abraxaslogs | WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!

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WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!

WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!

Welcome to The Free Cities! The portal exits outside the capital city of Cadens. The first impression of the city is its sheer size. It sprawls out across the landscape like a great hulking beast at rest. The wall that encircles it barely contains it, the buildings of Cadens practically bulging against its restraint.

The air here seems thicker somehow, tinged with a scent that’s acrid and smoky. Smog hangs high over the city, belched out by smokestacks that tower over the industrial district. The desert stretches out behind it, dotted with towers and dust clouds that disappear into the horizon. Multiple gates lead inside and each is staffed by soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms that wave a steady stream of people through without appearing to pay much attention. People are coming and going almost all of the time, to and from the outposts and areas of activity around the city proper. It’s difficult to tell just what’s out there beyond the impression of tall metal structures and a great deal of labor. Wagons carrying travelers to Libertas and Aquila roll out from the Travel Post outside the city wall.

Anyone who can sense magic will notice a much lower concentration here. No one will be stopped or questioned at the gate, even if the soldiers seem to take note of the fugitives from Thorne.

The activity and sheer number of citizens can be overwhelming. It’s crowded and loud and feels constantly in motion with everyone talking and yelling over each other. It’s easy to get swept up in the ever-moving throng or find oneself ducking into the mouth of a narrow alley just to breathe.

Anyone who’s willing to make their way to the northern part of the city and Portham Hall will find Prime Minister Marlo Reiner available to receive them.

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[The wolf hears Jaskier before he makes himself known. A human's gait. Then a bird's song, and quite frankly the wolf has no interest in investigating either just yet. They are not so close that his instinct to growl and snap kicks in, nor does he truly wish to do that until he must. That would draw attention, and right now attention is the last thing he wants.

There's no particular pleasure in the isolation, but there is relief in it. He can make choices again. No one is here to deny him sun, give him only one crappy meal a day, none of it. His abilities are back, he can stay here as a wolf for as long as he wants. Maybe forever.

But no. Then the bard approaches his little hidey spot, and the wolf has to acknowledge him in some way. Alucard lifts his head, ready to--

--ah.

The tension in the wolf's body fades as quickly as it appeared, and the head that was starting to lift up goes back down on it's two front paws. The gesture isn't quite domesticated, but it is a little more human.

That the wolf closes it's eyes though? That is very human. Please just finish your business.]

[The hesitation of the wolf to not immediately run off presents him with two options: the chance of getting his cock bitten off by a wolf, or to piss himself.

These trousers are new. He absolutely cannot abide by the second option.

So he, very carefully, takes care of business. Luckily the birds he summons now no longer need his direct control, because he needs the advantage of time in case the wolf --

Er. Gives him privacy?

He looks away from the wolf, too. Because that. Seems right. Soon enough the business is finished, he is no longer in danger of pissing himself, and his trousers have been pulled back up.

He clears his throat.] Er. [This is awkward. And he's not entirely sure why. Wolves simply don't -- they are not polite.] You can open your eyes now. If you -- [He huffs at himself.] This is insane. Jaskier, you're talking to animals. Please, go sleep.

[The wolf is also feeling pretty awkward right now. To make a point though, because at this point Jaskier reprimanding himself for talking to animals is at least a little funny, the wolf opens its eyes.
They are very gold, and while Alucard has no understanding of the concept of subtle, his wolf habits are at least pretty difficult to differentiate between his human ones.

So the wolf considers the bard for a moment more, makes a soft noise that may very well as translate to not insane, and continues to rest in the little spot it has carved out for itself. However, the wolf's eyes proceed to follow the birds, tracking.

They're definitely not wolf food. Just something to pay attention to that is out of the ordinary.]

[Oooh. Kay. He's also talking to animals who listen to him, so there's. That.

He sort of sees it, a little. How a witcher's eye could be mistaken for a wolf's, now. For the right kind of wolf. How fitting. Minus the black bits, of course. Geralt didn't have the black bits.

Shouldn't he feel more in danger? He's certainly run into wolves before. They also didn't act anything like this. Much more growly. Little bit more teeth. More screaming from Jaskier, usually.]

