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

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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.

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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. ]

[ Lasulahn gasps as Wrathion's arm clutches about his waist, pulls him - to safety.

He stares in surprise, for just a moment, looking between the spike that would have certainly impaled him, and his new companion. ]

Thank you, [ he says, breathless, and then nods his reassurance before the other returns to the fray. He's not entirely sure what to think of that wink, but he keeps his focus.

Dorian moves to assist Sera and Varric in their defense against the rest of the Red Templars, and soon there is panicked shouting as each of the abominations appear to lose their wits, either frozen still or rushing about. One even strikes his fellow. Sera cackles, calling something smart over her shoulder to the mage.

Lasulahn focuses on the behemoth with the rest of his party. The tortured beast was perhaps immune to the elements and the effects of them, but it was not immune to the Fade itself. The Anchor sparks with magic, and the Veil shimmers briefly in the air, a rift forming and drawing the behemoth to it, immobilizing it enough for the opportunity of a critical strike to finally kill it. ]

[ And who should appear...

He wastes no time with the opportunity given, having just avoided a swing of the monster's arm, skidding to a halt on one knee and glancing up, just as the crackle of green energy seems to split the fabric of this realm around the creature. Pushing off against the ground, he lunges, daggers bared...

And both sink into the thing's chest, ripping downwards with effort as red lyrium spits in all directions. It's like trying to carve through crystal, and one of the blades actually snaps off before he's done, but the other manages to rip down to the beast's midsection before he pulls free, leaving it to struggle as it gargles its last. ]

[ Watching from where he is, it's clear that Wrathion is talented. More than that, he seems to work well with the others, able to step in where others are not without getting in the way. It could be that the others are all already used to working in this group, and that another member is merely something to work around, but-

Lasulahn doesn't have time to wonder. They move on, and Lasulahn gives Sera an amused but sympathetic look as she jerks an arrow from one of the dead Red Templar bodies, and grumbles to find it broken before tossing it aside.

There atop Suledin Keep awaits a rather unassuming looking man. His immediate response is not to attack, but rather? To try and negotiate. He offers Lasulahn virgins, riches, power.

And then? With a knowing smirk, his eyes slide up the elf's form in an almost crude manner, focusing finally on the vallaslin tattooed across his brow.

"No? Hmn. What about your people?" he asks lightly. Tension settles into the Inquisitor's shoulders. ]

What about them?

[ Imshael affects a theatrical sort of expression, feigning empathy. "They go through so much, don't they? And now that you're Inquisitor, why- you're the most talked about man in all of Thedas. Imagine the attention that brings to them. A target for all those unhappy with your.... appointment. What about a place, just for them? Where they can be free, and happy, and safe? I could give them that." ]

Can he. Sounds too good to be true.

[ This from Wrathion, standing near the back. He's got no say in what the Inquisitor does, but he knows a thing or two about eldritch beings who promise your greatest desires in exchange for power, freedom to do as they will, and sacrifices in their name.

This thing is seeking to use Lasulahn, no doubt about it. But will the elf fall victim? It's true his people have suffered much. He has every reason to want to help them.

But the road to Hell, as they say... ]

[ Always, humans have sought to subjugate them. To manipulate them, to use them as chattel. Things. Even now, for Imshael to use Lasulahn's people as pawns...

The elf's jaw tightens, and he lifts his staff in front of him in defiance.

Imshael sighs, throwing up his hand in a dramatic display of exasperation.

"As you wish."

There is an unearthly screech, and Imshael's human form is gone, replaced with a ghastly visage with sharp appendages like that of a spider's legs. A fear demon. But Imshael is not the only foe they face. Red Templar horrors surge forth, and fearlings. Glaring at the grotesque form, Lasulahn slams the tip of his staff to the stone floor, supplying magic shield to each of his companions as they rush forward to meet their enemies .]

[ And Imshael is not the only one with a transformation in his back pocket. Here, there is enough room to spread his wings. ]

Let me deal with the little ones.

[ Once again that smoke swirls around him, and in his place the dragon takes form. Spreading his wings, he takes to the skies, his roar echoing against the stones, before he takes to the air. A deep breath, and fire spews forth against the red templars swarming to surround the demon in defense. Scorching the ground, he circles the courtyard, as the archer arrows bounce off his scales.

They still fire, of course, seeking to down the airborne assault. Most the arrows ping harmlessly away. But one lucky shot finds its mark, sinking just between the layer of armor, and Wrathion snarls in pain and rage as it sinks deep into his flesh. But the offending archer has only moments to savor victory before he lands before them, claws, lashing out to crush them against the nearby rubble. ]

[ Varric and Sera separate the Red Templars from Imshael with traps and grenade (and one might notice the strangely out of place but distinct sound of angry... bees?) before leaving the rest to Wrathion.

Imshael seems determined to get to the Inquisitor, but the warriors are swift in their defense. Still, that leaves Lasulahn with little room to move. If he comes from behind the defensive line, Imshael will only turn for him. So when he hears that roar, and his gaze snaps to the dragon to find an arrow in his hide, he can only call out. ] Wrathion!

[ When the form of fear fails, the demon shifts to rage. — A choice that Vivienne seems all too pleased to declare a poor choice. The mages' ice slows the demon's form, and provides Lasulahn the opportunity to move quickly and check on his new friend.

A fearling scuttles across the floor towards him, and Lasulahn proves swiftly that he is not helpless on his own. The lesser demon crosses a glyph, and promptly bursts into flames. He ensures it is quite dead first, glances for any more immediate threats, then looks to Wrathion. ] Are you alright?

A scratch, nothing more.

[ He seems more offended than hurt, tail lashing behind him as he turns to regard an oncoming handful of templars. And then his tail swings in earnest, sending three of them flying with a hearty 'smack'.

That massive head turns back towards Lasulahn, eyes burning bright. It's a little harder to tell what expression he has in this form, a reptilian countenance showing little in the way of emotion, but safe to say he's more annoyed than anything. ]

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