bakerstreet | the i n s o m n i a meme

Entry tags:

[meme] gen

the i n s o m n i a meme

the i n s o m n i a meme

It happens to everyone - sometimes, you have nights where you just can't fall asleep, no matter what you do. It could be for a number of reasons, or no reason at all. And this is what's happened now: you've been laying in bed for what feels like hours, just tossing and turning, and nothing seems to help. So what's left to do? Get out of bed and go wake someone else up, of course. If you're not getting any sleep, then why should they?

i n s t r u c t i o n s

• Post with your character (note the name and fandom in the subject).
• Other people reply to you by generating a number from 1 to 10.
• Have fun!

o p t i o n s

01 • FEAR. Maybe you're hearing strange, indeterminable noises; maybe there's a severe storm happening outside; maybe you watched a scary movie before bed? Whatever the reason, you're terrified and it's keeping you awake. You just want to wake someone else up so they can protect you from the monster in your closet.
02 • HUNGER. Your stomach is growling and it just won't stop. Or perhaps your throat is so dry you could cough up a tumbleweed? Well, you've gone to the kitchen to remedy this and hey, that was a pan that just dropped on the floor. It was loud enough to wake the dead! Oops.
03 • PAIN. Your body is completely worn out, be it from exercise, battle, sickness, or what have you. Either way you're in enough pain to keep you from sleeping, so maybe someone else has a home remedy or something, or can at least help you take your mind off of it.
04 • SOLITUDE. For some reason, your bed just feels so empty at the moment. You're feeling terribly lonely and really just want someone to keep you company for a while. Maybe it'd be easier to fall asleep if you're with them...
05 • DISCOMFORT. Your room is an oven. Either that or a freezer. Or maybe this bed is just really uncomfortable? Who knows why you can't get to sleep, it feels like it could be anything. Why even bother trying? Maybe someone else can preoccupy you until you feel tired enough to ignore your discomfort.
06 • PENSIVE. Something's on your mind, and no matter how hard you try to focus elsewhere, it's just not going to work. Your body may be tired, but your mind is incredibly busy and it's virtually impossible to get to sleep. Surely, talking it out with someone else will help?
07 • SADNESS. Something terrible has happened that day, perhaps; or you could just be severely depressed. Either way you're trying your hardest not to cry yourself to sleep, and it's not working at all. Better find a way to get it out of your system somehow; you need a shoulder to cry on.
08 • ANGER. You are just... fuming. Who knows why - that annoying dog is barking again, or maybe the people next door are getting busy and keeping you awake. Whatever the reason for your ire is, you'd better put an end to it so you can get some damn rest already! Go wake up a friend so you can complain to them.
09 • RESTLESS. You're far too energetic to sleep right now. Maybe you're just trying to do so out of necessity - you have to be up early tomorrow! But you just don't think you'll be able to fall asleep for a while now, so why waste the time trying to sleep when you could be doing something else? Namely bothering someone else - you're totally jealous because they're getting more sleep than you.
10 • WILDCARD. Choose one of the options above, or make up your own scenario.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

Not a scratch.

[ A cocky grin hitches into place, though his eyes linger for a moment on the elf. Managing to shield all of them like that is no small feat. There's good reason they all seem to follow Lasulahn's lead, and it's more than his calm and resolute demeanor.

There's a great deal of power in him. That...that may present opportunities later.

But for now, focus remains on breaking through to the inner parts of the keep. Arching an eyebrow, he looks to the largest of their number -- Bull, was it? -- and gestures broadly at the doors. ]

If you'd be so kind.

[ Lasulahn sighs softly in relief. He has grown accustomed to the number of companions he has - an extra, particularly one that fights within melee range, is something that will take time to adjust. For such a brief scuffle, he wouldn't normally be out of breath.

He looks to Bull, and the door, weak as it looks. The Qunari swings his arms back, ready to strike with his axe, and Lasulahn finds himself holding his breath.

