𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬;

[mobezon]

Who: open to the formally known pit folk!!
When: late may.
Where: horizon — louis' domain.
What: therapy meetup mingle!!
Warnings: probably anything that arises due to trauma from the invocation event.

 

{ it took weeks and some planning to figure out where to send the letters. they will all contain the same message with a blank envelope and wax seal. if anything, while his mind was searing in the pit, he'd memorized faces even if he didn't know everyone's name. therefore, a letter having been sent out at the start of the month is addressed to all. it'll give time for them to arrive, considering he had to send them from nocwich. }

To The Once Pit Folk,

If I am to have done this correctly, then a letter has arrived for you. We were part of the ones taken from our respected factions. I had only arrived to Solvunn when I found myself in the company of not only the dirt and grime of a dark underbelly, but also in the company of you all. Our paths may have crossed back then, or they may have not. We were still there all trying to keep our sanity intact. I’ll try and keep this short.

It has been three months since we were all taken. I have found it is important to find ways to come to terms with what had occurred, and what better way than prohibition alcohol? I jest. Alcohol was outlawed for decades during a slight part of my life, and it seemed to have more enticement when it was forbidden. The delicacies of alcohol can only do what a gentle breeze on a hot summer’s day can. Briefly.

I invite you to come to my domain and remain as we are still around. Call it a celebration, a gathering, a nothing. I will hold space on May 24th in my domain. There will be a sign. Once you’ve found Storyville, you will have arrived. If you choose to leave the troubles of the pit fully behind, I still extend an open invitation to drop by at your leisure and time.

It is a simple invitation of which can be accepted or ignored. Burn it if you'd truly want. I’d like to believe we hold agency, even if our borders say we must honor the faction we have been given. Humbly consider. I know more than anything the importance of community care. I refuse to neglect again. And yes, I do have plenty of alcoholic beverages to offer. I also offer the sounds of what had once been my home. I do hope you don’t mind jazz. If you have not heard it before, then allow me to enlighten you.

We Remain,
Louis de Pointe du Lac

Comments

𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐢𝐬' 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧: 𝐚 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

[mobezon]

{ his domain started out an empty space. now it has a courtyard and a house that might as well have a tower-like feeling to it, while at the same time reminiscent of a vintage home from the early 20th century. it's three layers (so far), and the higher, the less inclined to open to others. it is not impossible. the doors will open if someone tries hard enough. the one on the third layer seems longer than the rest of the structure. there's a piece of the dubai penthouse with his diverse set of paintings scattered. it's stolen art. one room holds a long couch with long panels of windows overlooking from the top. while the other has a cherry blossom tree at center with a desk and small bench. the artificial lighting is prominent.

if anyone ends up on the rooftop, there is an instant vertigo and the structure will seem thousands of miles away, nearly teetering.

people are free to explore if they choose. the second floor is simple. there are two doors that remain closed, hidden behind heavy curtains to give the illusion it is part of the wall; claudia's room & the coffin room. there are a collection of art pieces also on this level. the paintings will slowly morph into the image of what the person inspires or into the art they've likened to if any. there are stairs leading down to the lower level. in addition, a balcony opens to the outside, decorated in flowery vines some days. there are glass stained pillars matching the balcony doors on the outer. on each side stairways lead directly to the courtyard below.

the ground level holds the living room, better suited with a piano to entertain and a fireplace. he's taken parts of what had been a shared home a long time ago.

in the courtyard the club he once owned is replicated in parts. azalea hall had its performance stage, surrounded by tables illuminated by candles upon emerald cloth and decorated flowers. a bar to the far back rests opposing to the stage. the fountain in the center is a new addition. on the left is a dance floor for the bold. upon the stage are some instruments that play on their own and calling for anyone willing to preform. a small room to the side of the dance floor leads into a hangout spot suited for folks to have an intimate area enclosed. a red curtain lines around the entrance to indicate it is open. the sign on top changes with its glimmer. it could be blank, or it could pull from inwardly to question the viewer. best to ignore it.

outside his domain is a little sign that says storyville next to the quaint jade gated doors leading into the hallway that’ll be the center. the bench he'd lovingly sat upon for decades at jackson square overlooks neighboring domains in the distance and greets anyone passing by. it had become his peace of mind, and he spends his time out there sitting like the old man he can be. elongated lamps and outlines of trees join together into a cobbled street that could have been part of nola.

it is always nighttime in louis' domain. }

𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥. 𝐨𝐭𝐚.