Sooo... [Was it living here? So close to the city? That didn't seem right.] You don't happen to talk, right? That would be. Ridiculous, of course. One does not bequeath random wildlife the gift of speech.

[He was sort of getting that vibe, that was all. And hadn't someone mentioned this to him?] Wait a moment. Do I know you?

Edited 2021-09-05 06:56 (UTC)

[Talk? At that, the wolf decides to give a real answer, and one paw brushes over the rough placement of where the vocal chords should be. Very hard to make human noises without human vocal chords. Still, the wolf gesturing means that it absolutely understands the human asking slightly mad questions of it.

Alucard's just curious to see how long it'll take for Jaskier to figure it out.

The wolf tilts it's head, once the bard remembers that yes, someone had absolutely mentioned this before. There's no other movement though, just a soft, curious gaze. Wondering what's next in this situation.]

[That is definitely not a wolf movement. Is he really onto something here?]

I feel you're making fun of me. [Oh. Ah! Wait! Does it mean it literally? Er, the movement. (Can movements be literal?) He had not anticipated playing a game of charades with a forest creature, who... did not have much forest to live in at the edge of a desert. Thus.] You... can't talk.

[He waits for affirmation. And gets a tip of the head. All right. So he's definitely communicating with --]

Are you fucking mad? [Wolves don't understand speech. Only one person has mentioned turning into a wolf casually. Of course, he'd been a bit plastered with wine at that moment, but somehow Jaskier does feel a bit like he's been made a fool of.

If he's right, of course. He clears his throat.] I don't suppose I owe you a bottle of wine still, do I?

[It would be far too embarrassing to claim a random wolf was Alucard and to be overheard saying it.]

[The wolf's tail twitches in amusement as Jaskier keeps going. He has a good line of thought, but it's how he gets there that makes the whole thing -- entertaining isn't the right word, that feels rude. Endearing isn't correct either. Fascinating to watch, that's it, because Jaskier keeps nothing inside of his own head.

He gets there in the end, Alucard having done nothing else to really prompt him. A soft snuffle of confirmation comes at the revelation, and then the wolf takes a few steps forward.

It is a seamless transformation, all the white fluff melting into pale blonde hair and a dark color coat with precious little detail to it. Not what Alucard had worn in the Horizon at all, but suitable enough. At least trousers and white tunics were easy to come by.]

After that, I'd dare say you owe nothing.

Hey! Oh. Really? [The wolf seems to be indicating the affirmative. Had Alucard mentioned white wolves? It -- well, now it feels a bit embarrassing he didn't put it all together sooner, even though, you know, people don't just randomly turn into wolves.

Or turn back into people. The gasp Jaskier gives is natural shock. It is not what he's seen or heard of as far as werewolves go. It's... smooth.

And he's not naked. That must be a bonus.]

It really is -- [That. Ah. He flushes. And Alucard better enjoy it, because it is as rare as a lush flower in a poison swamp.] You know, you could have simply told me. Wrote it in the sand or something. [He huffs, but truthfully, he doesn't care. It's good to see him. Jaskier considers throwing his arms around him, yet something about Alucard has always sort of made touch feel... not so natural.] Running about on four legs must feel especially good after all that.

[Not being naked is a huge bonus, especially these days. Alucard still needs to divest himself of the prison clothes that he is unfortunately stuck with for the time being (the downside of running off at the first opportunity), but it isn't nudity.

He takes the genuine shock in stride, not wanting to ruin it by drawing too much attention. Alucard will take quiet satisfaction as more than enough and then some, and--]

I suppose I could have. I can work on that fine motor control with my paws. [Thank you, Jaskier, you have given him something to do. It isn't especially productive, but it is something.]

It did, yes. But having any natural ability return feels good right now. [He'd turn into a series of bats, but that might actually give the bard too much of a surprise.] Apologies your attempt at undoing this mess didn't turn out as well.

