𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐬;

[mobezon]

WHO: louis & co.
WHAT: catch all for post event, ect.
WHERE: horizon. solvunn. nocwich.
WHEN: april showers & may flowers.
WARNINGS: ptsd aspects might arise and any canon usual warnings will be tagged.

 

Comments

𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐥 & 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐬;

[mobezon]

{ ever since he returned to solvunn all he can bother with is to retreat to his coffin and try and build a routine. it’s the needed distractions from the static that had been heavy. he decided to take a “morning” walk, or evening for folks around as soon as the sun set. he’d woken up earlier than usual, still trying to figure out his routine. he hears it before it becomes apparent. there are hooves picking up an aggressive pace upon the ground, thundering in the distance as they run. louis turns to see there’s a goat hurling in his direction.

if he didn't know better, the goat was aiming for him. odd.

it’s getting closer, and all louis does is stare at it. the goat makes eye contact with him, fully intending on him being the one to move aside. it’s been quite a week back, which means he’s still adapting to any changes since the month he was gone if there were any. what is it going to be now? before he knows it the goat has gotten closer, ready to ram against his leg. his decision is quick, one made from the tiredness of having to deal with too much as of late. who can blame him if he did it out of connivence. he wills the goat to aim its frustration somewhere else with the light gleam of his mind forcing the goat to buck around him, just missing the fabric of his pants.

he turns back to the path he intended to take to finally note there are more goats gathering. dozens. they have nearly taken over the side of the area he’s walking through. }

Huh, { comes a short response, trying to comprehend why there are goats everywhere. }

[familysucks]

[Archangels don't sleep. Not outside of dire circumstances and exhausting their grace, that is. Michael often spends the nighttime hours in his domain, but it's not unusual to find him out and about after dark either. The abductions are still a recent memory and he may as well keep an eye out while the rest of the commune sleeps.

He has yet to encounter any kidnappers, but he's run into plenty of roaming livestock.

Rounding up wayward goats is not as simple as picking them up and putting them back inside their pen or pasture, as it turns out. They either parkour up and over the rigid fence posts or wiggle their way out between the gaps, bounding off down the path again or into the forest. Some exceptional troublemakers break right through old fences and go after unsuspecting Summoned.

In a remarkable display of patience, Michael attempted the pick-up-and-drop method all of twice between asking the goats what the hell their problem is.]

They're restless. [From his place behind the small herd of goats making its way down the road, Michael offers clarification. Animal speech does not appear to be a common gift.] There's typically a series of goat races around this time of the month—put off to a later date, given recent events.

[As if in reply, one of the goats raises its head and lets out a loud bleat, the sound unsettlingly human. Michael turns his attention to the animal, frowning at it.]

That's no excuse. Not everything is about you.

[mobezon]

{ one would think if he was granted the ability to read minds and project imagery through some resemblance of vampiric telepathy, he’d be able to see fully into every creature’s mind. he can, for the most part, but it’s images and not words. it is the reason he shoots a furrowed gaze towards the man walking their way. at first he wonders if he’s their farmhand or something akin with the familiarity of his words.

the goats respond to him, at least as far as loud sounds from an animal can do. but to understand them? surely this isn’t what has louis the most surprised after having gone through a month of survival. oddly enough, it might be. }

You understand them.

{ less of a question. he recalls the goat races, but he didn’t participate and since he’s fairly a bit over two months fresh, there’s still much for louis to try and comprehend about what solvunn has to offer. the stranger speaks as if they know, and with it comes having been around. he’s done the same in spaces he’s been comfortable in and he’d had an upper hand. something about it is giving him an inkling, but he will reserve it in favor of the goats for now.

louis remains still, his gaze now flickering to the goat next to the other. will the goats be able to understand him? he ought to feel awkward, but he’s become desensitized enough that he can be open about it, at least to this regard in comparison to a human for example. }

Are the goats sacred around here? For example, no one can eat them sacred like Hinduism and cows or pork as non-kosher?

