[closed]

[cryptsleeper]

Who: Alucard and others
When: Post-event 18
Where: Free Cities
What: Fall out and catch up
Warnings: Added as needed



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Comments

Jaskier

[cryptsleeper]

[The desert is clarifying.

It always is.  Alucard would not have built his was-going-to-be-a-crypt-but-now-it-isn't out there if he did not find the place helpful.  For a few days, he howls and runs as a wolf, taking his food from the hunt and refusing to be people shaped.  He works through the anger, through the exhaustion, through the miserable feelings of where he erred, and sorts everything.  Categorizes what he can to decide if he needs to talk about it more or if it can be put to rest.   Sometimes he speaks to himself in the cave and courtyard, and other times he simply lets sleep take him because that's easiest.

A week later, he returns to civilization.  Not theirs is a refrain that hangs heavy in his mind.  To be human is to be Summoned, to accept apotheosis is to have that freedom, but at different costs.  Where the balance lies is the question now, and that is a matter that Alucard knows he cannot solve in a vacuum.

Home is still the cactus.  Second-home is the office, and that is where he goes.  It is a coin toss to determine if Jaskier will be there or not.  The bard did not sound well when Alucard noted him on the little network all Summoned shared.

When he opens the door, it is clear the bard is not well.   Far be it from Alucard to accuse anyone of using making food as a form of therapy, but there are little Mog-prints made of flour that lead to the kitchen and...

...a kitchen very much covered in small pieces of dough stuffed with food.  His domain, but being reigned over by Jaskier.

Very quietly, Alucard comes to lean in the doorway, one eyebrow lifting gently.]

Julian?

[cointosser]

[Jaskier cannot recall the last several days. What he did, where he was, or what he spoke.

What do they call it? A fugue state? A fuck state, if you ask him, because he is every fuck there is right now -- fucking exhausted, fucking lost, fucking falling into memories that impossible, fucking nowhere and everywhere at once.

He feels he has lost something he cannot describe, cannot hold, and cannot have again.

Alucard walks into what could only be a man's complete mental breakdown pressed and ground down into the form of flour. It coats the counters, and Jaskier's hands, and the only reason it doesn't appear to cover his shirt is that his shirt is already white. There's flour on his face, where's he's either slapped his cheeks or wiped away tears, and his eyes are red.

Even Mog is covered in flour, and has escaped to his little bed, eyeing Jaskier warily. Considering neither a ravioli nor a bread roll has fallen to tempt him, he keeps some distance from the kitchen now.

Jaskier raises a hand to wave over his shoulder, then goes back to carefully pinching the ends of a new ravioli shape he is calling "misshapen inspiration." It seems to have a needless amount of crimping.]

Oh, Adrian. Morning, and all that. Or is it afternoon? Haven't really been keeping too much track, you know, since it's ceased to have any meaning -- can you hand me that bowl of ground duck? I'm trying something new.

[cryptsleeper]

It is afternoon. Are any of these cooked? I just got in off the road.

[Alucard is starting small and basic, because frankly taking in the sheer extent of Jaskier's handiwork is well. A lot. He isn't sure there is a flat surface in the kitchen not covered in flour or a ravioli or bread or....god, did he make pierogi too? It feels as if this should be his madness, not Jaskier's.

Still.

The dhampir walks over, handing Jaskier the ground duck.]

Is this all from today?

[cointosser]

[Right. He's been at this for several hours already, and when he awoke he's rather sure it was still dark... so yes, the afternoon suits. Enough sunlight comes through the windows that his way is easily lit, not to mention the fire in the stove.]

Not yet. I've already boiled several batches. At least two of them I ate myself.

[To make sure they were tasty enough to bother sharing. One with squash (grown himself, thank you) and one with basil and pine nuts. The crunchiness added a strange element to the pasta, but not one he disfavored.

Jaskier is explicitly trying not to think about the fact that his brain is now near-bursting with information of what he can grow: that is, everything. He can grow anything he wants, within reason. But once, he could grow an entire forest in an hour. He could populate it. He could burn it down.

He takes the bowl, sprinkling salt in to mix with a bit of crushed garlic.]

Well, clearly it's from today, Adrian. Do you think I'd leave a bunch of pasta sitting out overnight?

[He's losing it.]

[cryptsleeper]

Do you have one you'd like me to try out?

[He's trying to keep things gentle. Surface. Let Jaskier set the pace, because Alucard has often been on the other side of this equation and he knows what always made it easier for himself. Starting there and then adjusting accordingly seems like the wisest way forward.]