[mobezon]

( feel free to wildcard. will match. truly it's just a lil mingle if ppl want to roam around! or chat! drink! ect! pit feelings! )

{ what needed to be said in the letter has been stated. people can show up as they please way into the late hour. the instruments in the back will play lively band, but currently it's set to duke ellington's 'in a sentimental mood'. it's meant to be a lounge sort of feel to it, where the music becomes part of them rather than overpowering. certainly not the gay clubs he spent a generous time with his partner during a better part of a time. that's another atmosphere entirely.

there's a featured drink on the menu. considered america's first mixed drink, the sazerac is one of new orleans' most iconic cocktails. he decided to bring it back for the sake of having something for guests. he's been a host before and he intents to make sure people feel comfortable. the drink can have any base from rye whiskey, cognac or bourbon. the sazerac is complete with absinthe, peychaud's bitters and a twist of lemon. they will appear by will if people approach the bar.

louis is sitting at one of the empty tables, a book in his hands. the pages are blank, have been for some time. he's still trying to figure out what to manifest within it. sometimes the books bring out passages, reaching into some of his favorites. he likes having the comfort of a book in his hand regardless. he's begun to acquire a stack in the rooms and shelves that beg to be filled. he has a hefty illusion of a collection on the third level, but he hasn't touched those.

if not sitting, then he's at the bar, twirling with one of the lemon twists as he considers if he should try it. he's hesitant for some reason. louis keeps using the lemon peel to swirl the alcohol. lastly, louis could also be found up at the second story balcony, his elbows on the railing as he overlooks the venue. how many times has he been there with his immortal companions? watching people. it's empty now. it's only him.

approach louis, and he'll give a welcoming smile, his accent drawled out more than when outside the horizon. he's wearing the tinted glasses he once did when he was dressed to go out. }

Welcome. Pass a good time.

[unwings]

[ cas finds louis on the balcony, looking down at the stage, the tables, the silent piano. all the unnaturally empty places. this home hosts a ghost of liveliness and festivity. music and celebration once lived here, the setting makes it obvious enough, and castiel stands at the vampire's side, watching him for a long moment. consider how it might reflect him. domains, like julie's, are able to contain relatively simple humans that create an ambiance. it seems pointed that they're missing now. ]

You continue to live among humans, even after being turned?

[ never been one for small talk. there's much louis and cas went through together in the pit, pushed to the limits of their morality, dragged back to the edge of it. tumbling over all together. like with istredd, it's a bond forged in fire and tragedy. despite that, there's much he still doesn't know about the man. they share this similar longing for a humanity that isn't meant for them, he knows. cas wonders what drew him.

castiel's known his own beacon, perhaps learned a new, not entirely comfortable aspect of it as of late, that shifts his certainty of himself, of what he tells himself he values and what he may actually mean. he wonders what it must be for his friend. There's a seriousness to him tonight, a conflicted distance, and a bone aching longing surrounded by a fog of confusion, tempered by guilt and shame. it's louder than castiel usually is, typically a low, whispered hum on the emotional scale, but dean - the new, demonic dean - gave him much to think about. too much. ]

What is it that held you?

[mobezon]

{ his domain had been overwhelming at first, but soon he made managed to control it and he's continuing to see how many seams he can keep tied up into perfect little knots. castiel is by his side and louis turns his head, body still leaning against the railing. he gives a sideways grin, one that is glad to see the angel. it falters when he notes the serious demeanor. louis glances back down to the empty tables and the way the candles illuminate them, making it seem like a lighthouse meant to warn sailors away from a potential wreckage.

even if he could create fully realized people in his horizon, he wouldn't. louis hasn't had a fledging. it may be different but he isn't about to start creating as if he were a god over others. the sentiment remains. his eyes glaze to the stage and the tune wants to change to a familiar woman's vocals, but he resists it. }

I did. I was warned I needed to cut ties with my human life.

{ there's a grimace deep inside to knowing he did his own harm. claudia was meant to his redemption, but he ended up hurting her too. his domain may look spry, but louis has always been a deep void of profound hunger trying to desperately keep from swallowing others around him. castiel is asking, and there's a delicacy about it that makes him meet him halfway. }

My sister Grace showed me my tombstone and told me I had to officially die for them to move on. Back then I couldn't accept it, but she done right. I almost ate my newborn nephew. { he knows it sounds ridiculous, but it had been a first instance of his involvement being too deep. there's pain to his words, one he tucks behind poise wording. } I didn't. I did continue to be foolish.

