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entrancelogs2018-07-21 07:09 pm
morework) wrote in entrancelogs2018-07-21 07:09 pm
[OPEN] With wicked eyes and wicked hearts
Who: Commander Cullen + YOU
Where: The Winter Palace
When: 07/21 - 07/23
Rating: PG-13 (barring unforseen The-Grand-Game-ing)
Summary: There is something to be said for Wonderland's ability to turn the Orlesian court into an even bigger farce than usual, though the words are not kind by any stretch. Cullen tries to hold on to his wits and life all the same.
The Story:
The masks rarely haunt his dreams the way some other terrors do, but when Cullen finds himself surrounded he feels a sickening flush all the same. Pounding nausea, which only feeds on the distortion of- everything. His last visit to Orlais was not too long before Wonderland took him, but this is a different occasion. A glimpse into a different time, when Thedas was still in greater turmoil, though it takes some cautious observations and inquiries to discover as much. A false home at a false time, perhaps the true Orlesian court would fawn over such a thorough farce.
I. Investigation
[ Private rooms, empty corridors, closed-off wings, anyplace that is just a little or a lot off-limits. ]
In the beginning Cullen wonders if they could just leave, and crosses the gardens with half a mind to do so. But the world he sees through golden bars seems- dark, ominous, even by day, and a cold wave of dread accompanies the thought of being cast beyond the palace gates. Is that the unease of a mission left unfulfilled? Or does Wonderland simply want them to stay and play?
No matter. There must be more discover than an escape route, of that he is sure.
Unfortunately his command of stealth manoeuvres only takes him so far, surrounded by masked eyes hungering for their brand of entertainment, and Maker knows what else. It takes time, but eventually he finds excuses. Wrong turns which happen to lead him the way he wants to go, curiosity about the Orlesian splendour which he wields to gain access to areas that might not otherwise host him. He grits his teeth and plays lost when his presence is questioned, and seems Ferelden enough that the excuse is permitted (if not approved of).
Eventually he has seen and heard enough. Not the entire palace, not every story, but... enough to know that there is no sign of the threats they faced here at home. No treacherous Duchess to plunge the Empire into chaos on Corypheus' behalf, and even if there was, what harm would the collapse of a false empire do in the span of a mere few days? No, this must be something else. But what?
Over the remaining days Cullen no longer tries to escape the main celebration quite so fervently, though at times people might still catch him disappear behind a door or corner not meant for members of the common public - let alone the Inquisition.
II. Briefing
[ On the sidelines, in dark corners, in people's guest rooms, anywhere members of the Inquisition can get a moment of privacy. ]
At first he thinks that all of them are trapped in the Winter Palace, and that the nobles who surround them are little more than masked puppets devoid of soul, which, for many, holds true enough. For some real Orlesians at home it does too, arguably. But some of the game's players, Cullen comes to find, were simply not lucky enough to hold on to their true memories in the transition (though by accident or design he couldn't yet say).
He deliberates the merit of bringing them to their senses, but ultimately his priority lies with the ones who understand how little of this is real. Who might benefit from additional information, even if his knowledge does not go as deep as he would like.
Still, he finds the ones who wear the Inquisition's colours. Pulls them aside where others cannot listen, asks to speak to them privately for a moment. Sometimes he passes the information to a single person, sometimes he catches a small group. He repeats the story as many times as needed, and though some of the words change, the general idea is always this:
"This is my world, at least some part of it. Apparently some of us still remember that this is only a farce, but others are not so lucky. They think this is their home, that they have a stake in the outcome of Orlesian politics. They also believe we are members of the Inquisition, which- was true for me, at the time."
Until his second visit saw the Inquisition disbanded. His voice carries the weighty memory, at least the first time he tells it.
"Several years ago we had to protect the Empress - or at least her empire - during this masquerade. We needed Orlais stable and ready to assist against a much greater threat, Celene's- the Empress' assassination could have prevented just that, at least without the culprit exposed. I... cannot say if any of the girls are in danger too, or if it even matters if they are, but so far I have found no signs of that. Still, if you can, perhaps watch out for them."
He pauses, briefly.