In truth, I wanted to make sure you slept. Is there a place for me to sit?

[There's...not much table space, Alucard doesn't know if there's pasta on the chairs. It seems plausible.]

[cointosser]

These. [He answers easily, scooping up several still warm ravioli -- as if he'd only boiled them moments ago -- into a bowl, filled with a combination of strong, fragrant cheese and lemon. He has all this time, as many ingredients as he wants or needs... why not try new combinations? He tops it off with a bit of thickened cheese sauce, peppered with bits of oregano and sage. Herbs he knows, without thinking for a moment, both inside and out. Plants he has cultivated and gifted and grown for a hundred years each.

Jaskier begins kneading a very wet sounding mass in a bowl, his rings clicking together and, by now, surely stuck to his skin forever. He'll never get every bit of dough out between the cracks.]

You never usually ask so many questions. [Jaskier stiffens, turning to look at Adrian finally. Even when he passed him the testing ravioli, he hadn't looked him in the eyes. Space to sit is clearly the furthest thing on his mind, especially considering he's got flours in every bit of him down to his unmentionables at this point. Sit anywhere.] You think I'm going mad, don't you?

[cryptsleeper]

Mad? No.

[He takes the offered ravioli and then goes to get a fork, because who the hell eats pasta with their fingers?

Fork in hand, he pulls out one of the chairs. It's covered in flour, yes, but not pasta so he'll sit.]

Overwhelmed and drowning in a wave of emotion? Yes. Something I've experienced many times before. [He pauses, taking the first bite of ravioli and--] Oh, that's wonderfully sharp.

[cointosser]

[Jaskier eats it with his fingers! Hello, the Continent barely had silverware at the best of times. However, they're clearly more dignified than that, and -- oh, god, he remembers the Continent.

He's not sure if that's a good thing, or a terrible one.

He doesn't want to remember Rience, or his heart breaking, or that demon, or --

He takes in a sharp breath, releases it. He watches Alucard with something unfathomable behind his eyes, stealing their usual glow. He was hoping his friend would simply agree. Going mad seems easy, doesn't it?] I don't want to think about it.

[And Alucard's last drowning in a wave of emotion was related to patricide, and unfortunately Jaskier no longer has a father within reach to take it out on. He's not sure if it would help much, either.] You like it? Am I onto something here?

[cryptsleeper]

I don't think anyone does. [Alucard settles into his pasta bowl, now contemplating the sauce.] It is the compression that time that is the hardest for me. Experiencing all of that, then returning to the world and...being expected to function again. There's no catharsis in that.

[He pauses, taking another bite of the pasta.] I think the sauce should be a little lighter. Maybe olive oil with herbs and fried garlic to offset the herbs, rather than this heavier sauce. Which I don't don't like, but could be paired with something meatier.

Viktor

[cryptsleeper]

That's the last of it.

[Alucard gives a final twist of the wrench, then stands to look at the finally installed drain cover that is a part of the elaborate underground bunker complex that should have been finished five weeks ago.  Being incapacitated lead to understandable delays, and a few manufacturing errors that necessitated reaching out to Viktor to help with.  The drains, when not in use, are meant to a firm cover, that way no one falls all the way down to a stone floor.  Things were oversized and otherwise not cut correctly for the intended hardware.  Hence reaching out to Viktor to get creative about it.

The dhampir is aware that they've not spoke about their last conversation.  He has no desire to approach it, as getting the project through the deadline is far more pressing.]

Everything else you assisted with is working and functional.  I can ask one of the engineers to give you a walk through, if you'd like to confirm that everything is in alignment.

[techmaturgy]

[It is, as always, easier to get back to work. Viktor has gone through his week of self-imposed exile, but he can only remain idle for so long. The request to return to Aquila and provide a final once-over of the bunker is possibly the least he can do, even if he is not sure if Alucard even wants him there.

Best to focus on the project, instead of the things they should be talking about. When he arrives, it's to act professionally, walking through the various sections of the bunker and making a mental note of punchlist items before arriving at the drainage issue in question.]

Is it a manufacturing error, or something in the design itself?

[cryptsleeper]

I think a little of both, plus transportation. It was not my responsibility to make the road here easier to travel, and I suspect the terrain bent a few things out of shape.

[He shrugs. Taps his foot against the cover.]

It's all installed now, ready for testing. If you're ready and willing to oversee it.

[techmaturgy]

[Viktor supposes that whatever happened in transit is not necessarily his problem, especially if everything has been beaten back into shape and installed. That doesn't necessarily mean no imperfections remain, so it's good that Alucard asked him here.

