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abraxaslogs2021-08-24 10:21 am
abraxasmods) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-08-24 10:21 am
Entry tags:
- !event,
- !npc,
- alucard; the hierophant,
- amos burton; the lovers,
- brad bakshi; the wheel of fortune,
- coraline finch; the tower,
- eponine thenardier; the hanged man,
- estinien wyrmblood; the hermit,
- geralt of rivia; the hanged man,
- gideon nav; strength,
- harrowhark nonagesimus; the magician,
- hector; the magician,
- himeka sui; the fool,
- homelander; judgement,
- jon sims; the high priestess,
- jordan hennessy; the moon,
- julie lawry; the wheel of fortune,
- kay faraday; the fool,
- kylo ren; the tower,
- lloyd henreid; the lovers,
- louis; death,
- majima goro; the hanged man,
- martin blackwood; the empress,
- nadine cross; the world,
- nero (drakengard); the devil,
- phoenix wright; the lovers,
- relena peacecraft; death,
- roland deschain; death,
- ronan lynch; the moon,
- sam wilson; justice,
- sasarai; judgement,
- stephen strange; death,
- yennefer of vengerberg; the chariot
EVENT #3: AN EXECUTION OF SORTS
THE EXECUTION
As if performing a vicious mockery for what should be a somber day, the sun shines brightly in the sky. The rays of sun catch the iron brackets that hold up the gallows that have been erected overnight for the occasion, the gentle breeze causing the noose to swing ominously. Public executions do not happen frequently in Thorne, so a crowd gathers in strained anticipation of the grim sentence.
The welcome guests, who have up until this point been free to come and go within the confines of the castle, have been mandated to view the execution. It is meant to serve both as an example of Thorne’s power as well as a lesson to those who might think to try the same. The courtyard, which was buzzing with quiet murmurs, turns silent as Ambrose strides up the wooden steps of the gallows, flanked by two guards and a haggard-looking Jonathan Sims, arms bound behind him. As the guards march their charge to the trapdoor that will serve as executioner and position the noose around his neck, Ambrose turns to address the crowd that has gathered- willfully or not.
“Citizens of Thorne, our esteemed welcomed guests, it is with disappointment and a heavy heart that we’ve gathered to see to the execution of one of the very guests we sought aid from in our time of need. In a selfish and distrustful act, I was attacked, an action I cannot abide.”
He turns halfway toward his charge. “Jonathan Sims, you are charged with assault and intention of lethal harm. The punishment is to be hanged by the neck until you are dead. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”
Ambrose raises his arm to signal the executioner to pull the lever to release the trapdoor beneath Jon’s feet, steely expression locked on the prisoner’s face one last time.
The welcome guests, who have up until this point been free to come and go within the confines of the castle, have been mandated to view the execution. It is meant to serve both as an example of Thorne’s power as well as a lesson to those who might think to try the same. The courtyard, which was buzzing with quiet murmurs, turns silent as Ambrose strides up the wooden steps of the gallows, flanked by two guards and a haggard-looking Jonathan Sims, arms bound behind him. As the guards march their charge to the trapdoor that will serve as executioner and position the noose around his neck, Ambrose turns to address the crowd that has gathered- willfully or not.
“Citizens of Thorne, our esteemed welcomed guests, it is with disappointment and a heavy heart that we’ve gathered to see to the execution of one of the very guests we sought aid from in our time of need. In a selfish and distrustful act, I was attacked, an action I cannot abide.”
He turns halfway toward his charge. “Jonathan Sims, you are charged with assault and intention of lethal harm. The punishment is to be hanged by the neck until you are dead. May the gods have mercy on your soul.”
Ambrose raises his arm to signal the executioner to pull the lever to release the trapdoor beneath Jon’s feet, steely expression locked on the prisoner’s face one last time.
MEANWHILE
Several miles away, atop a hill in the forest, two figures meet between portals. Oliver, tall and lithe, steps out to stand next to a petite waif of a woman who looks at him with a familiar smile. Her voice is lilting like a songbird’s when she speaks up, turning her gaze back over the city.