[familysucks]

[If he knew, Michael might be a little insulted at being mistaken for a farmhand. Though he looks and sounds human, he's no local farmer. He's merely escorting the herd on an early evening stroll, just enough of a walk to calm them down before putting them back where they belong for the night.]

When I make the effort, yes.

[It's more akin to a practice than an innate sense. He rather prefers it this way. Goats and other animals don't have quite the same conversational aptitude or rich inner world that humans do. There's really only so much they can convey. Michael thinks he might find the wilds of Solvunn far less peaceful if they were forever buzzing with the sound of half-intelligent chatter.

One of the ones by his side turns its head and opens its mouth, then sticks out its tongue to draw in the edge of his shirt for chewing on. Without looking down, Michael gives it a light rap of his knuckles between the horns. Bad goat.]

No, nothing like that. They're kept more for their milk than their meat but eating them isn't taboo. You might get yourself in trouble if you ate someone's pet or one reserved for a special purpose, of course.

[Standard rules apply, here as anywhere else: don't touch what isn't yours. The question suggests the man hasn't been in Solvunn for very long. His gaze turning assessing and critical, Michael stares for a moment. He doesn't recognize the face, either.]

You must be one of the new ones. Michael.

[He is, after many months in Abraxas, finally learning to introduce himself. Though it's been many long years since he resided in Heaven, a part of him is forever accustomed to be recognized by name. Change does not come easy to those his age and to Michael in particular.]

[mobezon]

{ it’s the outfit, but he’s not about to go on a judgement on what they wear. they’re all wearing a variation of clothes meant to be simple. in a way, it’s a relief considering by the end of the session, he’d been wearing a hoodie. now he wonders if he can make himself one. louis is cut off in solvunn, where riches don’t matter when all he’d had was a lavish lifestyle he built over a century. he really doesn’t mind it, but he does miss the simple delights - especially books.

the goat seems to back down when michael taps on its horns, and he supposes it isn’t any different than any mammal trying to communicate basic needs. speaking of his basic needs. }

I’d rather avoid any trouble. I don’t eat food like the others. I was beginning to wonder how long before everyone knew there was a vampire among them. Might as well be upfront. I am newish. Only just settling back after the incident. I wouldn’t say I recommend the pit experience.

{ truly. it’s the simplest most bare way he can place it. he has to compartmentalize it while he’s still dealing with the after effects. at least he’s feeling better. he also figures being upfront is best, considering his plan to slowly reveal his nature has gone to shit. far too many people have been exposed to that in the pit.

before he forgets himself, or his mama rolls in her grave from across another world, he recalls his manners. his accent is usually a mixed neutrality, made of places he’s visited throughout mostly europe, but the new orleans twang is briefly there when he introduces himself. }

Louis de Pointe du Lac.

𝐞𝐥𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐝. 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐭.

[mobezon]

{ there had been a hesitation for louis when he first decided to wander. he’d gone to istredd’s domain, and after doing so he’s decided he has to understand what happened to the rest he didn’t get an opportunity to reunite with. they had fleeting moments, but something about the pit had settled within him and made a space he isn’t sure is going to leave him anytime soon. to a vampire, it’ll be a long time before the memory will fade. the slight yearning leads him away from his own piece of the horizon, to follow a sudden compelling notion to seek.

what he finds is a meadow, unlike one he’s ever seen in his lifetime. the fragrant flowers hit his senses right away. what catches his attention is the tree. it’s a singular tree and it reminds him of the one he had back home in dubai. his had been illuminated by artificial light, and he’d had a bench set out for him to sit and stare at it. there’s something different about the openness of the meadow. he decides to sit, and wait. for what, he's not sure. he’s never seen such a sight.

what he knows is that the night follows him. he’s not ready to see the sun, and in this corner there’s no sunlight. he likes it enough to take a break before he continues searching. }

[politicians]

[ here, the night is welcome. the elves love starlight best after all and this realm's sky is wreathed with stars, with the evening star being the brightest of them all. it is, after all, the star his father carries across the night sky. even if this realm is his own creation, elrond likes to believe his father can still see him, wherever he might be.

elrond drifts into the meadow from seemingly nowhere, a serene smile upon his face. ]

Welcome. I see you located my favourite tree.