[Jaskier is still trying to get over the trauma of being mildly embarrassed in front of someone he's attempted to sleep with. It's going to take a second. Even now his hands are extra fluttery, and he rubs the back of his neck. No, this is definitely a normal experience for him now, you know, pissing in front of a wolf who is his friend.]

I no longer even know if that's sarcasm or not.

[Look, how hard could it be to write a name with paws?? He has no idea, he's never had paws. Actually, that might be something to try in Horizon. Of course Jaskier longs to understand all universal experiences, up to and including having four paws to deal with.

He's also trying to think of anything other than the fact that Alucard must think him an embarrassment. His reputation!!! The only thing that he has left that's valuable!!] This...? Oh, gods, do you mean Hector and I's prison escape attempts? Are you kidding? I much prefer this way! For one, none of us were in danger of having our heads or hands chopped off. This was much safer. And, dare I say, much more effective.

[He pauses. He has to ask.] Is he here, too? Hector?

It was simply an observation. [Not that that makes it any better. Probably. Alucard can't speak for anyone but himself on that front, but paws don't have the same level of fine motor control as hands and that makes a difference. Perhaps if he had a stick in his mouth it'd be easier but--

--oh never mind.] I will agree, it was more effective. Just less...[god help him, he really did want this to go a certain way, didn't he?] Dramatic.

[Alucard's willing to explain more, but no. Jaskier brings up the necromancer, and Alucard finds himself having to restrain from Being Rude About Hector out of instinct given the past. He manages not to wrinkle his nose, or even have a bit of distaste in his voice. He's straight forward enough but there is a slight hint of something sour.]

He is, yes. Likely looking for lodging, and going to insist that I stay with him.

[His lips almost tug into another smile.] Admittedly, I do love the dramatic.

[It certainly would have left a lasting impression on those who mattered in Thorne, wouldn't it? And put a standing target on their heads. So yes, he'll definitely let someone else take the target.

Jaskier tips his head, catching that tone. It's not exactly vague, and Jaskier has an art, especially after those months in Thorne, in tracking just what the other person is thinking.] You don't like him. [To be fair, Hector never really made that obvious besides... referring to him as an obligation.] Well, it's not like me to pry. [Yes, it is. And actually, he's safe to assume Hector probably told him more than he should. Or more, he suspects, than Alucard would've liked.] You know, he sort of speaks the same, but I suspect he likes you more than he lets on.

[It's really a guess. Anyway, please don't maybe talk badly about his sort-of-beau.] Is that what you both mean to do for now? Hunker down?

There was merit in making the departure into a statement.

[It would have been far too violent though, if Alucard had been able to do what he wanted. Of course, taking a page out of Dracula's book was probably not the greatest idea in the long run, but even now the dhampir is struggling on that topic. For three months in prison? With no just cause? There was no moral ground for either party to stand on. Why not impale it all?

Alucard's sour face remains. Hector clearly hasn't gone into recent past actions here, and they're far too close to Alucard's issues for him to ~~be a messy bitch~~ want to get into detail.] I do not. There are a number of matters we disagree on, and yet he continues to insist on obligations to the dead. Every attempt to disuade him otherwise ends in an especially stupid back and forth.

[Alucard's learned not to pick that battle, at least. He sighs, happy to step away from the topic. He doesn't want to talk about Hector, and you know what, if the bard keeps Hector away from bad life choices, all the better.] In the short term, yes. In the longest, I can't say I know his mind. Only my own, and that involves finding a place to take a long, undisturbed rest.

To be fair, to find anyone with any sense of duty to the dead's about as likely as shooting a bird under the ocean. [In his experience, in his world, even if the body's still bloody warm, it's nothing that one can tie promises or obligations to.

Gods, one doesn't need to be a nosy bard to know there's treasure troves of drama to be taken in between what isn't being said. He's also quickly learning that Hector is the chattier of the two, and much more likely to give details. At least as far as sober conversation is concerned.

It is terribly tempting to push a little more -- he longs to know all about this horrible drama -- but it's the memory of Hector's horrible reaction to the ring that gives him pause. Perhaps there is plenty he'd rather not know, too.]

