Real & Half-Real: Chapter 1 - The Portal and the Plan

[unsheathedfromreality]

Who: The Committee to Rescue Illarion from His Very Stupid Mistake
What: Building a portal to bust into a pocket dimension and strategizing what to do once they get there. All extremely advisable science.
When: Early-mid April
Where: Throughout Trench, and in parts beyond it

It's been weeks since Illarion's disappearance in the fight against Leviathan, and scarcely fewer weeks since his Omen Iskierka began papering Trench with notes on his whereabouts. The shrike's friends and loved ones have not been idle during that time, and now their plans begin coming to fruition.

It's time to get him out of the nightmare he's trapped in--but first, they've got to break their way in, and they've got to have a plan.

[[ Part of the Real & Half-Real player plot! Navigate to other plot posts: [OOC] Interest Check | [IC] Prologue | [IC] Iskierka's Notes ]]

Comments

[cryptograms]

Ortus sure is... florid in his descriptions, isn't he? Ford actually doesn't mind a bit of verbal filigree where it fits, but in the middle of a construction project it just gets an arch of the brow in response.

But Ortus's musing hits closer to home than Ford is expecting. He's familiar with the concept of sacrificing a great deal of time, effort, and energy to rescue someone trapped on the other side of the portal, and well aware of the high cost such a mission can extract. Even knowing that the cost this time won't be nearly so high it's sobering to think about.

"I doubt you can call it one or the other when something like this is usually both."

Noble to make the sacrifice, and foolish to do so.

"The outcome that matters to those making the effort is whether or not he appreciates it."

[noniad]

Ford's brevity in turn earns a quirk of his eyebrows, although his shade more towards the thoughtful. He's accustomed to his musings being met with bafflement or annoyance, so that Ford listened and formed a response is already more than he was expecting.

But people here have often been surprising to him, to the extent that he finds himself increasingly less surprised. There is a level of tolerance extended to others that he supposes is a sensible local custom, considering.

"One would hope he does," Ortus agrees, mildly, "Though perhaps I show myself a hypocrite in thinking so. I was a laggard in my gratitude to those who sought to come to my aid when I was in peril."