Even if it may have involved some swallowing of pride. Viktor does his best to be professional, but the unspoken argument between them still hangs in the air.]

Please. [He gestures at the drain system.] I'd like to see this finished.

[Especially because he imagines they'll need it sooner rather than later.]

[cryptsleeper]

The viewing area is this way.

[This way means out of the drain room, down a corridor where a small crew is standing on scaffolding doing something, and into one of the guard rooms that runs on a number of spy glasses to provide constant watch around the property. Alucard greets one of the workers, makes a few remarks before introducing Viktor and explaining the drain system is entirely due to him, and then--

--well, they're all sure standing around a giant mirror, watching water begin to trickle into the drain room. A trickle becomes a steady stream, becomes a standing pool, and so the water level goes up, up, up and--

Open the drain, please.

Alucard stands perfectly still as the sound of metal moving indicates that the drain is indeed open.]

[techmaturgy]

[The memories of the invented future are slowly starting to feel more and more dream-like, but what Viktor does remember is how everything made him feel. The walk down the corridor is heavy, every groan of his brace's hinge reminding him of their new (old) reality. It's with some effort that he enters the guard room, nodding in response to the introductions and offering a few cursory hellos of his own.

What he's really interested in is how everything works. Viktor peers into the mirror, watching the scene unfold in silence. It's difficult not to imagine this in the worst case scenario--water filling the bunker while refugees attempt to take shelter inside. He finds himself holding his breath until he hears the sound of the drain and the water begins to recede.]

It seems to be functioning as intended.

[cryptsleeper]

Mmm. Let's up the water flow.

[Alucard turns around behind them and says a few things to one of the technicians. The drain closes, but the water does not stop flowing. Instead of a healthy stream it is now more of a rush. The exact sort of flow that you'd expect from an attempt to drown out a bunker.

He tenses as the water fills the room, as the sound of the drain opening begins. It is barely audible over the water but--

--even as it starts to open, the levels begin to lower. Alucard doesn't smile. Not until the drain is fully open and it seems the water is being removed as intended.]

And it can handle a rush. I'm inclined to say fill the whole room up and see how fast it clears out. Yourself?

[techmaturgy]

[He'll let Alucard give the orders--this is his project, after all, and Viktor is technically a consult. Still, he watches with rapt attention, keeping an eye out for anything that might indicate a blockage, or the system not operating as intended. Making sure this functions properly might be a matter of life or death someday, and he wants to make sure nothing is missed.

Alucard seems to have the same idea. They need to exhaust all possibilities as best they can, to make sure it's safe.]

Push the system to its limit.

Sten, forward dated to June

[cryptsleeper]

[Nocwich being open again is, in and of itself, a small miracle. He cannot begin to imagine what kind of work it took between Luna and Ikorr to make it happen, but it happened and that is all that matters. He'd be happy enough to stock up on blood wine and make the most of romping through the hunting grounds for this particular opening, but hearing from Sten? That has his attention.

There's an apology to offer at some point in their discussion, Alucard knows that much. The entire imagined reality of what happened to Luna due to siding with Ikorr has weighed heavily on his mind. He is unsure if mentioning it is wise at the moment. Sten's message did not seem to suggest that there would be room for far ranging discussions.

When Alucard arrives at the edge of the Square, he takes care not to be empty handed. He has with him a gâteau invisible smelling of sweet apples with a balanced bit of salt, along with a quick blueberry-and-thyme jam that is meant for any use at all, be it with bread or meat or just on it's own when no one is looking. He's taken care to look a little less formal as well. Alucard does not have his usual coat on him - it is only his tunic and black trousers, carrying a basket like a Wallachian grandmother.

He offers the basket first.]

Thank you for reaching out. For what it is worth, if you sent word earlier, I might not have received it immediately.

[abraxasnpcs2]

[ The past months were a big headache but Sten is a proponent of playing nice if only for the sake of his werewolves. Nocwich is certainly fragile enough between larger forces beyond and the Feywilds. They don't need more infighting, too.

Tensions among the Ikorrans and the Luane are hard to miss. Nonetheless, they've reopened the Square without bloodshed for the most part. It gives him the opportunity to send a message to a Summoned he's spoken to in the past. He's found a curious item he thinks Alucard would want to look at. Decisions made in the heat of the moment were disappointing, sure, but the Summoned are valuable allies.

Scrumptious bribes help. Sten receives the basket cheerfully. ]

Ah! A generous offering. You shouldn't have.