[mobezon]

{ his eyesight drifts form the tree to the sky, suddenly seeing a cluster of stars have manifested. louis has only just begun to understand the horizon or what it has to offer. it gives him what he’s lost and he’s less inclined to question it further. he should, if wisdom dictates.

soon as he hears the familiar voice, but this time less in despair, he beams. it’s a relief to see elrond since they were separated after the pit. he’d briefly wonder in nocwich if he made it. now he’s here. }

Elrond. Glad to see you are looking fresh. What about it makes it your favorite?

[politicians]

The fact that I planted it myself, a few centuries ago.

[ he rests his hand upon the bark with a grin. the wind rustles through the field, sweet-smelling. such was the harmony of nature between elves and the trees. ]

[mobezon]

It’s a beautiful tree. It hadn’t occurred to me that a tree is the best measure of our immortal lives. How old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?

{ the twitch of his muscles cause a grin, one he is unable to hold back on. idle conversation in the midst of a peaceful meadow might be what is needed after what they experienced. he’s always liked the sound of rustled leaves. nature’s chimes. }

𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐥𝐲.

[mobezon]

{ louis has been spending a fair amount in the horizon. after the weeks it took to readjust from the nauseousness after his first visit, he had begun to want to go back to it. the small doses he gathered when he was in the pit and the mountains had not been enough. it had become an itch, to try and go back over and over until more of what he had once known became fuller. it wasn't exactly a fabrication, but it was close enough for him to want to find solace in it. what he’s searching for, he’s not exactly sure. all he knows is that it’s become a little bit of an addiction.

he’s returned once again. louis is thankful he has his coffin to be able to access the horizon at his pace. with the small library he’s made for himself, he takes one of the books off the shelf and aims to read it. he’s learned he can only manifest what he’s read before, and thankfully he’s read thousands in his lifetime. the gift of a sharp mind allows him to know each of the words, to try and bring it all back. without fail, he’s manifested a few of his favorites. then he senses it. someone is nearby.

he leaves the book on the table of the courtyard and makes his way outside his domain, to what he considers the outskirts. he sees a woman by a streetlamp, the flicker of the light making her seem otherworldly. it could also be that louis has purposely set his domain to night mode. he decides to approach her, considering no one has wandered to his side just yet. is she exploring? }

Ma’am. Are you searching for a particular domain? I might not be of use, since I barely know any.

[seaandsun]

[ The Horizon is a fascination — but these last weeks, what Galadriel has wanted more than anything is to be able to share in the experience with her dearest friend. Communicating across the strength of the elven bond and the power by which they can enter each other's thoughts even from long distances had been impacted by their capture, so in that time, she had only Elrond's Horizon to retreat to, a place that he had welcomed her into regardless of the hour. There is a desire, deep within her, to make her own, but she almost had not wanted to broach the mere concept of it until she could secure the return of him and any others who had been taken.

She is cautious, however, as she explores others, not wanting to intrude on anyone's private domain, lingering more on the precipice of any given place — but something draws her to this one, a small street illuminated by several glowing lamps, a stillness and a quiet to it all that does not necessarily herald anything sinister.

In another instant, however, she is no longer alone, and Galadriel glances past the warmth of the light toward the shadows where a man emerges, approaching her directly. ]

My apologies if I have encroached on your realm. [ She inclines her head, a polite form of address, even if she does not yet know the one she is addressing. ] I was simply... wandering, although I am not lost.

[mobezon]

{ there's a boldness to exploring, and louis recognizes it when he regards the woman with a closer look. she'll be able to see his attire is different than her's. he's wearing a three piece maroon suit, his arcana stitched into the vest pocket. the horizon allows him to shift attire, but he still chooses to keep his surreal green eyes. truthfully, he has yet to see what is private and isn't. a part of storyville came back to him. in the house attached to it, there are layers that go up into a mini tower and the further he goes, the more it transforms. his domain isn't complete. he wishes to stay on the ground for now.

the floor level is the welcoming one. he has a hand in his pocket when he steps closer. }

No need to apologize. I don't make a habit of kicking people out. I may be old, but I am not about to yell about kids on my lawn.