It was one thing to be a vampire with all the power at my palm, but it didn't change that I'd still be regarded below a white man for my existence. I couldn't ignore the injustices I knew intimately on a level my heart companion couldn't understand despite him thinking us superior for having the Dark Gift.

Empty tables

[magicalarchaeologist]

Istredd is not someone who often goes into other people's domains, despite finding them fascinating, because he prefers to be invited into them. As interesting as it is to walk through the Horizon, and as open as he is about people using his domain as much as they like, some part of him prefers to be polite. He's only really wandered into Kyle's by accident, and that was because both of their domains at the time were acting strangely due to the heralds.

This however was an invitation, which means that he comes to it with bright curious eyes looking everywhere. It's very unusual to him, all aspects of it. Istredd comes from what would be called a medieval-adjacent type of time, especially compared to Louis' modern era, so it seems very alien to him. Beautiful though, and unique.

Louis mentioned to him that he had a book in mind, so it seems perfectly suited that he spots him now as he wanders through, at a table with a book in his hands. Perhaps said book. Istredd had moved past the bar on his way and somehow ended up with a drink in his hands. He assumes it's as natural to this place as a reading nook is to his, so he may as well take it with him.

"Louis." Istredd greets him before he makes it to the table so as not to startle him, but he doesn't wait for an invitation to sit down. He's already been invited here, twice. The music is unlike anything he's used to and he sets the drink down, uncertain if he'll drink it yet. "It's beautiful. Your domain."

[mobezon]

They both have an innate politeness that Louis has noted. Some habits are hard to shake off. It could be their respected upbringings or just the way they were made to be built in the environments they had to endure. They were allotted different lives in different worlds, and yet they encounter a path here in the Horizon. Louis isn't one to go about exploring what he isn't invited into, and his visit to Istredd's domain has been quite an experience. He's grateful for it.

Seeing Istredd with a drink in his hand tickles Louis. It almost seems out of place as if the bookworm aspect to Istredd is at face value. Louis has had practice being a chameleon of sorts. Louis motions towards the drink.

"You don't seem like the sort to drink someone under the table. You could also surprise me. Thank you for coming." Truly after the way he left, even if he had stated he was leaving as a courtesy. Louis is in his element as he settles the book down on the table. Ever since he figured he can bring forth from his memory, he's been trying to bring what is ingrained in his head, but the phrases keep flickering in and out. There's a blockage as if he has to recreate a particular text before he can access the others he knows too well.

"Only fair I shared mine since you showed me yours."

[magicalarchaeologist]

Istredd was trained to be unfailingly polite and diplomatic like all of the mages. They had to be ready to be sent to courts and represent the Brotherhood proudly, even for someone like him who preferred to go into research and scholarly pursuits. He also just doesn't really have it in him to be rude. That only happens when it seems necessary, but most people in Thorne have never heard a sharp word out of his lips.

"No, I don't usually drink, but it seemed like the festive thing to do." Drinking anyone under the table was very unlikely. He can stomach more than most people though that could be more due to his altered body than experience. Mages are not humans like everyone else after their ascension. That's why their aging slows to nearly nothing.

He does sip the drink though since it is the thing to do in someone else's space, and it's a bit more intense than the wines or ales he is used to. Not in a bad way. Just surprising with the bitterness and he makes a slight face.

"It's always interesting to see what other people make. I think ... this reminds me of some of the other spheres. Are you from a version of Earth?" That is a word that sometimes happens in the continent, but it's not an accurate description. When all the spheres collided, they became different. "We have many people here from some variety of it. And from different points in time. Technology is near non-existent in mine."

the bar

[assembles]

[ If it weren't for the more personalized letter that Steve had received, it's possible that he wouldn't have come here at all. Getting everyone who'd been abducted together isn't a bad thing, necessarily, but he wonders if it's a little too early to start picking at just-healed wounds. Still, this seems less about dwelling on what they went through and more about moving past it.

Besides, the second letter does mention the prohibition era, which answers some of the questions that Steve had about Louis' mentions of a different time. He may not know much about vampires, but it seems like in this case the part about being immortal (or long-lived?) is true. Granted, he doesn't know what the current year is for Louis, but either way, Steve's curiosity's been piqued.

He doesn't usually visit domains unless he's expressly invited, but it's a treat to show up here. The club that Louis mentioned in his letter has been recreated, and the vibe of a time period that Steve knows very well — even if he'd been up in Brooklyn and nowhere near New Orleans — washes over him.