Rest? [It's not the strangest thing to be seeking, but the way Alucard says it makes it not sound akin to catching a nap in the sun.] Like a foggy, depressing forest in the middle of nowhere? Fat luck here for that. [Actually, a rest sounds wonderful. Possibly not moving anywhere for a few days, even if the light weight of his coin purse reminds him that is no longer a luxury he can afford.] But I do hope you find it.

[If only because he always sounds as if the weight of time is only a moment away from crushing him.]

There's doubtlessly other factors involved. I've never cared to pry.

[He doesn't care about Hector's guilt. Just that Hector was someone his father might have listened to by virture of not being family and perhaps could have reigned his father back from his plans. (A tiny part of the dhampir knows that it wouldn't have happened, but he wants to believe someone had that ability. That the worse part of the tradgey could have been avoided. That I'm killing my boy were words that never had to be uttered in the minutes before death. That the moment of realization could have come so much sooner.)

He's glad Jaskier doesn't pry. How the bard might react to even a fraction of the drama is impossible to predict, and Alucard doesn't want to find out. But he can talk about the crypt. That part's easy.]

A crypt where I can build enough mechanisms to help ensure that I can have my vitals taken care of if I choose to remain asleep for a year or more.

[Welcome to the high drama concept of the Depression Nap!]

[His first reaction, unfortunately, is a bit like a guffaw. One of surprise and amusement, and --]

Oh. Oh, you aren't kidding. My apologies. [His fingers worry together, rubbing in circles. At first he was rather glad to move on to a conversation that seemed normal considering the encounter had began with his hose hanging out of his trousers, but now he was beginning to regret this particular line of questioning.

How awkward.] Deathly serious, one might say. [Oof. Even that pun hits like a punch to the gut.] Er... why? I mean. [Actually, he has no other way to phrase that. That's exactly what he means to ask.] Why would you want to do that?

[You take your cock out around a wolf, there's no telling where the discussion will go.

Alucard's deathly serious in the glance Jaskier gets from that initial reaction. Reproachful, but not offended by the reaction. He has no reason to know or understand that this has been done before, or any of the particular context.

Why is a fair question. The dhampir closes his eyes as a long sigh escapes him, not wanting to dwell on the matter but well aware that the bard will take nothing short of the truth.] Between the past...however many months I have been here and circumstances back home, I am tired.

[If Hector was around, maybe the necromancer would clock the tone. Dracula spoke in similar ones to his human generals before, when the red hot fury over Lisa's murder passed into a more muted grief, but still a murderous one.]

I would like extended time to rest before I deal with any of it.

[It's the answer he expects, but it's no less disappointing to hear it. Being tired? Is not a week or two with frequent napping enough? He is no longer sure whether to imagine this is a vampire thing or an Alucard thing, but gathering from his general demeanor, the bard is leaning towards the latter.

It may be best to not be too judgemental about it all. He was not one of the prisoners himself.

Though, he imagines circumstances back home may be more relevant. The dead parent situation. Or whatever is going on there.

Speaking of his demeanor: something about it makes him want to embrace the dhampir. He doesn't, smartly, but -- no, there's no question that he is, indeed, tired.]

You know, that sounds fair. [He's being generous, of course, because part of him feels this also sounds like running away. It is always so much more simple to run away from one's problems.] Though in the long run, I fear it may be detrimental.

[To his health? His head? Debatable, both.] I do hope you find some respite, my friend, even if it's out here in this godsforsaken desert. And perhaps send a note every so often to inform you're still alive.

[Hector please stop telling everyone about his drama. It is rude.

Alucard has a suspicion that that sounds fair is a platitude. It reeks of it, especially with the words that follow after. Jaskier is not the first to think it is a terrible idea, but Alucard can't even find it in himself to be annoyed.

But a correction sneaks out all the same.] It has been helpful in the past.

[Sure, the last time also involved healing from an injury, but it helped all the same.]

I'm not sure I'm skilled enough to write in my sleep.

For avoiding things?

[Oops. Look, it's right there, to be pointed out. Jaskier only looks mildly regretful about coming out with it. It's simply -- well, one does not usually talk about how they'd like to sleep for a few weeks on end and mean it. People who do that usually die.