The door gives way in a shower of splinters and broken, rotted planks. Cassandra and Blackwall are the first through, shields up, and Lasulahn follows close behind into the courtyard. ]

[ Wrathion, for his part, keeps low. In fact he seems to meld into the shadows as he darts under the ramparts and pillars, keeping an eye open for any templars lingering the corners, waiting to ambush their fellows and ah...

There's one with a rather large greatsword eyeballing their stalwart leader, as they proceed into the keep. Before he can lunge at Lasulahn however, he suddenly chokes on the blade extruding from his throat, reddened eyes bulging.

Wrathion slips the blade free with a brief salute before heading off again, and the templar slumps face-first into the snow. ]

[ The gate leads to a winding outer path, and as they tentatively make their way past strange cages, all empty, Lasulahn realizes he's lost sight of his new companion—

Finds him again a few moments later by the sound of a gurgle and subsequent heavy clank and thud.

More Red Templars meet them at a staircase, two at the foot and an archer atop. Though the companions seem to form something of an instinctive circle around the Herald, an arrow narrowly misses him. Solas shields their position as Lasulahn focuses on Cole and the warriors up front. ]

[ Meanwhile, Wrathion is sticking to the plan. Clear the ramparts. Slay the archers.

And he cuts a bloody path through them with his blades, lifted up as though on wings before darting forward with inhuman speed. It's not a matter of showing off to his new allies -- although he'd rarely spare the opportunity -- but rather cutting down their numbers as efficiently as possible. They don't have time to wonder where he even came from before he's making the expert cuts of a trained rogue, through the weakest points in their armor.

Just like Fahrad had taught him. ]

[ Keeping an eye on Cole is difficult, but the spirit rarely needed protecting anyway. Keeping an eye on Wrathion seems suddenly almost as troublesome. When had he— ?

Lasulahn casts a shield for the dragon, as little as he seems to need it. Perhaps it will serve for a while, without blows to test it. The stairs clear (save for corpses now, one of which Bull casually shoves off the side with his foot), the party ascends to find the next group waiting for them. ]

[ With the ramparts clear, they will at least have an easier time pressing on without having to worry about arrows in their backs.

Wrathion continues on his way, along the upper walkways of the keep, keeping low and watching out for anything trying to get the drop on them from above. But the next courtyard seems clear...

Until he sees the massive figures waiting almost in stupor on the path ahead.

Leaping downward with a grunt, he moves towards the main group. ]

Inquisitor. We've got very large friends waiting ahead of us. Perhaps there is opportunity here to lure them into a trap, rather than walking into one of theirs.

[ It seems eerily quiet. Lasulahn knows they've made great strides in breaking the Red Templar stranglehold on the region, but this cannot be all of them. Michel had said shades were headed for Sahrnia, nothing else. So then...?

He rushes forward to meet Wrathion, brow furrowing in concern. ] Red Templar Horrors, or something else? [ Small as Wrathion is now (compared to his dragon form, anyway), Lasulahn doesn't imagine that he might use 'very large' to describe horrors. Is there something else the Red Templars have managed to disfigure into? ]

Bigger. Larger than an ogre, even. Though I wasn't close enough to get a decent look at it, I did see this same red lyrium substance nearby.

[ So it might be safe to assume whatever it is? It's on the side of the templars, and likely to simply attack them if they get too close. But whether or not it knows they're here is another question. ]</small. There's a cluster of tents up ahead. As well as what appear to be holding cells...what shall we do?

[ Lasulahn has not yet seen the darkspawn ogres for himself, and assumes that is what he means. Still, he knows they are quite tall...

"Giants," Bull grumbles, though in the next moment the Qunari grins and swings his axe onto his shoulder. His suggestion is just taking it head on, but the disapproval from several - most notable Cassandra and Solas - earns a sigh. ]

I- [ Lasulahn swallows, glancing between his fellows. He is growing more used to taking lead as is expected of him, though it is not always very easy. He forges ahead. ]

I think I can hold one, with the Anchor. Solas - can you bolster your magic with mine? And Dorian, Vivienne, if you can focus on numbing it with ice, that will give Cole and Wrathion chance to sever tendons. Don't panic it, Dorian. Any of us could be crushed under foot if it berserks.