[ He puts the basket on the table and opens it up. How delicious! ]

I heard about that. Sorry for the troubles you went through. How are you doing?

[cryptsleeper]

I wasn't raised to show up to a meeting like this empty handed.

[Alucard is particularly proud of the cake, never mind glad to have a project that is not based on construction. Recent events have rattled his feelings about continuing in that line of work, at least for a little while.

Sten values honestly, and so his reply is honest in turn. The dhampir makes a point to avoid sounding especially weary, mostly because he feels he has no right to it.]

I'm managing. Others had more intense experiences that have them in need of more time, and truthfully, I believe having the Square open again is helpful in achieving that goal. [He's debated sharing details of what went on in the 800 years that wasn't with Sten, given the guilt Alucard felt in regards to Luna in that reality. Out of every official he's run into over his time in Abraxas, Sten strikes Alucard as one of the few who could use it without doing too much harm. And possibly provide perspective.] There are a few details on that front I would like to share with you, but after we've discussed what you found first.

[abraxasnpcs2]

Good, good. I'm pleased to hear you've looked forward to our reopening.

[Sten takes out the cake. It plops casually onto a plate he produces from a cupboard, and he cuts a few slices. He indicates for Alucard to share in the spoils.]

I won't hide that Ikorr and Luna equally believe the Summoned are a vital part of our thriving economy. That contributed to our decision to, ah, look past our differences, if you may.

[This attitude is applicable to where the Square is concerned, but less so in other areas.

Certainly, the item in question. Sten slides an envelope across the table. Inside it, Alucard will find a deceptively plain pamphlet that's quite wrinkled and worn. On it is: an address somewhere in Ikorr, the symbol of the Page of Pentacles - right-side up; not Josselyn Creed's inverted mark - and a short excerpt inviting the reader to open their minds to "pleasing the ancient power" so as to "usher in a New Day."

Sten taps the minor Arcanum stamped on the page, then rubs his chin with the same finger.]

It was found pinned behind some other pamphlets, must've been there ages. I trust that symbol's familiar to you, hm?

[cryptsleeper]

For whatever it took to get to that point, we are all grateful.

[Alucard is not going to say no to partaking of his own work, at least when it comes to food. This particular apple cake is a whim, an attempt to make a knock off of something he had in Cadens back in the fall. The scent is pure apples, sweet and crisp mixing with tart-bordering-on-sour with a hint of citrus. He's happy with it, which means it all absolutely fades once Sten slides the pamphlet over.

What little color Alucard naturally has disappears as takes in the sign and phrasing. A New Day indeed. Too sharp gold eyes move back to Sten, heart racing.]

The symbol and the phrase. I first heard talk of a new day when residents of the Wilds invited us to their lands almost a year ago. It was so soon after Josselyn's little adventure that it immediately set my teeth on edge.

[abraxasnpcs2]

I see.

[Any topic involving the Fey is naturally worrisome. They're a bigger threat than Ikorr to Luna, though it's odd indeed that this sign would appear the way it did in Solvunn, with one of their people. ]

I admit, I'm unsure of the connection between Solvunn and the Feywilds, if any. Nonetheless, this bit of parchment warrants investigation. Unfortunately, with the location being in Ikorr, my people are unable to access it. Since our interests align, I thought you might do us the favor of letting me know what you find if you go there. Should it strike your personal curiosity, naturally. The Luna wouldn't ask the Summoned to act in Ikorr on their behalf.

[ That would be terribly unwise under the circumstances. ]

[cryptsleeper]

Something tells me that if we asked Solvunn about a connection, none would speak of this. The symbol on this flyer has been found in Thorne as well, and I know some Summoned who have attended the meetings there - but details have not been forthcoming.

[Alucard exhales slowly, committing the address in Ikorr to memory. There is still one hurdle of course, and that merits mentioning.]

Their gates are still closed to us Summoned outside of their invitations. I'm not sure I can gain entry on a whim, unless you have suggestions.

[The sharing of information, however, goes without saying.] If I learn anything, I'll share it, ideally in person rather than committing such things to correspondence. I suspect this new day impacts us all.

[abraxasnpcs2]

The folks of Solvunn are good friends, but we all have our interests to guard. I'm not surprised to hear that this has been discovered beyond Nocwich. These things usually come from foreign actors.

[ Luna, in Sten's opinion, has a firm grasp on their community, and he imagines he would have known far sooner than this if it were rooted in their home.

Ah, yes, as for Ikorr, he has some news on that end, as well. ]

According to our sources, that might change soon - although I'd entreat you to keep that information to yourself.