“Find out anything good?”
He hums softly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Two dozen prisoners, give or take. The one I met was very grateful for our assistance.”
“That’s good. Perhaps her gratitude will endear our cause to them.”
With a nod, he takes a deep breath and then sighs. “It’s time, Elizabeth,” he says, lifting one hand to open a new portal.
She nods and raises her arms above her head, eyes closing in concentration. Her arms begin to glow green while the grass around her begins to ripple in rings. The very ground seems to surge with power that radiates outward from her, and it isn’t long before the castle and the town are engulfed in a heavy air of intense magic. It courses from her in shockwaves.
Satisfied, Oliver steps through the portal.
In the wake of the magic flood, the walls of the dungeons seem to shudder for a long moment, and the doors suddenly clink open. No guards come rushing in to shut them, and in fact, all ambient noise in the dungeons seems to stop as the whole of the people of Thorne freeze in place. The hall becomes lit by daylight as a portal opens at the end of it, showing them the crowd of welcomed guests and Jon alone on the platform.
In the portal, alone stands Oliver, hand offered to the prisoners in welcome. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, though this seems to be by nature rather than intention.
“Please come with me.”
“Find out anything good?”
He hums softly, his hands clasped behind his back. “Two dozen prisoners, give or take. The one I met was very grateful for our assistance.”
“That’s good. Perhaps her gratitude will endear our cause to them.”
With a nod, he takes a deep breath and then sighs. “It’s time, Elizabeth,” he says, lifting one hand to open a new portal.
She nods and raises her arms above her head, eyes closing in concentration. Her arms begin to glow green while the grass around her begins to ripple in rings. The very ground seems to surge with power that radiates outward from her, and it isn’t long before the castle and the town are engulfed in a heavy air of intense magic. It courses from her in shockwaves.
Satisfied, Oliver steps through the portal.
In the wake of the magic flood, the walls of the dungeons seem to shudder for a long moment, and the doors suddenly clink open. No guards come rushing in to shut them, and in fact, all ambient noise in the dungeons seems to stop as the whole of the people of Thorne freeze in place. The hall becomes lit by daylight as a portal opens at the end of it, showing them the crowd of welcomed guests and Jon alone on the platform.
In the portal, alone stands Oliver, hand offered to the prisoners in welcome. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes, though this seems to be by nature rather than intention.
“Please come with me.”
CHOICES
Everything is happening quickly.
Once through the portal to the execution yard there's a moment of chaos and confusion at the sudden arrivals and then it stops. Everything and everyone has stopped, save for the guests, the prisoners, and the two mages who have come to their aid. Guards freeze in place. The attended mages are still as statues. Banners lifted by the wind remain where they are and even the noose hanging from the gallows stills.
"Time for them is halted." Oliver addresses the assembled, his voice projected to be heard but his tone calm. "It will remain so for one hour, no more. An hour is all you have to make your choices. Remain here in Thorne, or take a portal to either Solvunn or the Free Cities. The portals cannot be traced by the Thorean authorities, so no need to fear them giving chase.”
Elizabeth emerges from a portal behind him, which closes as she enters the yard. They both raise an arm and two white circles spread through the air, showing new towns in the distance on the other side. There is an ethereal glow around them.
“The Free Cities are martially powerful and seek to destroy the Singularity,” Oliver narrates, gesturing at one of the portals. “Solvunn is reclusive and claims neutrality, both in politics and in regard to the Singularity. I advise that you think hard about your choice. Travel between cities is not exactly easy."
He turns back to the crowd with an almost apologetic smile. “I'm sorry you don't have more time to make this decision. We’ll meet again.”
Opening a third portal with the wave of her arm, Elizabeth, who has not spoken a word, gives the group a wink and leaves with Oliver. Their portal closes behind them, leaving everyone to begin making moves.