{ she is not a kid, that he can tell from sight. there’s an elegance from stance alone, reminding him faintly of some older vampires he’s encountered. already, he prefers her company and they have yet to exchange further words. }

I don't mean to pry, but I’ll assume you're a Summoned? We haven’t met. Name's Louis de Pointe du Lac.

[seaandsun]

[ During her time here, Galadriel has already borne witness to several different manners of dress — her own might seem a bit simpler by comparison, a light blue gown with another piece of fabric belted around the waist but no other strong embellishments or ornamentation. While she could very well present herself in something else — her armor, perhaps, glinting off of the lamps' illumination — this is a conversation for Galadriel the lady, not Galadriel the Commander of the Seven Armies.

Her brow quirks at the colloquialism — a foreign one to her ears, but his response does provide her with some more understanding. Like her, he is not human; like her, he has lived enough years that he considers himself to be of a certain longevity. As he nears her, she wonders if it is made up of centuries, or perhaps even longer than that. ]

A fair assumption to settle on. [ She regards him quietly, with an openness that signals curiosity as well as a certain lack of concern with how she might be perceived for being so bold. ]

I am Galadriel of the Noldor, daughter of the Golden House of Finarfin. It is an honor to make your acquaintance, Louis.

[mobezon]

{ if there is any boldness on either party, it is welcomed. louis has warn many a hat in various parts of his life, and he has yet to figure out which one to showcase at abraxas. there has to be some boldness if it’s not disrespect. louis isn’t here to make enemies regardless. company is another matter of question. her introduction jolts his time in the pit, and he’s heard her name before. his intrigued expression blossoms fully. }

Galadriel, you say? I did hear your name spoken. Do you happen to be from Elrond’s world? We were acquainted under terrible circumstances. He’s good people.

{ it’s the best he can describe it. they did what they could to survive, but even having had a conversation with elrond had allowed him to believe he can keep moving. he had to. if she is of his world, then he’s compelled. he hasn’t interacted with an elven prior. all he knows are vampires other than human. }

It is my honor. { he gestures towards the doorway, where a little sign in neat cursive letters reads: storyville. the doors are currently closed, but they will swing open upon an acceptance to the proceeding invitation. } If you have a moment to spare, you’re welcome to the courtyard. Might be time it isn’t empty.

𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭. 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐞𝐫𝐚.

[mobezon]

{ louis' domain has different aspects of a varying degree of eras all settled into a package. unless someone lived through the decades he did, they wouldn't know exactly what aspects they might be. the higher up, the more it's less welcoming and eventually the top third level will unfold a part of the penthouse he had in dubai. louis has remained to the ground level where the courtyard lays. all of it can be settled into a vintage standpoint. that is assuming people are of earth, but it may not be the case.

the outside of his domain is simple. it's a modest green bench overlooking across to the neighboring domains. it's lengthy, able to fit three people. there are trees around him and some street lamps. the doors are currently locked behind him, but he isn't paying mind. his domain is a corner filled with a night sky. louis holds a book in his hands, and tucked at the last page is a letter that he had received.

the gala has gone by. he has sent his response, and yet he remains holding the original letter as real as the one tucked under his coffin. it's a useful bookmark currently. it could be a distracting thought, or perhaps istredd had been right and anything can be thought if he believed. however, did he want to slide his finger in turning the page to let the paper cut his finger? it's a human aspect, he supposes. a singular droplet of blood falls onto the page, covering some words and darkening the page. he proceeds to run it down the page by pressing into it, smearing further to cease the blood. }

Goddamn.

[gynvael]

[ Over the months, seasons, the Horizon ofttimes changes. Forests fade into castles, buildings melt into lakes as people come and go. It's strange to be in a plane that lives in a permanent state of flux, though he's grown more used to it lately.