It stands to reason that he should announce himself to the host before anything else, even if he does already spot a few familiar faces. He finds Louis at the bar and slides onto the stool next to his. ]

Nice place you've got here.

[ Almost as soon as he sits, a Sazerac appears before him. Steve's aware that it's a cocktail strongly associated with New Orleans, so he isn't surprised to see it. After a pause, he lifts the glass and extends it toward Louis. ]

Cheers?

[ Here's hoping he can drink things other than blood. ]

[mobezon]

{ louis has known grief intimately in a way that he might as well be wearing woe as if it were the finest velvet. to him a gathering is a gateway to acknowledging what louis has denied himself for decades, and perhaps on some level it's more for his sake. he's trying to avoid what he has done to himself over and over. he didn't expect everyone to show up. in fact, he was sure that it'll only be him for most of the night.

when he hears steve's voice, there's an instant acknowledgement in the shift of his expression. he's glad to see he's intact with is very eyes. louis himself is a different attire that is distinct, his hair slicked back and wearing a tailored maroon suit. }

Cheers. Should I say Captain? { a slight tease. } The heart grows fonder when thinking of home. Welcome to a little piece of Nola.

{ he has to wonder what steve's domain may present. he invited people over since louis is reserved with what he gives and he won't be poking around into places he's not invited into. it wouldn't be polite. louis lifts the glass up and clanks it against steve's, finding the boldness to take a sip from it. the flavor bursts on his tongue and there's a pleased laugh that tumbles out, unexpected as if he were discovering a newfound joy. in a way, he might be. }

Shit. It's the same. It's my second being able to taste somethin' here. I can't out there.

{ he's not sure what to make of a place that overwrites his nature and brings back his ability to taste even if it may be limited. best to keep on the low about it until he has further information. he still accepts the gift the horizon has given him. }

he has no idea that they're planning a blade movie :(

[assembles]

[ Louis' appearance here in his element is a far cry from what Steve had seen when they first met: a man (vampire?) covered in grime, his face drawn with hunger, his eyes desperate. It's been healing to see everyone out of that situation, no longer bogged down with exhaustion and clawing to survive. ]

Well, it is still my title. [ So he'll respond to "captain," sure. It's not many people who call him that here, given that it's not a detail he shares around much, but he knows now that Louis got bits and pieces of his experiences while feeding from him.

Nola. It's a term of endearment for New Orleans, one used by those who call it home, and Steve once again admires the plush surroundings before returning his attention to the host in order to clink glasses. He takes a testing sip of the cocktail, then a more generous gulp. It's good. There's a burn at first, but a sugary aftertaste follows. ]

... Huh. So the Horizon allows for that? I guess that makes sense, if you have the memory of how it used to taste.

[ Which means he's stumbled onto a question, one that he hopes isn't somehow rude or anything. But now they're here. ]

Is that, uhh, how it works? You used to be human? Vampires don't exist back home, just in fiction. As far as I know, anyway.

[ He's been surprised before. ]

𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠.

[mobezon]

( for any and all that wish to stop by at a later date, just indicate when and louis will appear. )

early june, later.

[gynvael]

[ Complications involving his daughter and a possession—if that is what it was; possession is the simplest term he has for it—means Geralt was not checking for letters. For a man who never stayed in one place for decades, the idea he might receive a personal letter is distant.

When he finally gathers the packages and mail at their door, he realizes the envelope is for him. Surprising, but—from what he's come to know of Louis—fitting, too.

He doesn't give a fuck about community. The invitation is not what catches his attention. It's the implication behind it which prods his curiosity. Louis had seemed...brooding, solitary. Someone Geralt assumed would not care to connect with others. Perhaps the letter makes him reconsider the few pieces he's started putting together about the vampire.

A few days pass before Geralt decides to respond. He sends it to Louis' domain through the Horizon: a rolled up parchment tied with simple twine and delivered by a large white wolf that trots up to the viridian gates. If no one is there, the wolf will deposit the small note on the ground and leave.

And it is a small note: brief—nearly curt. No formalities. The inked handwriting is tidy, without flourishes, carrying the distinct edges of a centuries-old style of script. ]

Gatherings are a pain in my arse, but a decent drink is another matter. Might be convinced to stop by again.

As for you. When you want a bottle strong enough to lay out even a Witcher, find the broken gates in the snow.

Don't mind the wolf.

— Geralt of Rivia