknowwhothisis]

He tipped his head to regard him, wearing the sunniest face a duck could manage. "Oh, she's well! She just up and left one day."

He brought a wing to his chest. "Tough lady, though. I'm sure she's living her very best life out there somewhere!"

The wing swept out toward... life, he supposed?

[toolatetochangethename]

Oh, okay, cool. Must be an anime convention in town. That's like the most normal thing he's seen since he got here.

"Sangria. Fruit and booze and wine. It's a party in a glass!" It also hits like a hammer on an empty stomach whoooooo. He pushes it across the table, because hey, everyone should celebrate. Want a taste? Go for it. "Don't choke on the fruit, though. I don't know the Heimlich."

"Nice uh," what's the word? Got it! "Cosplay. So what are you from?" Cassie's still too young for this stuff but he might as well learn the hip animes now so he can be Cool Dad.

[dreamflowers]

The familiar word sounds so alien suddenly, and Jade can't tell if it's because of Imoen's voice or her memories. She's still wrestling with the shapeshifter's taunts when it registers.

Tēmī. The word she had given to Rynéus, because she was too much of a damned coward to tell him what it meant. Because she knew she could never grant his final wish to be his sister.

"No," Jade chokes, her hands coming to her face as tears streak down her cheeks. Dammit. Not this again. "He... He's gone."

Everyone's gone.

[epicure]

"You do have an odd sort of luck, I suppose." Good? Bad? Some secret third option?

Zevran let him crowd his space, back gently bumping the curve of obsidian edging around the steaming pool of water. His hands shifted, both settled on Mahariel's hips to tug him as close as possible; get him into his lap as he so wished to be.

Each kiss had him laughing, head tilted to eagerly return them. "In a hot spring beside a volcano in a strange land? Oddly specific..."

[kusuriuris]

"San-gri-a?" The Medicine Seller repeats, murmuring a soft 'thank you' as the glass is pushed his way. He takes the glass, gives another sniff before taking a sip... and immediately chokes at the strength.

"Oh, oh gods, what kind of festivals do you go to?" The Medicine Seller rasps, setting the glass down and pushing it back over to Scott. He coughs, hand thumping at his chest as he struggles to clear his throat, just barely catching Scott's words.

"I'm from Japan." He wheezes, sticking out his tongue. Yup, no sangria for the Medicine Seller.

[goethbeforethefall]

"I am told, by reliable witnesses, that I do it to myself," Solas scoffs, halfway to a bitter laugh. Beleth not the least among those, of course, "If ever you have trespassed against me, know that you are forgiven, Vhenan."

He cannot think of any instance in which she might have ever done so, but that he invited it in the first place. It was his will that made them enemies, was it not? Her adamant refusal of the role was how they got here at all, with her lying in his arms, steaming water a cocoon of false safety all around.

"I know you would have followed me. That is why I could not permit it; I cannot destroy you with the monster I must become. There is nothing but death on that path; you must live."

[goethbeforethefall]

It is a fascinating story, and Solas finds himself wholly enraptured by it. A tale of trials and sorrows, of his friend rising up against the forces of warring gods. It might have happened in Arlathan, played out under the very feet of his own larger struggle, a miniature reflection of those terrible wars.

And then it is finished, and the only sound is the drip of water, and the nearly-imperceptible hiss of the stone's heat, all else muffled amongst rising steam.

"Yours is a stalwart heart," He says, finally, his own voice nearly a match to Barcus' sorrow, "I am sorry that your friend could not honor it."

That is all, for a long few heartbeats. Solas considers many things to say: to lie, to tell his own tale, to tell only a part of it. In the end he opens his mouth, closes it again, and then opens it on a sigh and a shake of the head that is something like a laugh, rueful and wry.

"My friend, I am nearly ten thousand years old."

[pokeabear]

Halsin's eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at Lulu because he knew what it was like to pretend otherwise when there was a deep-seated wound that would never fully heal. At least, that was the sense he had as Lulu extended a wing like he was shrugging.

"Then she's a fool." He decided with a firm look. "To just up and leave you."

Ember Veil. Also I'm sorry. (noI'mnot)

[youknowwhothisis]

Well, he WAS going to have a nice soak and unwind, but there's a guy here sort of by his lonesome.

Lucifer was also feeling very bored.

The Devil should never be bored and left to his own devices. That meant he could shed his towel and quietly slip into the water from a rather steamy, obscured side of the room. With a thought, he changed form, shedding what he was and trading for something appropriate for the occasion.

The water burst forward in a flurry of motion, revealing a large white shark with red eyes (and lovely little cheek spots) rushing at Scott. Who had time for traumatic memories right now!?

[buffleheaded]

When Imoen got broken down in Spellhold, everything had been to bring her more in line with her father's domain. Now she finds tragedy, finds moderation so delicate.

Rynéus may be gone, but they're here. Aren't they? Her hand twitches up - she makes herself not try to take Jade's hand, not now. But she does gently brush fingertips at an elbow. She wonders again about some of the scars Jade wears. If some of them might be...