Now is the time to make serious choices. Two portals stand in the courtyard, one courtesy of Oliver and one of Elizabeth. The Free Cities and Thorne are enemies, Solvunn watching both to see where the cards end up falling. None trust one another, none work with one another beyond trade through middle-men in Solvunn. The clock is ticking.
Someone should probably get Jon out of that noose.
Once through the portal to the execution yard there's a moment of chaos and confusion at the sudden arrivals and then it stops. Everything and everyone has stopped, save for the guests, the prisoners, and the two mages who have come to their aid. Guards freeze in place. The attended mages are still as statues. Banners lifted by the wind remain where they are and even the noose hanging from the gallows stills.
"Time for them is halted." Oliver addresses the assembled, his voice projected to be heard but his tone calm. "It will remain so for one hour, no more. An hour is all you have to make your choices. Remain here in Thorne, or take a portal to either Solvunn or the Free Cities. The portals cannot be traced by the Thorean authorities, so no need to fear them giving chase.”
Elizabeth emerges from a portal behind him, which closes as she enters the yard. They both raise an arm and two white circles spread through the air, showing new towns in the distance on the other side. There is an ethereal glow around them.
“The Free Cities are martially powerful and seek to destroy the Singularity,” Oliver narrates, gesturing at one of the portals. “Solvunn is reclusive and claims neutrality, both in politics and in regard to the Singularity. I advise that you think hard about your choice. Travel between cities is not exactly easy."
He turns back to the crowd with an almost apologetic smile. “I'm sorry you don't have more time to make this decision. We’ll meet again.”
Opening a third portal with the wave of her arm, Elizabeth, who has not spoken a word, gives the group a wink and leaves with Oliver. Their portal closes behind them, leaving everyone to begin making moves.
Now is the time to make serious choices. Two portals stand in the courtyard, one courtesy of Oliver and one of Elizabeth. The Free Cities and Thorne are enemies, Solvunn watching both to see where the cards end up falling. None trust one another, none work with one another beyond trade through middle-men in Solvunn. The clock is ticking.
Someone should probably get Jon out of that noose.
no subject
the second jaskier's brows shoot up, sam is rushed with a feeling of relief. okay, okay that's good. he hadn't wanted to force anyone (correction, anyone other than bucky and peter and mal and alina) to a place they didn't want to go, but knowing that jaskier is headed in that direction, that he can probably get geralt that way too, it gives him a kind of genuine...well. relief he hadn't known he needed.
and so sam smiles, and a bit of that feeling is easy to read there. ] Okay, no, that's good. We'll see each other there. The portal's just opened up from the dungeons that way- I can't imagine Geralt and Ciri and what's her name will be far behind. [ does sam care that he actually does genuinely know yennefer's name, but chooses not to use it? not at all. at least not with jaskier. ] If you wait over there, they'll be coming out soon.
[ jaskier barks a laugh and squeezes at sam's arm and sam's smile only grows, though only marginally, given the circumstances. he nods again, appreciative of the worry in jaskier's words. ] Once I know everyone who wants out gets out, I won't be far behind. Promise. [ at the mention of the horizon, though, sam lets himself let out a laugh. ] You said you'd come, and I'll hold you to it. [ they should part ways. it's an understanding that sam feels on the back of his neck like an inch he refuses to reach for - that they should part, that they're running out of time. but some part of sam feels too much like this could be goodbye and it has him hesitating, just a moment longer. ] I still have to take you flying.
no subject
Jaskier much rather chooses to revel in the idea that there is a friend here who will miss him. Even if they do become separated somehow. Well, it isn't the first time, but goodbyes have never been so simple a thing.]
Hmm. I'm holding you to that promise. Both of them, even. [He does believe him, at least; Sam, from their conversations before, must have no desire to remain in Thorne, either. But my, he must have many those he wants to look after, too, if he hesitates like this.] Speaking of flying, before I leave.