"And watch your own back as well. Orlesian politics can be- ruthless, and for better or worse we are currently involved in them. Several aspects of this event are not how I remember the time, but if you have questions, then I will do my best to answer."
III. Celebration
[ In the main hall, in the ballroom, anyplace the party action is at. ]
He looks for familiar faces in the crowd. Not people of Wonderland, but-- Cullen sighs. They are not here, none of them are. He knows that it is for the better, but, Maker, Leliana, Josephine, this is your battlefield, not his.
He knows that he will have to join the festivities eventually, that he might stand a chance of gathering information here, but how did their Lady Ambassador put it again? Every word, every gesture is measured and evaluated for weakness. Cullen leaves them as little to evaluate as he can, and keeps to the sidelines in silence, but even there their looks find him... and sometimes a stray conversation does, too.
"No, he does not know so-and-so from Kirkwall; no, he does not want to try the ham; no, he does not care to dance."
After a while he hears himself rattle off the same phrases over and over, a distant echo reaching someplace outside his own body.
And after a while longer his eyes wander, the look behind them just a little too pleading, just a little too desperate for some excuse that will call him away.
IV. Respite
[ In a distant corner of the palace gardens, very late evening, third day. ]
The evening of the third day arrives, and formalties be damned.
Nearly three days without some world-shattering incident, nor even a trace of it.
(Rumours of other incidents here and there, some louder than others, and by now Cullen suspects that Wonderland only wishes to provide a venue to pit them against each other.)
The sky is dark, but Cullen steals away into the gardens all the same.
He finds a bench long abandoned, a corner the torches no longer touch, and sinks down against the cool stone. From inside the masquerade buzzes like a nest of hornets, but the gardens are blissfully quiet.
He looks up at the night sky. Did it get their stars right, he wonders....
A rustle in the bushes.
Not the wind.
Cullen's hand wanders to the dagger at his belt.
"Who is it?"
V. Miscellany
[ Anything goes! From his own guest room over the buffet tables to the empty wing currently undergoing renovations, Cullen will probably show up just about anywhere at least once, so toss in whatever starter you like! Both prose and comment spam is a+, please take your pick!
My plotting post if you want a quick way to hash out details. ]
Where: The Winter Palace
When: 07/21 - 07/23
Rating: PG-13 (barring unforseen The-Grand-Game-ing)
Summary: There is something to be said for Wonderland's ability to turn the Orlesian court into an even bigger farce than usual, though the words are not kind by any stretch. Cullen tries to hold on to his wits and life all the same.
The Story:
The masks rarely haunt his dreams the way some other terrors do, but when Cullen finds himself surrounded he feels a sickening flush all the same. Pounding nausea, which only feeds on the distortion of- everything. His last visit to Orlais was not too long before Wonderland took him, but this is a different occasion. A glimpse into a different time, when Thedas was still in greater turmoil, though it takes some cautious observations and inquiries to discover as much. A false home at a false time, perhaps the true Orlesian court would fawn over such a thorough farce.
I. Investigation
[ Private rooms, empty corridors, closed-off wings, anyplace that is just a little or a lot off-limits. ]
In the beginning Cullen wonders if they could just leave, and crosses the gardens with half a mind to do so. But the world he sees through golden bars seems- dark, ominous, even by day, and a cold wave of dread accompanies the thought of being cast beyond the palace gates. Is that the unease of a mission left unfulfilled? Or does Wonderland simply want them to stay and play?
No matter. There must be more discover than an escape route, of that he is sure.
Unfortunately his command of stealth manoeuvres only takes him so far, surrounded by masked eyes hungering for their brand of entertainment, and Maker knows what else. It takes time, but eventually he finds excuses. Wrong turns which happen to lead him the way he wants to go, curiosity about the Orlesian splendour which he wields to gain access to areas that might not otherwise host him. He grits his teeth and plays lost when his presence is questioned, and seems Ferelden enough that the excuse is permitted (if not approved of).
Eventually he has seen and heard enough. Not the entire palace, not every story, but... enough to know that there is no sign of the threats they faced here at home. No treacherous Duchess to plunge the Empire into chaos on Corypheus' behalf, and even if there was, what harm would the collapse of a false empire do in the span of a mere few days? No, this must be something else. But what?
Over the remaining days Cullen no longer tries to escape the main celebration quite so fervently, though at times people might still catch him disappear behind a door or corner not meant for members of the common public - let alone the Inquisition.
II. Briefing
[ On the sidelines, in dark corners, in people's guest rooms, anywhere members of the Inquisition can get a moment of privacy. ]
At first he thinks that all of them are trapped in the Winter Palace, and that the nobles who surround them are little more than masked puppets devoid of soul, which, for many, holds true enough. For some real Orlesians at home it does too, arguably. But some of the game's players, Cullen comes to find, were simply not lucky enough to hold on to their true memories in the transition (though by accident or design he couldn't yet say).
He deliberates the merit of bringing them to their senses, but ultimately his priority lies with the ones who understand how little of this is real. Who might benefit from additional information, even if his knowledge does not go as deep as he would like.
Still, he finds the ones who wear the Inquisition's colours. Pulls them aside where others cannot listen, asks to speak to them privately for a moment. Sometimes he passes the information to a single person, sometimes he catches a small group. He repeats the story as many times as needed, and though some of the words change, the general idea is always this:
"This is my world, at least some part of it. Apparently some of us still remember that this is only a farce, but others are not so lucky. They think this is their home, that they have a stake in the outcome of Orlesian politics. They also believe we are members of the Inquisition, which- was true for me, at the time."
Until his second visit saw the Inquisition disbanded. His voice carries the weighty memory, at least the first time he tells it.
"Several years ago we had to protect the Empress - or at least her empire - during this masquerade. We needed Orlais stable and ready to assist against a much greater threat, Celene's- the Empress' assassination could have prevented just that, at least without the culprit exposed. I... cannot say if any of the girls are in danger too, or if it even matters if they are, but so far I have found no signs of that. Still, if you can, perhaps watch out for them."
He pauses, briefly.
"And watch your own back as well. Orlesian politics can be- ruthless, and for better or worse we are currently involved in them. Several aspects of this event are not how I remember the time, but if you have questions, then I will do my best to answer."
III. Celebration
[ In the main hall, in the ballroom, anyplace the party action is at. ]
He looks for familiar faces in the crowd. Not people of Wonderland, but-- Cullen sighs. They are not here, none of them are. He knows that it is for the better, but, Maker, Leliana, Josephine, this is your battlefield, not his.
He knows that he will have to join the festivities eventually, that he might stand a chance of gathering information here, but how did their Lady Ambassador put it again? Every word, every gesture is measured and evaluated for weakness. Cullen leaves them as little to evaluate as he can, and keeps to the sidelines in silence, but even there their looks find him... and sometimes a stray conversation does, too.
"No, he does not know so-and-so from Kirkwall; no, he does not want to try the ham; no, he does not care to dance."
After a while he hears himself rattle off the same phrases over and over, a distant echo reaching someplace outside his own body.
And after a while longer his eyes wander, the look behind them just a little too pleading, just a little too desperate for some excuse that will call him away.
IV. Respite
[ In a distant corner of the palace gardens, very late evening, third day. ]
The evening of the third day arrives, and formalties be damned.
Nearly three days without some world-shattering incident, nor even a trace of it.
(Rumours of other incidents here and there, some louder than others, and by now Cullen suspects that Wonderland only wishes to provide a venue to pit them against each other.)
The sky is dark, but Cullen steals away into the gardens all the same.
He finds a bench long abandoned, a corner the torches no longer touch, and sinks down against the cool stone. From inside the masquerade buzzes like a nest of hornets, but the gardens are blissfully quiet.
He looks up at the night sky. Did it get their stars right, he wonders....
A rustle in the bushes.
Not the wind.
Cullen's hand wanders to the dagger at his belt.
"Who is it?"
V. Miscellany
[ Anything goes! From his own guest room over the buffet tables to the empty wing currently undergoing renovations, Cullen will probably show up just about anywhere at least once, so toss in whatever starter you like! Both prose and comment spam is a+, please take your pick!
My plotting post if you want a quick way to hash out details. ]