abraxaslogs | Open Log + Closed Prompt

Entry tags:

Open Log + Closed Prompt

Who: Mat Cauthon, Jaskier, & Open
When: January
Where: Caste Thorne, Horizon
What: Late January catch-all with open and closed prompts
Warnings: Will add where needed

[OOC: Specific prompts in comments below! If you want to do something else, hit me up and I can throw up a starter! Or just toss one at me.]

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Make all the assurances you like, dear apprentice, because Jaskier still keeps his eyes firmly on the badger until it's toddled away far enough to put some distance between them. At least his own creatures have enough wit to not pester the beast, and they respect any guest Jaskier's welcomed onto his domain. Though he does see Moglad float down from the tree and with a curious kupo? try to seat himself on the saddle of the badger.

Ah. Well. Moglad often learns from hard lessons.

Jaskier turns his attention back to Mat, giving him a clap on the back as he invites him into the grand staircase of the tree. "If you play well enough, you can convince anyone that you are, indeed, a lord. In time." He laughs. "Keep in mind I feel the same. I've tutored often enough at my university, but I have missed having a dedicated pupil now that my last has... found other pursuits." Moglad is a dark knight now, whatever that means, but Jaskier can't complain because the moogle can still play a mean jig when he's in the mood. "Now, come upstairs and we'll get comfortable. I have a room set out for music already."

So he leads him up the stairwell as all matters of creatures flow through the air -- his bejeweled bees buzz up the spiral, and butterflies flutter through room to room, where patches of flowers appear to grow out of the very walls for them to drink from. On one of the middle levels is a room that opens out impossibly, half-roofed and half on a balcony that overhangs an enormous branch, with doors that can be slid closed between to keep the sound in. All along the walls are hanging instruments, with various drums tucked into the corner, and a stand with several different flutes. A violin stands on a windowsill, and all around the room are both messy and cleanly written musical notations. "Now, I believe we can start with a few interesting instruments. I am quite partial to the lute, so I did want to begin on strings." He pulls a long-necked theorbo from where it hangs. "What do you think? Too ostentatious?"

Luckily Moglad has nothing to fear from the gentle giant that is Hend the badger. Large and intimidating as he may be, his temperament is that of a well reared horse.

Mat follows, looking about impressed at what Jaskier's done with his domain. This is exactly the way to take advantage of this strange place that belongs to them and them alone. His expression of wonder only grows when they reach the music room.

"Blood and ashes!" He's never seen so many instruments in one place. Or...ever. Thom had only had the lute and the hand drum. And it isn't as though there were any real musicians in Emund's Field. A few folks could play a shepherd's pipe, or a simple stringed instrument, but that was about it.

"Look at it all...I didn't even know there were this many instruments..." He has lived, overall, a very sheltered life.

He eyes the thing Jaskier presents, and his heavy brows rise. That is a very big instrument. Of course with Mat's height and long limbs, that's not a problem, and it does look quite impressive but...

"I'm not sure about that, but it looks like a bitch to carry around and I am not a house musician. I need to learn something I can buy or make in Thorne and that travels easy. I'll be hauling it from castle to town and back three or four nights a week. Along with my clubs and throwing knives."

He thinks he could make one easy enough, the shape isn't a complex one. And he's never seen one before in Thorne, it'd be smart to have something unique.

"Here, let me see it."

Jaskier is already rather delighted by this whole thing -- he feels younger, invigorated by the chance to share his trade -- but Mat's reactions to things only make it a warmer moment. His surprise, his genuine curiousity. This poor man must've been living in poverty if this small collection is surprising.

Jaskier did not really have a place to settle, but if he ever had, this collection would be there with him. Probably much larger, if he could ensure the place would not be robbed within a week.

"This is only a small percentage of what my world has to offer for those musically inclined," he answers, though in truth, a few are instruments he's had Nadine show to him from her world. Things he asked after as they listened to music together on magical discs.

He tips his head. They're all right points. He only imagined that if he were in Thorne, there was not that much travel to do. Certainly not a trio of cities to cycle. "Don't feel married to it," he says, bringing over the theorbo in offering, with a twang of one long string. "This is mostly an exercise to see what you ultimately will be drawn to."

"To be honest, I don't know what half of these things even are." Mat takes the instrument with a shrug.

"Not exactly any trade for musical instruments in my village. A Gleeman would come round once sometimes twice a year maybe, and sometimes peddlers, but...still never saw more than a shepherd's pipe or a hand harp or lute till I left Emunds Field."

And there ends the list of instruments Mat is personally familiar with, outside of the drum. He's aware of others, he's read their names in books or glimpsed them, but that's about all. This thing, though...it's neat looking. And he thinks it probably suits him, as long and thin as he himself is. His fingers run over it curiously.

"We're shepherds and farmers, my people. Simple folk, small end of nowhere place, there's about...forty people in the village and woods around it." It's a rough estimate, but feels right following the attack during the spring festivities.

"I know there's plenty of instruments and musicians in Thorne, but I've been busy with my magic lessons and I haven't had any time to pursue either." Channeling hadn't come easy, once his ability had awoken. It's been a long road, but now...now he's made true progress, and isn't practicing all the damned time.

"Once or twice a year? Gods, my man. You were out in the middle of fucking nowhere." It sort of spills out in that thoughtless way of Jaskier's, and it's clear he's rather surprised -- if only because those without further exposure often do not have much talent themselves.