Sometimes he takes his motorbike, sometimes he takes Roach. Today, he picks the latter—misses riding his mare after too long trapped elsewhere. She looks exactly as she does in the physical world: a Fresian with a thick black mane. One of the first things he acquired when he finally had the coin for it.

He isn't going anywhere in particular. Around, perhaps. As one does in a circular crater. But as he passes by a new structure with glowing lamps and jagged cobblestone, he pauses. Not only from the figure he recognizes, though there's that. It's the blood. He can smell it, a sharp tinge in the air.

Roach comes to a stop. Her tail flicks. He eyes his surroundings, some pieces of it familiar, others foreign. Then his gaze lands back on Louis. ]

That bench is a nice improvement over the boulder.

[mobezon]

{ he hears the trotting in its faintest sounds that bring him back to a time where it had been easing out of fashion as a mode of transportation. it was still enough around. he wipes his hand against his thigh, letting what is be as he lightly closes his book, settling it over his lap. he'll need it, to fully take in the visual of a horse.

it warrants his attention away from a book. geralt next, of course. his eyes flicker to the long face of the horse, and if he wanted he can focus on a heartbeat that'll assess it's real (or so he's made to believe). it has taken him a second to come around that his existence is valid within the horizon in ways he hasn't figured out. he takes it in stride. }

Enough to join the enemy? Consider it a pitstop. { a callback to what been apparent between "monster" and "monster hunter". it is in jest, since it's beyond a black and white lens, considering they're both within the blurred line. he really does not mean to keep staring at the horse. having one near his domain where he has sat down in the same bench to see carriages roll by is a strange appeal. }

They have a name?

[gynvael]

[ It's possible, perhaps, for someone to forgo a heartbeat when creating here if it isn't on their mind, but Geralt, too, knows what Roach's heartbeat sounds like. So she has one as any real horse should. His own pulse is even slower than hers somehow.

His lips quirk at the answer. He hops off Roach and lets her wander to the nearest patch of grass to graze. She's tacked up as a travelling horse would be: saddlebags packed, a bedroll tucked atop. The sheathes to hold his swords are empty. ]

Her name is Roach. [ Like the fish. He sounds fond even simply introducing her. There are few steady elements in his life, but his horse has always been one. Though he tries not to think about her Horizon existence too much. He's got a Roach in the real world; this one isn't real, is little more than an extension of his mind, and yet he's still compelled to spend time with her when he enters the Horizon.

He leans against a nearby lamppost. (It looks different than the ones that populate Nadine's little town.) Hard not notice Louis's eyes fixed on the horse. ] Rare in your neighborhood?

[ He's come across an unexpected number of people for whom horses don't much feature in their worlds. Unless the vampire's just thinking about a snack. Tough to say. ]

[mobezon]

{ from afar, it's not helping his case that he stares at the horse for a moment longer. truth is, he wouldn't snack on a horse. smaller creatures are better fit for what he needed back home, and easier to manage. of course, they briefly boulder bonded. he wouldn't try. something about the thought is amusing as he shifts his stare to geralt instead.

he's yet to understand the horizon in the depth of extensions. subconsciously, he might be dwelling in it. he chuckles. }

I was told it was difficult to recreate living embodiments. You did well. It's not that it was rare to have horses. In the time I was taken, yes. In the time I was turned, no. At least in the cities.

{ it's fitting. from jackson square, carriages were still going down the streets alongside cars. seeing geralt on a horse passing by is more comforting than he will express. he keeps it to himself. }

If you don't mind me asking, did you have a gala in your faction?

𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐝.