"He didn't stay with you? As a ghost, or..."

[coldsong]

Well, at least if he dies, Loki can't be blamed for it. He didn't even suggest a drink.

"Well met, Scott Lang," he says with an arch look, but then the rest of the flirting spills out and--he can't help it, the poor man looks so horrified at himself, Loki bursts out laughing.

He reaches out and pats him on the shoulder, then beckons the Tavernkeeper. "I think it's time for a glass of water for our friend here, if you please."

Turning back to Scott, he rests his elbows on the counter, chin in hands. "You're permitted to be drunk, it wouldn't be my business, but I believe you. Anyway, I'm Loki. Welcome to Caldera, I suppose."

[dalishoriginal]

"Oh sure. In the bath, in a secret corner up a tower, down in the armory when everyone's distracted," Each suggestion was a kiss, a bite, a fresh bruise sucked against willing skin. Theron's attention traveling now across Zev's jaw and throat as he chases sulpherous drops of water and bites at his collarbone, "I've had plenty of thoughts on the matter. It's lonely work, being Warden-Commander."

Not that he ever got any time actually alone. No sooner was he in quarters than he was asleep, and no sooner was he awake than that damn seneschal he'd been given was at him about some duty or another. And being on the road didn't make it better; the difference between alone and lonely was significant. No, of course this was better than any idle daydream or nightly fantasy. Desire demons in the fade don't compare to the real thing.

Zev's hands are on him, pulling him close, and Theron gives up on bracing himself up and simply lets Zevran take his weight, instead.

"I'm not going to complain if it turns out better in the end."

[coldsong]

The ears are terribly expressive. He's charmed in spite of himself. And this is the most positive reaction to his introduction he's experienced in a long, long while.

"Seriously. Inasmuch as I'm capable of being serious and/or truthful." But for the moment, Loki is at his best. He's easily won over, perhaps, by a young person with alignment and interests in common with him.

"Not everyone recognizes my name these days, and some of those who do aren't happy to hear it. Nice to meet a friend for once."

[borelblue]

"You are most welcome," he sweetly whispers.

Aymeric kisses Halsin's scalp. With one arm around his shoulders, Aymeric strokes his hair, with a few stray strokes over his ear as well. They do no more than that for a time. Quiet, save for the shifting of the water and the beating of their hearts. All of it is time for Halsin to find some peace of mind.

Another kiss to his scalp. Another stroke over his ear.

[arlathvhen]

"Oh, it worked." Without even looking, she waves her hand breezily to the waters that had reflected her memories. "With Celene--She died, I swooped in to heroically avenge her, and Gaspard ruled Orlais at Briala's whim. With everything else that I needed to do. All problems put before me, I overcame. All trials, I accomplished." Her tone isn't one of bravado. It is a simple matter of fact. She was the Inquisitor, and she was good at it. It was what she believed, and what those around her assured her of.

"Things were rough for a period of time--I will not sit here and bore you with the needless dramas of Thedas. There was a mage of unprecedented power, who spread a plague through the land. I did what I could to save people--It was not enough, of course. It never is. There will always be people who die, and I will spend the rest of my life with their names on my heart, wondering if I could do more." This is said calmly as well-it is what it is, something she has already come to terms with. It is the price of being a leader. "But even so, no one questioned my leadership, or that I tried my best. And then I aided in the defeat of this gruesome mage, and--"

Here she turns to Finnick, and there is a light shining in her eyes, not unlike when she was younger, more reckless, and eager for the power. "--I could have done anything. The world was recovering from a crisis on a scale unlike any witnessed before, and I was the lone source of authority, having protected the world, and helped killed the man who had caused the crisis. It would have been like--" She reaches up, and mimicked plucking a fruit from a tree. "--that easy, to reach forth and take it. But--"

And then, suddenly, it's gone. The leader who had accomplished so much, and who could see how much more she could do, and for whom it would be so easy to grab more power. She disappears into the warm water and all that is left is Beleth, reserved and polite and affable. "--I decided to be happy, instead. I left all of that behind, to be with Solas. He was leaving, and I realized that more than anything, more than any of this nonsense," And she waves her hand, like having all the power in the world is a gnat to be brushed aside. "I wanted to be happy. I wanted to be with him. So we left together."

She laughs, glancing off to the side. "One day, he might even forgive himself for letting me do it."

[dreamflowers]

Feeling Imoen's hands reach for her, Jade flinches instinctively, but doesn't withdraw completely. A part of her, stabbing and aching deep down, doesn't feel that she's worth the sympathy. That she had choked on that grief for this long, she could swallow it someday.

Leaning forward, resting her head between her knees, Jade just shakes her head. The mere notion of condemning that boy to such an existence sounds loathsome to her.

"Yes and no." Jade pauses. "Not all ghosts are dead -- not in the way you think. Old images etched into my brain, searched and always burning."