And because Jaskier traveled himself to some boring, out of the way places. Some nearly dead places, spotted only with one or two farmers and their broods. But still, he visited, cycling through if it was worth his time. Especially when he was younger.

Mat is a rough rock, to be sure. He can be polished over time. But it is that enthusiasm of his, if he can keep it, that will make the journey easier.

Jaskier stands back, watching him with the theorbo. There certainly seems to be interest there, even if Mat's already brought up its drawbacks. A farmer -- well, he would guess only from his wild, unkept hair. Thorne does spend some expenses providing its people some lovely perks.

"Magic lessons? With one of the mentors in the castle? Good. It's a good point to start from, if you're already in some sort of studies. I will say, especially in Thorne, the use of magic during performances was also very well received."

"Literal end of civilization," Mat clarifies. "Only thing beyond us is mountains too dangerous to venture into, let alone cross."

Emunds Field was the last stop. And very far flung from the next-to-last stop. There's no reason to venture out there for most folks. Just around festival time, when folks are likely to buy wares.

"And not with castle mages, my magic's not like the sort they practice in Thorne. No words or anything like that. The kind that just sort of happens when it's time to manifest itself. They were suspicious I had the ability back home, but it came out here. Couldn't control it at first. But there's two Summoned who's magic works the same, they teach me. I have it in hand now."

And is getting better all the time, now that he's worked through his mental block about it all. As he talks he continues to shift the theorbo in his grip, testing the feel of it, getting a sense of its weight and how to angle it comfortably.

"Been at it..shy of a year now, I think?"

Jaskier huffs in amusement. "Where I come from, we call it the Edge of the World." Fitting that he thought of it before Mat even said it. So he does know the sort. But he clearly is not an elf -- though perhaps his people were somewhat similar.

Or he could've just been real bloody poor.

Jaskier reaches over to adjust Mat's grip, shifting the theorbo's belly closer against his leg to balance it, making the grip more comfortable. He rubs his chin, stepping back. Funny. It does look like him a bit.

"It sounds similar to my sphere's Chaos. It's another word for magic, I suppose, but it works in a very specific way. The magic I gained here is similar. It simply works. When I need it to."

And he's quite proud of it, with how much work he's put into it. Like now, he offers a real manifestation of it: holding out a hand to Mat, a chickadee appears, peeping and hopping over the plane of Jaskier's hand. Of course he can make anything in the Horizon, but this is also his favorite little trick out of it, too. "What sort of things can you do? Not anything to help you learn a bit of music faster, I bet."

"Yeah! Channeling, chaos, magic...they're all words for the same things." And there's dozens others that Mat's heard. But Chaos is very familiar, both Yennefer and Istredd use that term. Might be one of the more common ones.

"Channeling the One Power is what we call it in my world. Because you channel it through you." Which is probably self explanatory. But he never knows, and it's easiest to just provide answers before they're asked.

He lets Jaskier adjust his position and the instrument's, nodding some as he gets a feel for how it's held. His long arms certainly give him an advantage with it. He's distracted for a moment by the sudden bird, grinning as he watches.

"But I mostly work with elements. Ice is my specialty, that comes easy and I can freeze all kinds of things. Sometimes even if they're hot. I can sort of change stuff, but not very much. And I've gotten a good hand on water."

Jaskier blinks. He's heard the term? Well, he supposes it's not that bizarre a concept for magic... though he only knows his own people to use it so fluently. He understands the gist, though. They are all the same force, even if they are wielded or created differently.

"The one power. Interesting."

He steps back, nodding, taking in the humble man with the mighty theorbo. Yes. It's a good match, and he's holding her well. Gentle, like one would hold a lover, long fingers curled over her neck.

"A rather fascinating array of chaos. I can do a bit of water myself, but it's only its creation. Perhaps a handful at most." He certainly doesn't sound as impressed with himself as when he discusses his birds -- the latest of which has taken flight and exploded into a small shower of sparks. "Speaking of reading, as I said -- can you read? At all?"

Mat's been here long enough that he doesn't take much offense at the question. Though his lips do purse a bit and there's a flash of something in his eyes, flickering then gone. Jaskier doesn't know him, and he's offering him apprenticeship. It's an unfortunately reasonable question to ask.

"I can read just fine. And write, and do sums. My education wasn't formal, but it wasn't lacking."

And he knows he's lucky for it, and ought be proud he can answer 'yes'. But mostly he just wishes no one felt the need to ask in the first place. Even if there's no malice in it.

"And I think I like the long lute. S'got personality."

Jaskier doesn't miss he's annoyed by it, but it's a reasonable question all the same. Mat is the one who offered he's been raised in the middle of bumfuck, nowhere, and -- as curious as it is that everyone in Abraxas appears to be gifted with the knowledge of literacy, it is more than a fair question to anyone from Jaskier's own home.

Or a home that sounds similar.

"Lucky you only need to be able to read. And count." All right, and write, if he's to put down his music, but there are plenty who never do. Who keep it all in their heads.

It's Jaskier's turn to react, with a slight flinch. "A theorbo, actually. But good! That's good. We found it quickly, and it's an instrument I'm well acquainted with, with beautiful, robust sound." And in Mat's hands, she does look good. The two look similar, both long and thin. Lanky. But strong.

"We'll start easy for today. I'll teach you the first few basic notes on the course, a few on the fet, and a chord, and you practice from there."

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Open Log + Closed Prompt

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