[mobezon]

{ returning to nocwich in may is unlike the last time he'd been forced to recover within it. he nearly avoided it, but he decided he might as well get to know what it has to offer. louis has his other reasons, but he won't look for them at the moment. instead, he takes to exploring one day, mostly seeing what the marketplace has to offer.

at least, that had been his intent. then he just sat at the bench jack had showed him the last time he'd been there. louis and a bench is a duo that won't ever wither if he has a say. sadly, there's no book in his hand, but he can see the carefully placed trees and nature around them. he had noted the woods he was warned not to go too deeply into. considering the woods in solvunn, he's alright exploring other aspects. all he's left to do is people watch.

he could do it for hours, but at some point he should do something else. when he does catch sight of a flash of red, it's not difficult to spot. louis is of average height, standing at 5'9. it's easier to spot taller people, and if he remembers, sylvain is certainly tall.

he recalls the survival they had to endure, which seems a long time ago when it had only been a little over a month. he makes his decision before his mind catches up and with careful ease, he approaches the younger man when he sees him wandering along the marketplace. he isn't sure if he's with anyone, but if he is, he can at least greet him. he's careful not to sneak up on him since he can have far too quiet steps, and as he slides up next to sylvian, he speaks. people around them are excitable in their conversations. }

You look healthy.

{ he probably could have worded it less oddly, but it is what it is. }

[philancer]

[ There's a slight frown of concentration on Sylvain's face, his expression distant and distracted as he's lost deep in thought, unseeing most of the goods it looks like he's actually there to browse. It's more unconscious habit than anything, but it still means he startled a little a voice speaks from right beside him. He's usually better at noticing his surroundings than that - especially of late - but when he recognizes Louis, he offers him a warm - if sheepish - grin in greeting.

He figures if anyone was going to be able to sneak up on him, a vampire is a likely candidate. ]

Hey! I wondered if I'd bump into you here this weekend. And yeah, I guess I look a bit better than the last time we saw each other. Although, that's not a very high bar... So do you, by the way. Feeling all recovered yet?

tw: covid pandamic mentions (kinda??? i should apologize for him)

[mobezon]

For the most part. My self healing has come back.

{ physically he's in pristine condition, probably more than others since he can't get sick or have aches for long. he can get hurt, and healing takes a varying degrees of time depending on the damage. takes might to knock him down and the pit was the first time in a long time since he technically got essentially the worst case of a sickness. he appreciates slyvain's cheeriness and in response he allows a warm smile in return. }

In my world we underwent a worldwide pandemic. { there's a joke somewhere in there that he suspects would flatline since it's an inexperience apart to abraxas. } Bustling streets are nice to see. I'm recovered enough to want to socialize. I only got to go to the gambling den last I was here for the first time. I am still unfamiliar with Nocwich.

[philancer]

[ Sylvain casts him a curious glance at that, head tipped slightly to the side as he thinks over those words. ]

Do you not have healers in your world? It must have been a very strong plague. [ It had been known to happen in Fodlan, too, especially in the more rural areas where they had less access to clerics and other healers. But a plague that swept the entire world... that must have been devastating. He couldn't even imagine such a thing.

But he lets the topic shift to the bustling town around them, glancing around at their surroundings with a crooked smile. ] I'm glad they've opened it up to us. That they allow this to be neutral ground for all of us. I know there are some who are separated by Faction and this is their only chance to see one another. I've been lucky - the friends I have here from home are all in the Free Cities with me, but I still show up here keeping an eye out, just in case.

The gambling halls are pretty fun, though. I can show you around a bit, if you like? Was there something you were interested in seeing?

[mobezon]

I’m immune to diseases. We do have healers. Sometimes a virus is powerful enough. It prevented people from truly going out for nearly two years. { at least the timeframe he was taken from still had policies for wearing masks. the world had become quieter. he prefers brushing past it, and instead his mouth twitches as his tone drawls when he’s inspired. }

Makes it better when in good company. I’m glad your friends are with you. Probably made recovery better. If you don’t mind, I’ll certainly wouldn’t turn away your company. { he’s being modest for now. part of him did want to make sure they were alright, especially when it has been a few in the wet tunnel before the other group found them. there’s a pause when it catches up to him that he might find home dwellers at nocwich. there’s slight hope to the possibility for certain people he’d like to see again. }

I’ll have to keep an eye out. Truthfully, my intent had been to get blood wines. Do you have a favorite spot here?