Jade had seen them her entire life, but they were phantasms; a madness that plagued her.

hmmm

[loosed]

What do they eat? Could they be soothed or led away by a food source? What has them agitated to begin with? Is there such a thing as speaking wind sprite —

These do not seem like questions he's likely to receive an answer to today.

He nudges some scrubby, winter-brittle grasses aside with his foot, turning up another shingle. One upside of his people's propensity for walking around barefoot regardless of the weather: it's easier to wriggle his foot beneath the shingle and flip it up into the air to catch than it would be in a boot.

Not easier than just bending to pick it up with his hands, though, no. Just a little more fun.

Setting aside questions about the sprites for now. How about: "You're very tall."

In case he hadn't noticed.

[odare]

Any doubts Finnick may have had about Beleth's character or her deeds in her world are put to bed by this story. She saved people, and yet felt guilty for not being able to save everyone- something Finnick can certainly relate to. She had the opportunity to seize ultimate power, to become a President Snow of her own world, make things work in her favor to all others' detriment, and she chose not to. She chose a much simpler path, and the fact that love appealed to her more than power makes Finnick certain that she is cut from the same cloth as he is. All around.

By the end, he's smiling, leaning his cheek on his fist, propped by his elbow on the poolside.

"You made the right choice," he says quietly, not to reassure her or anything, just because he genuinely thinks so. That's all he says, for a few moments.

"Actually, I approve of all your choices, not that my opinion matters or anything," he jokes. Although, really, she's a notorious leader and he's some fuckboy, so he doesn't expect his opinion actually would matter to her much.

[lost_and_foundry]

"It's not really over," Barcus says softly, calmly. "He won't leave unfinished business. But that's a moot point for as long as I'm here."

Barcus' pale eyes lend themselves to gentle looks; the natural quirk of his brows leaves him looking pensive or forlorn more often than not. None of this is misleading. He's as mild and preoccupied with art and artifice as he looks, and yet there's enough space behind those slate-blue eyes to hide a few secrets. No one has ever asked him why he was comfortable letting Wulbren walk away, with the recipe for Runepowder still sitting in his head. It certainly wasn't an act of trust. Maybe it was a foolish fancy, the last remnants of a dying love. Maybe there's more to it than that.

He can all but hear wheels turning in Solas' head, though what exactly he's thinking over, Barcus isn't sure. When the words come, his eyebrows rise, but then he just smiles. The fact that he was unwilling to ask for an explanation seems to have inspired enough trust to earn one.

"I guessed you were in some way extraordinary," he admits. "The way you speak of your people, the way you talked about the veil and the Fade...I still couldn't put it into proper words to save my life. Just a hunch, a feeling."

Like someone who's had a project gone wrong, or left unresolved on the workbench for weeks, aching to have it done one way or another, but dispirited by the hours of work it will take to untangle the fault down to the root and rebuild. "You were there, weren't you, for that ancient empire you mentioned, that's only myth and legend?"

Living so long, he thinks, must be terribly lonely.

[lost_and_foundry]

"I suppose not," Barcus agrees, and he hardly needed another reason to look back on Wulbren with pity, but here he is again, reevaluating the look on his face when Barcus stood against him. But Wulbren was always driven.

He regards Gadriel with interest. Half the time the man seems so direct, and at the same time so befuddled with his sitation, it's tempting to just assume he's a bit simple. He's a fish out of water, though, and that's what makes the difference. You don't survive war without strategy, and you don't operate technology on the level he wears, without a decent intellect. It's just rare, Barcus guesses, to have the leisure to turn it towards philosophy.

"That's very perceptive of you, Sergeant," he says softly. "Maybe he can still find himself again. With or without me. I can only hope."

He actually smiles, then, chuckling faintly. "I have childhood memories, yes. What a pain in the ass he was!" He says it fondly.

[goethbeforethefall]

Solas will think of that later, when it is too long past for the asking. He will lie in bad and wonder, and what conclusions he comes to on the nature of Barcus' cleverness will run his blood cold. Not for the first time, he will make plans for eventualities that he hopes may never come to pass, and sleep full of guilt at his own foolishness.

But that is all later, and in the here and now he only shakes his head in wonder at the mettle of this man, and the steadiness in his voice.

"I was there at it's founding," He says, quietly, and only then looks up to meet Barcus' eyes, "I fought in the wars that preceded it. I saw Arlathan rise to glory, and the ancient gods raise themselves above it as tyrants. I saw them cast down, and I saw it all in overgrown ruin. All who I once knew are dead, save one— and I must kill him, if any who yet live are to survive."

He thinks on that for a moment and then, in a strange fit of hysteria, Solas laughs, low and humorless, bitter with old anger. A tragic tale, is it not? And yet, it is not so tragic as it may be: certainly, no one will ever mourn the passing of the god of tyranny and vengeance.

"And it will be a privilege, to see him die. He is a monster."