[Jaskier steals one of Sam's hands, opening it flat so he can cup both of his hands together on top. There's a pull of magic, sparks of blue, and when he lifts his fingers the magic begins to craft itself. When it's done, a bright red bird perches on Sam's hand, moving up to his arm, the talons gripping his skin gently.] You mentioned your red-wing. [And without much description, Jaskier has imagined it must be some sort of bird. His is certainly a little flashier, with blood-red feathers and a few that are silver in between the red. It's not as cute as his little songbirds; the beak is curved, more like a hunting hawk, the talons sharp.] Well, you should have a companion for next time you fly.
[Who knew all those weeks spent practicing this one spell would reward him so well? Again, diligence strikes the iron hot, leaving its imprint upon him.] In case I cannot be there.
no subject
jaskier says i'm holding you to that and sam just smiles. just nods. alright. he's got a promise to meet, two promises. of course nothing can happen now, right? he's about to leave, then, too. to turn and head back into the thick of it. but jaskier says speaking of flying and sam hesitates. he's glad he does, too, because it gives him a front row seat to jaskier performing his magic, to the spark of blue, the sudden rush. the bird.
the bird. sam's eyes widen at the hawk-like bird who suddenly appears in a flash of red and silver. he barely even hears jaskier over his own surprise at it, watching the bird take off and circle them both before it hands on his shoulder, the talons sharper than he expects. ]
Wait- since when? [ a smile breaks out across his face, bright and a little young. ] Did you- Jaskier, what? Who is this little guy?
no subject
The bird suits him, he thinks. Somehow, it simply does. (Particularly because the bird is partly him.)]
Since when what? You seem adorably confused. [He loves it. Jaskier can tell.] It turns out that working for months on end on one spell lets a man become quite efficient at it. [He gives the bird a pat on the head, as if to demonstrate quite how real it is.] I call him Radzimir, but you are, of course, free to rename him. He's your little friend now. [What's that bit about not forcing pets upon people who don't ask for them? Oops. Jaskier never received that lesson. Besides, Radzimir can be easily dismissed if he is no longer needed as a companion.] And I'm sure he's quite eager to help you as you need. If this sight is to show us anything... [He roundly gestures at the chaos behind them.] You may need him sooner than later.
no subject
[ the compliment comes easy, all the while sam's eyes are on the bird - bright, open. even with the chaos and the ticking clock, sam takes the moment to watch, to hold jaskier here for just a few seconds longer. jaskier gives the bird a pat on the head, calls him radzimir, and sam laughs. ] How about Red?
[ red looks at sam for a moment, his head tilting quickly from one side then the other, before he spreads out his wings and takes off. part of sam is worried he'll lose him in the chaos, but then the other part reminds him it is jaskier's magic. and just like jaskier found sam's horizon domain, he has a feeling red will find him too.
which reminds him - the portals. the bird. sam blinks for a second before it falls into place just how helpful red is going to be in this moment, and he gives a bark of a laugh, reaching out quickly to pull jaskier's face close and pressing a kiss to his forehead. ] You're a genius. He's perfect. [ his eyes lift back up to where he can make out red's sharp wings, the silver and red through the sky, and he's filled with what feels a bit like a sudden wave of energy. to get this done. to make sure everything is fine. ]
Get through the portal. I'll come find y'all on the other side.
[ and that's when sam is going to end up letting go of him, then. no matter how much he may want to linger, the settling reality that he has a lot more of this castle to check and very little time is weighing on him. ]
Take care of yourself.
no subject
For someone quite used to praise, Sam's is shockingly warm to him. His smile is far too pleased with himself. If only more people recognized him for what he was! A genius! (He may take that to the grave with him.)
Jaskier's head tips back to watch the bird soar, its sharp wings hooking the air with grace.] Red is a fine name, too.
[A bit simple for his liking, but Sam was missing his redwing. Jaskier brushes his forehead, where the kiss is still warm and alive.]
You had better. And be all in one piece, if you please? [He gives Sam a pat on his arm, and a little wave to him and Red. Though he loathes to leave, he cannot afford to lose Geralt and Ciri in this chaos.] Goodbye, Sam!