Cassandra, Blackwall, set up a line to defend the mages and archers and keep its attention - Bull, take a position to the back in case it comes for the line. Varric, Sera, I'll depend on you to aim for it's vulnerabilities in its throat, eyes. [ It occurs to him, even though he knows this is an enemy, that it sounds cruel. But giants, if that's what this enemy is, are dangerous enough already. If it has been tainted, corrupted by the Red Lyrium.

He looks to Wrathion, Cole, and Sera in turn. ] You three are most fleet of foot... can you draw it towards us? Be careful, break away if it comes too close. If it fails, we can fall back again. Watch that it doesn't throw anything.

Naturally. Shall we then?

[ Wrathion turns towards the two Lasulahn had mentioned -- the odd youth in the too-large hat and the disheveled-looking elf girl -- and nods in the direction he'd seen the creature. While Sera tries to peer ahead first, Cole seems to be staring at Wrathion with those strange milky eyes of his. ]

...Three hearts. But two stopped beating. You remember what it felt like when they took them apart to put you together, and you smile when you're sad because they shouldn't get to know.

[ Wrathion's cocky expression flickers for a moment. ]

I beg your pardon?

[ With a sigh, Sera pops back up again, giving Cole a disgusted look and rolling her eyes. ]

Don't mind him when he does that weird spirit shite. Just ignore 'im. He'll bother someone else eventually. Now c'mon! Bad guys aren't going to shank themselves. Too easy, that.

[ With a last dubious look at Cole, the three of them proceed onwards, in the direction he'd last seen the giant beast. ]

[ He takes point for the rest of his companions, close enough that he hears the words of the spirit. Quiet, he listens. He knows that Cole means well, wishes to help, but does not know the nuance of time or place. But before he can offer a gentler explanation than Sera's, the three are off. He stands at the bottom of the upward slope, gaze flickering to the cages that line the wall, mouth drawn in a tight line.

Idly, he wonders what it meant, the three hearts. Had Wrathion lost someone? Parents, family perhaps? It is not his place to ask, but he thinks he might later offer an ear anyway.

The rumble of whatever the enemy is - and it is a giant, causes the ground to tremble. Nervousness grips Lasulahn, and he worries for his companions out of sight. Cassandra and Blackwall line together in front of him, shields forward and blades at the ready. Bull circles to the side, and Lasulahn can tell by his expression, even at a distance, and the way his head tips back to take in their enemy, that it must be a giant. ]

[ It is absolutely a giant.

And it is not happy.

Thankfully, it's slow. Unfortunately, it makes up for gaps in distance by reaching down for chunks of snow-covered rubble to hurl at the rogues making their escape. One manages to land in front of them just as they're nearly within sight of the party, and the spray of snow flies up in a mist that clouds their visibility for a moment.

Sera says something creative and likely biologically impossible the giant can go do instead, before firing off an arrow at the creature's eyes. Wrathion gestures for Cole to go before reaching a hand down to help Sera over the newly-formed obstacle in their path. They manage to leap off and tumble to the other side just as the giant smashes its huge fists down against the stone, with a force that shakes the ground around them. ]

I don't think he's very pleased with us, at the moment!

[ But it affords them time to split off, move to the side to let it pass towards the bulk of their party. Now they just need to wait, to let it move far enough to expose the weaker portions of its legs. Where the odd boy has gone to, he's not certain.

There are going to be questions about him. Later. ]

[ Solas and Lasulahn both lift their staves to shield their companions from the spray of snow and rubble. Cassandra and Blackwall both raise their shields, shouting their cries for the giant's attention.

It swings and lumbers towards them, and the Inquisitor draws a deep breath. The Anchor sparks and glows, and green wisps coalesce in the air, crackling with magic. A rift, like those that had sprung up all over Thedas, though smaller. It grows, though, and the giant stops, as though unable to progress. It roars, and Lasulahn thinks it sounds pained. The Red Lyrium jutting from its skin seems a likelier culprit than arrow.