Guess it doesn't matter as much if you're already dead.

Geralt does similar, anyway. Except he throws himself into things that don't matter and pretends he's all right. He's rather growing a collection of men who do that sort of thing, isn't he?

He snorts. Okay, fair point.] You need a little assistant. Maybe a bat, with a bitty note tied to its leg.

[Now he's just trying to be funny.]

To heal from a grievous injury, thank you.

[Okay, maybe that was snappish, but the dhampir is not sure why everyone keeps second guessing his depression nap. It has proven effective in the past, there is no reason at all to think it wouldn't be the same here and now.

~~Jaskier you attract a type. Sorry.~~

Thank God for the absurd. Alucard tries to imagine the idea, and then--

--oh fuck it. The bard deserves this for the avoiding things comment. So the dhampir stares him right in the eyes and asks, plain and simply:] Like this?

[Where Alucard was, two dozen or so bats swirl, squeaking and flapping their wings in a concentrated black cloud. There's no attempt to move beyond a tiny radius, roughly where Alucard was standing, but really the point is the reaction.]

[Ah. Foot, meet mouth. The purse of Jaskier's lips is contrite; it feels a bit like being corrected by a professor, without the thwacking of a stick.] All right, so it worked for you that time.

[At least he's polite about it! Though Jaskier maintains his idea is a very cute and quirky one, if not a little -- wait, like what?

There is a reaction. And it is instantaneous.

Jaskier outright screams. It's a scream of surprised terror, and the force of it -- or in his desperate bid to step backwards -- makes him tumble to the ground, landing on his tailbone, which shoots a pain up through his spine, which is both awful and barely felt at all. He stares in horror at the swirling bats that are currently occupying the space where his friend once was, shuffling backwards in the sand.

Let's just say it's really good that he pissed only moments before this.]

[Perhaps it is a little cruel, giving no warning about the transformation. The wolf is a little easier, as it is a singular creature and one that doesn't inspire much terror. Bats, well. They're not always the most welcome things, and there are many of them in a small space.

Oh well.

The bats manage to remain in their little column, flapping and squeaking for a few moments more, all their eyes turned towards Jaskier who is absolutely not enjoying this for a moment. The tailbone, well, that'll hurt and--

--Alucard occupies the space again. Perhaps that was overkill.]

It is a little difficult to have one in isolation, you see.

[It may only be a few seconds, but it's absolute hell for those few seconds. At some point Jaskier is fairly sure he blacks out, only to open his eyes back, though his head swims uncomfortably, to the bats turning back, somehow, fucking impossibly, into a man.

He clutches his chest, where his heart has decided to attempt to claw its way from behind his ribs. Jaskier coughs a few times, gasping for air. You cannot do this to old men. What if he had a heart attack???? If he knew what one was. STILL.]

Melitele's fucking tits --

[He's going to have nightmares about this. Definitely. His brain is already promising to have that image haunt him in the future.] I cannot believe you just did that! What on EARTH were you thinking?! Vampires may not be capable of dying from fright, but I am!

[Jaskier you just called yourself old. Think for a moment.

Alucard at least has the grace to look mortified at Jaskier's full reaction. He may not know the god he swears to, but he knows actual horror when he sees it. (The delight in the surprise is absolutely gone. Surprise is only good when both parties take it well.) There's a faint red of embarrassment to his face, and he steps back in order to allow the bard room to breath.

He doesn't hold his hands up in placation, or try to override the rawness of the reaction though. There's only honesty in the answer.]

Truthfully, I forgot that the transformation could be that much of a surprise to the unexpecting.

Of all the toilets in all the Free Cities he had to come to this one

this is just both of their lucks

this is a gift

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sorry for the wait!! I needed a small rp break ;;

Completely understandable!

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sorry the opportunity was too good

I am screaming (so is he)

Jaskier he could not have asked for a better reaction thank you

you cannot just DO THAT with NO WARNING

YOU WERE FINE WITH THE WOLF THERE BUDDY are you just hating on bats?!