The giant leans, tugging as though to pull away from Lasulahn's magic entirely, and his eyes widen in a moment of fear. Solas' own rift magic joins the Inquisitor, then, and the giant lurches, held once again in place. Frost crackles from the other mages, crawling up the beast's limbs. ]

[ Meanwhile, with its attention almost entirely on the fore, the rogues move in. Sera lines up another shot, as Wrathion and Cole move closer, blades at the ready. The tendons along the calf and the back of the knee make for excellent targets, though the hide is thick. It doesn't break easily.

So Wrathion gives his a little more bite, the metal heating in his grip as he digs in and tears downward, earning a howl of fury and anguish from the beast. It's hardly its fault, he thinks, but as corrupted as it is bringing it down will be a mercy without question.

First, they need to bring it closer to the ground. ]

[ The howl is saddening, in a way, but Lasulahn knows they must fight. If they do not stop this here, now, who knows what damage it will wreak.

Between Cole and Wrathion, the giant staggers. The Iron Bull seems to have the same idea as Wrathion, and circles to the front of it. He slings a chain that catches. He heaves, but even a Qunari's warrior's strength is little match for a Red Lyrium addled giant. Blackwall breaks line to assist. That does little.

Lasulahn lets go of the rift, and shift his spell. A great spectral force slams down onto the giant's back. It stumbles, but still, somehow, does not fall. ]

[ If all that won't bring the thing down...

This particular part of the keep might have enough clearance. Might. It's a risk, but they need to bring this thing down one way or another, and right now it looks like it might be another. Clucking his tongue, Wrathion draws back, earning a shout from Sera to ask where he was going.

The answer is up.

Leaping into the air, the man's figure disappears in a swirl of flame and ash. Moments later something much larger comes crashing through, the dragon's claws digging into the giant's back and dropping all of his weight down onto it. As the giant finally topples with a roar, it reaches back to seize hold of black scales, but as soon as it does that same strange smoke dissolves the figure away.

Wrathion leaps back to disengage, landing on the snow covered stones, brushing himself off lightly while the brute lands face-first at the feet of the rest of the party. ]

Well? What are you waiting for?

[ Some of the party's reaction is only a startled glance in the moment of battle. A couple stare. Cole seems not to have noticed, closing in for the kill.

Lasulahn looks for only a moment - the sight is awing, even a second time, but he must remain focused.

Sera tears her gaze away long enough to notice a small group of Red Templars coming for them. She calls a warning, and as the warriors fall upon the addled giant, Cole seems to disappear altogether - only to reappear when a Templar marksman falls forward, blood spilling from their neck. ]

[ Quite skilled with a blade, no matter how odd his banter. Wrathion gives him a nod before moving to dispatch those that remain. Slipping in amongst their ranks, weaving and darting, they're hard-pressed to get a lock on the slippery rogue before they're all spilling red across the snow.

Blood and lyrium alike.

The ambush handled, he turns back towards the giant, and the rest of their party. To Lasulahn, who was on the back lines last he saw, but exerting himself magnificently just the same. ]

[ The giant, finally, lies dead. Their party regathers and continues. Another giant, infected, already lays dead further along. Varric mutters something incredulous beneath his breath about monsters.

Sera climbs a broken section of wall, and peeks over top. She motions frantically to the party to halt, and drops back down. "There's another group of baddies up there. There's two of the big mean ones, with the red lyrium everywhere. But look, there's two ways to get up to them. If we go around, we can take 'em by surprise, yeah?"

Horrors, then.

Lasulahn fishes in a small pack beneath his cloak, and uncorks a vial of the blue liquid he had giving Wrathion the night before. He looks tired, and the Anchor on his hand pulses for the use of strong magics. The way he holds it just so suggests that it pains him, but he makes no complaint. ]

We'll go around, then. Sera, did you see any other Templars on the route there? [ The archer shakes her head. Lasulahn nods his understanding. Vivienne interjects. "Inquisitor, if I may." Another nod as he turns to the Enchantress. She suggests a storm of magic to catch the horrors off guard, and Lasulahn is inclined to agree with her. If they catch them off-guard, none of the melee-range companions will be in the way of friendly fire.

So they divert down a side path, and it is strangely devoid of Templars, just as Sera had said. Where were they all?

At the top of the set of stairs, the group of Red Templars awaits, unaware. One turns, spots the party - but it is too late. Thunder rumbles from Vivienne, fire from Dorian and the Inquisitor, and the screams echo across the battlements. ]

[ It's an impressive display. All three seem to be in their element, channeling the energy through whatever Veil keeps the magic from existing freely in this world, forming it and forcing it to their will with an adeptness that is startling and -- dare he say -- beautiful to behold.

But he'd seen that grimace of pain from Lasulahn as well. He won't call him out in front of his people, but perhaps he should keep a closer eye on him. Just in case.

Why? What should it matter to him? In the grand scheme of things, he's a single denizen of a world not his own. It shouldn't matter. Yet to say so even to himself tastes of a lie. Grumbling to himself, he moves back up to where the ramparts overlook the next open area, the better to spy what lies ahead. ]

[ Lasulahn pauses to check on each of the mages within their party, ensuring they're still supplied with lyrium potions and not winded. Vivienne assures him with easy words, Dorian takes the opportunity for a mild gripe that seems more playful than anything. Solas merely nods with a murmur of 'lethallin'.

They are nearing the top, where Imshael awaits them (according to de Chevin), but ahead of the demon is a large group of Red Templars. Among them, a behemoth: a large, twisted monster that is more red lyrium than anything else, recognizable, just barely, as having once been human.

And this time, they have little time to plan. The behemoth seems to know the party is there, and charges for them with a roar that sounds more of agony than anything. ]

[ Tragic as it is, the kindest thing they can do is put the monstrosity and its ilk down.

Rather than let the beast crash into their front line unabated, Wrathion draws up a hand in a swift motion. The fire that crawls in his veins, down to his molten core, comes when called to his hand, and a moment later there's a burst of flame that lands at the behemoth's feet to slow its charge.

Not waiting to see what the party thinks of his little trick, he motions to Sera and Cole before closing in. Something that big is going to be slow, but hard-hitting. Getting around at its back at before is a little more trouble, with all the red lyrium jutting out like an armor of spikes, but they don't have much choice.

Whatever is exposed needs to be hit, and hit hard. Now. ]

[ Varric and Sera manage to get between the behemoth and the rest of the Templars. Normally it would be best to take out the weaker enemies first, but the behemoth is already in their midst. In a flurry of alchemic grenade, trap and arrow, the rest will be delayed, at least temporarily, and the party is free to deal with the behemoth.

The mages, for this fight, have little use. Paralyzing lightning, fear spells, and slowing ice, are all utterly ineffective. As though that were not enough, the warrior's blows seem to glance off uselessly. Even Bull with his great axe manages only to chip off a tiny spray of crystallized red lyrium.

Lasulahn rushes to find a better vantage, and stops short to see the ground seeming to bubble strangely. Red flecks lay in a circle around the behemoth but then - ]

Get away!

[ The Inquisitor outstretches his staff, a glyph encircling his companions to shield them, as red lyrium bursts from the ground in jagged crystals. ]

[ But does he see the bubbling beneath his own feet?

Wrathion can't be sure, but he isn't taking any chances. As the protective shields are cast he darts forward. Under the behemoth's arm, sliding across the icy ground before his arm catches around Lasulahn's waist, spinning him about like a dancer on the floor of the Winter Palace...

Just in time to avoid one of those gory red spikes suddenly jutting out of the stone. ]

Keeping me on my toes, are we?

[ He huffs, winks, and returns to the fray. Nothing to do but beat this thing's guard down, chip away at it bit by bit, and try to keep its focus long enough to prevent another sudden explosion. ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject