Nadine Cross (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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abraxaslogs2021-11-12 05:08 pm
nadine_he_loves) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-11-12 05:08 pm
Open Horizon Catchall
Who: Nadine and YOU! (One closed starter)
When: November
Where: Horizon/Nadine's Domain
What: Catch-all for the month
Warnings: Will add as needed
[Following Halloween night, Nadine's been spending a great deal of time in the Horizon. Her domain is familiar, comforting, safe. Or at least offers a very solid illusion of safety. Particularly the square. She's often sat on a bench outside the little church, watching the clouds or the fall of autumn leaves and just thinking.
She has a great deal to think about.
Since she was twelve years old, Nadine has known the path of her life. She'd known the rules, known what she had to do, and known where her future led. And she had, for the most part, followed the rules and did what she had to do. Yet here she was, alone - by a certain definition - in a strange world, with none of the things she's been promised.
There's anger left in the wake of Flagg. Anger and fear and a sense of loss she doesn't know how to navigate. Whatever joy there is in the idea of freedom, it's overpowered by all the rest. What would she even do here? What would any of them do? She isn't the only one who's had the rug pulled out from under her. How is she supposed to take care of Lloyd and Julie? And then there's Susan... She isn't even sure exactly how to take care of herself in this world.
And then there's those tantalizing thoughts that hover at the edge of her mind. The ones that do find joy in the prospect of freedom, and how close it truly is. She's already had a small taste of it. There's so much more to life than what she's experienced, the chance to just live is right here. If she's willing to take it.
Sometimes, to try and quiet the storm of thoughts in her head, she wanders to the edge of her domain to add a little something. A pond with geese here, a winding stream with a wooden bridge, a spray of wildflowers... it's just something to occupy her mind, to keep her busy...and maybe just catch the attention of anyone in a nearby domain. A part of her has no real desire to be alone.]
When: November
Where: Horizon/Nadine's Domain
What: Catch-all for the month
Warnings: Will add as needed
[Following Halloween night, Nadine's been spending a great deal of time in the Horizon. Her domain is familiar, comforting, safe. Or at least offers a very solid illusion of safety. Particularly the square. She's often sat on a bench outside the little church, watching the clouds or the fall of autumn leaves and just thinking.
She has a great deal to think about.
Since she was twelve years old, Nadine has known the path of her life. She'd known the rules, known what she had to do, and known where her future led. And she had, for the most part, followed the rules and did what she had to do. Yet here she was, alone - by a certain definition - in a strange world, with none of the things she's been promised.
There's anger left in the wake of Flagg. Anger and fear and a sense of loss she doesn't know how to navigate. Whatever joy there is in the idea of freedom, it's overpowered by all the rest. What would she even do here? What would any of them do? She isn't the only one who's had the rug pulled out from under her. How is she supposed to take care of Lloyd and Julie? And then there's Susan... She isn't even sure exactly how to take care of herself in this world.
And then there's those tantalizing thoughts that hover at the edge of her mind. The ones that do find joy in the prospect of freedom, and how close it truly is. She's already had a small taste of it. There's so much more to life than what she's experienced, the chance to just live is right here. If she's willing to take it.
Sometimes, to try and quiet the storm of thoughts in her head, she wanders to the edge of her domain to add a little something. A pond with geese here, a winding stream with a wooden bridge, a spray of wildflowers... it's just something to occupy her mind, to keep her busy...and maybe just catch the attention of anyone in a nearby domain. A part of her has no real desire to be alone.]
no subject
[What else can one say? He sees no reason to disbelieve her. That is where they come from, she and Julie? A plane nearly devoid of life? One percent... he's not even sure how many would be left.
A new weight to carry with him. He simply cannot imagine it. There had been a time where he was forced to make his way through villages struck by plague, only because the alternative was moving through the forest -- riddled with wargs -- or the bogs, where there were plenty more monsters ready to devour him. He remembers the silence of it, as if even birds would avoid the emptiness. Only a trace of boot and hoofprints in the dirt, fading with the wind.]
Unfortunately for you, the one thing I love most in this world is stories. And learning them. It's part of my being a bard. [His smile is soft, looking at her. This loneliness she carries with her must be an anchor, dragging in the dirt. That she is so different from their night together tells him a bit of what those herbs must have helped her with.]
I'll listen, if you want to tell it. It's your choice whether to keep your secrets. I enjoy your company, whether it remains a mystery or not.
no subject
Yeah. It was pretty much the end of the world.
[Nadine tried. She'd made the effort to change the subject, to try and lift the mood. Jaskier doesn't understand just what he's asking, the dark and weird tale he's offering to listen to.
She doesn't think she's ever even told anyone. Bits and pieces here and there, but never the whole story laid out in its entirety. Oh she's gone over it in her mind hundreds of times, but never shared it. Who else needed all of it? Besides the man who already did.]
You'd probably be better off with the mystery. I'm...not the person you think I am. You know what? I think I could use a drink. Let's go sit on the church steps and break this open.
[She lifts the bottle of wine he'd brought her. Whether or not she decides to offer any of her past to him, she needs a drink.]
no subject
[It isn't the joke. When it comes down to it, it's probably mere chance there was any survival after the Conjunction. And that those planes were most likely destroyed, careening into the earth that holds the Continent... others have gone through similar.
Never did he think he'd speak to a survivor of such tragedy. Two, even.
He looks at the trees reaching towards them overhead, taking in the colors. They're all so precise in their chaos, some even only half-turned. Do they change when Nadine isn't here, when she isn't thinking of them? He's often wondered how much his domain lives on without him when he is not there to witness it.
He drops his gaze with light amusement.] You know, setting yourself up like that doesn't make me any less curious. [With a bit of brighter enthusiasm, he nods. She really would like to?] Of course, please! Let's. I hope you'll like it. I made it personally, you know. I mean -- not only with magic. Magic helped the grapes grow. And I sped up the fermentation.
[He explains as they go to said church, a spot of white as bright as a cloud among all these leaves. As they sit on the steps, he stretches his legs out (normal, human legs, and no hooves. Only fancy, decorated boots with a bit of a heel.)] For you, I went with a red, with blackberries and vanilla. Hopefully you don't mind sweet?
[Considering she had been so terribly sweet that night, and he did not know the person she was. Apparently. (He disagreed, but still.)]
no subject
[She settles on the little steps of the white church, legs folded underneath her demurely. This is alright. Nadine's adjusted to Jaskier suddenly showing up in her domain, and feels more like she has a handle on the situation.
And this topic of conversation she can handle. It still isn't decided, how much she'll tell him, but he hasn't given up yet. She gets the feeling he's not the type that gives up easily.]
I haven't tried growing anything here. Or...doing much, really, besides the school. Not that it's used anymore. No students.
[There'd only been the one, anyway. But the schoolhouse remains, just in case. Maybe she can repurpose it for Julie's magic lessons.]
Did I ever mention I used to be a teacher? I used to be a teacher. Which is not a skill that translates over to anything useful here, since I don't know this world's history or customs or anything. You're lucky you have talents that you can use here.
[This seems like the perfect sort of world for a bard to make a living in. She's seen street musicians in Nott, and the inn has storytellers or players that set up for a few hours in the evening sometimes.]
no subject
A teacher! I wouldn't have guessed. Not as a strike against you, of course, but I notice most people I meet tend to have lofty titles, like knights, or heroes. Or bards. [He was quite sure it wasn't meant as anything, but he nearly feels a bit sheepish at the comment. A teacher of children is a high valuable position, to be sure, but he can see how its use here would be difficult.
Honestly, he's thankful music is universal.]
I suppose I'm quite lucky. This world is not very far from my own at all.
[With a flourish, he crafts them a pair of garnet-studded goblets: a pair he'd seen at a king's table once. He hands one to her with a smile, as well as a corkscrew. In his attempts to craft his gifts, he puts far too much time in keeping it all realistic.]
Do you have magic here, like the others? [He traces his fingertips over the top of the goblet, wondering, do you find much need to be terribly useful?] I'm far from a master of it myself, but I have seen some wonderous things. If you can find a way to capitalize on its use...
[That's likely not helpful at all. He can't imagine how difficult it may be, when one's skillset is limited. He's so used to being around people who make their own way -- himself, the Witcher, even Ciri can hunt monsters.] There are academies and museums in Cadens. Do you not have similar?
no subject
A lot of people are surprised to find out I used to be a teacher.
[For very different reasons. A nice schoolteacher from small town Maine was not what anyone imagined the Dark Man would take for a wife. But they didn't know that it hadn't exactly been his choice, either.
She could correct Jaskier. Tell him that actually, in a dead world, she's queen of one of the last points of civilization. But it doesn't matter.]
Oh, glasses, fancy. I was planning on teens skipping school style, right out of the bottle.
[Now she does laugh, a little bit. It's not as clear and full as Jaskier would be used to from her, but there's something honest in it.]
I'm learning some magic. I...come from a very different world, one without much magic at all. Most people don't even think it's real. I knew for a long time, though.
[And again they're wandering into territory that needs explanation. Nadine looks at Jaskier with a difficult to read expression, thinking.]
I have an idea.
no subject
[Look, he won't puff himself up about the wine before she tries it, but he feels it does deserve its own special glass rather than straight from the bottle (though, honestly, he has no reservations against that.)]
You knew? So you encountered it before. [Then wouldn't that mean it'd always had magic? Ah, perhaps her people are a bit behind the times on magic, then. Or... perhaps they don't have elves. If they were to imagine elves the first to truly harness chaos --
He offers a hand for the bottle to free the cork from its confines. At that little hook of a comment, though, his brow quirks. Ooh. Even more mysterious. He catches on it as any eager fish would.]
Please. Do go on.
no subject
[Nadine amends her comment as she hands over the wine bottle. If Jaskier wants to be fancy, they can be fancy. And the goblets are pretty.
The important thing here is the wine. She's sure she's going to need it now.]
Mmm. Sort of. You said you like stories. So I'll tell you three stories. One of them mine. But I'm not going to tell you which it is. And this isn't a guessing game, either, I'm not going to tell you if you're right or wrong if you try and guess.
[But she can gauge his reactions. And he could just ask Julie, if he really wanted confirmation. But maybe he's the kind of guy that can appreciate a little mystery.]
What do you say?
no subject
I think it's an utterly fascinating idea. One of your teacher-y ideas?
[It's a first for him, but she's got him hooked. And to never know which one is true? Gods, she knows a hook. A good one.]
Promise I won't guess. But I will ask questions, if allowed. I love the details.
no subject
[She nods in agreement as she takes the goblet.]
And you can ask questions. You might not get an answer, but you can ask.
[She lifts her drink in a bit of a toast before taking a sip. Oh, that is good, and she makes an appreciative noise. Nadine's never been much of a drinker, but she enjoys a nice wine. And this is nice wine.]
This is good. Alright. It's story time.
[She clears her throat and calls up her storytelling voice - not used since she had a proper classroom and a class full of seven year olds. Also called up is a book she once read, one that would work well for this little experiment.]
Once upon a time, there was a little girl who got lost in the woods. Very lost. At first it was alright, because it was a nice day...but then it started to get dark. And cold. And the little girl was still very, very lost.
She managed to find some berries and a stream to drink from, and the hollow of a tree to sleep in. But the next day she was still lost, and wandered much deeper into the forest. Deeper than anyone ever went. She walked and walked until she came to a very bad place. But the little girl didn't know it was a bad place until it was too late. And a very dark, ancient, and evil thing that lived in that place found her. And it touched her. And it marked her.
She didn't remember exactly what happened, but she woke up back at the edge of the woods where she could find her way home. Only she was different now, and somehow everyone could tell. Her family grew cold, her parents were scared of her, her friends left her, and she was sent away to grow up in a place where she was all alone. Even when she grew up, she was still marked, and no one could seem to bear to get close to her. But she tried. She did all the things she was supposed to, but everything she touched was touched by the dark, too. Everything she managed to find, every job, every friend, every home, every person who might love her, she lost.
And then the world ended.
no subject
Damn. If he wasn't such a good bard, he may have run a very nice vineyard.
Jaskier sets his goblet down between his feet and rubs his hands together, getting comfortable for the story. It's so rare that anyone tell him one... especially when his company was often Geralt, who had never told an entire story in his life.
She has the voice for it. The countenance. Already he can see she would make a good teacher to those who would listen. And he did. Quite happily, really. Though he couldn't quite help himself, with their being in the Horizon.
At their feet, a shadowing girl was walking through tall, pale trees, their limbs spreading out. Much like the illusions of his birds, the images were somewhat translucent, but solid looking enough to be plucked from the ground.
A dark, evil thing. A swirl of black smoke that grew four legs, stepping out from between the trees to press its muzzle against her chest, four antlers spreading out like hands from its head.
And then the girl. With two tiny antlers sprouting from her head.
When the story was over, he refilled her wine, smiling.] I suspect every story intends to end that way.
[He didn't think this one was hers, though. To have lost everything she gained... no. He thought she was too quiet for that. Too kind, in those softer moments. Ah. She did have the horns, though that imagery was mere coincidence.
In the end, how much did he truly know of her so far?]
no subject
They all end that way.
[She nods in agreement. Of course they do, he knows her world ended. They have to end that way. She takes another sip of wine, starting to feel it a bit.]
Story number two.
[She readjusts how she's sitting, unfolding her legs to get a bit more comfortable. Her voice drops again, into that particular voice she uses for story time. She'd used it with Lloyd, too, late at night in bed in the castle, telling him old fairy tales until he fell asleep.
These fairy-tales were different. This one in particular.]
Once upon a time, there was a little girl that no one wanted. She had no family, and no friends, and she was very alone. All she wanted was someone to save her. Then one day, she thought someone did. A magic man came to her in her dreams, and told her they'd been promised to each other by fate. That one day she would be his queen, the queen of a dark and powerful land, and all she had to do was be his. And the little girl was so happy, and promised herself to the magic man. He kept visiting her, and became her constant companion and confidante, always in her mind.
But the magic man was a demon king who just looked like a man, and he used the girl to do terrible things. But she did them, because she had promised, and because as she grew up she grew to love this terrible thing. And because a part of his darkness lived inside her now, marking her. She'd do anything to be with him, even awful things that made her sick. She debased herself and dirtied her hands and did unholy things and lost everything that ever mattered to her.
But when the time was right, she'd go to him, and take her place by his side, and become something like him.
But then the world ended, and everything changed.
no subject
He tops off their wine, his first goblet having been vanquished.
Jaskier crafts the images more carefully this time. The shade of a girl with a hole in her chest. A magic man? He cannot help but think of the djinn, and the swirling gale that crafted its form, a face moving in and out of the vague outline of it.
Queens, now, he has so much experience with. And thus the girl ages, a crown on her head as she rises above a castle.
Only at the word demon does he look up in distraction, staring at her. A demon? Geralt's told him of them before. And thus does the gusty djinn turn into a man with red eyes, coils of darkness radiating off of him. A spirit possessing a man. A creature wearing a suit.
This one he's already set aside. Nadine is quiet, and he imagines she must be lonely, but all of it doesn't seem to fit. A queen of darkness? Demons? Demons don't have kings. (Okay. To be fair, he didn't know what an angel was, either.) But moreso than that, it is hard to imagine the woman next to him, in her cozy sweater, delicately sipping from a goblet, loving a creature. Participating in awful things.
He can easily guess what that might mean.]
Are you sure the girl wasn't already a demon herself? [He snorts, swirling his wine.] Where I'm from, it's said they travel in pairs.
no subject
She doesn't react to his question, either, aside from, tipping up her wine goblet for a hearty swig.]
I'm pretty sure. That's not how it works where I come from. Or maybe it does. Maybe she would have become a demon, eventually.
[The thought has occurred to her more than once, certainly since that conversation with Flagg in the market. All his talk of the price of his powers, how she could become something akin to him. Maybe he'd planned for that.]
Last story. Once upon a time there was a little girl who's mother died when she was a baby. She couldn't even remember her. But when she was six, her father married someone new. He thought it would be good, for the little girl to have a mother.
Only his new wife was no mother. She didn't like children, and hated the little girl, and she had secrets neither ever would have guessed. She was very cruel to the little girl, but hid it from the girl's father, and used magic to blind him to her truth. And he didn't believe the girl, and just thought she was acting out and wasn't used to having to share him.
And then the girl's father died, and she was left all alone with this cruel and terrible woman and the dark, secret powers she had. Even when she got older, she was only allowed to leave the house to work, to support her cruel step-mother. She wasn't allowed to have friends or a life of her own. And because of her step-mother's magic, there was nothing she could do. She didn't even know how to make a friend or live her own life. She'd think about fighting back, about running away, about doing something.
But she never could. She suffered and wept and lived with cruelty and abuse every day, hiding it as best she could. All her life, that was all she knew.
Until the world ended.
no subject
At any rate, it's only a story. One of three.
He quiets again for the third one. He begins imagining this one if only to match the other two, but as Nadine goes on and he feels a sort of dread knot in his throat, the images eventually fade.
Jaskier is not sure. To him, this sounds like the most plausible one. Her father would hardly be the first to be tricked and blinded by magic and pretty things. And if Nadine was anything, she was lonely, the sense like an aura radiating from her.
But because it's so plausible, because it fits so well, he's suddenly not sure.]
None of these have an ounce of happiness in them. [He huffs a breath through his nose, drinking deep. And pauses.] Except the second one, funny enough. The only time you mentioned it. The one where the happiness is present, yet seems the least real.
no subject
[That's no deep, guarded secret. But she can understand Jaskier's puzzlement. He'd met her under very specific circumstances, and very unusual ones at that.
Which isn't fair to him.]
When you met me at the party...Julie had given me something. To make me feel happy and relaxed and really good. That's the same reason she introduced us, because she figured you could also make me happy and feel good, for a little while. And you did, don't take me acting differently than that night to mean I have regrets or anything. This is just the real me. And I figured we'd never see each other again, so I'd never have to deal with you meeting the real me. She's...not nearly as fun or likeable.
[Nadine knows herself. She knows what she is. Oh she can fool people into believing she's something else, quite well when she puts in the effort, but she doesn't feel like all that effort right now. And it's only fair. He's wasting his time being sweet to her. He's nice.
She's poison to nice people. She ruins them.
Just look at what had happened to Larry.]
no subject
Ah, yes. The herbs. [Look, it's enough to hear he did, even for a time, make her happy. Happiness can be fleeting.
Now he can't decide what story suits her most. Reflects this sadness most. There is the chance, of course, that no story is true, either. He wouldn't hold it against her if she played that sort of game.]
Well, I do so hate to crush your ambitions, but you are far from the worst company I've ever had. And besides. My usual company is neither fun nor likable, and I still like him quite fine.
[It's hard to tell someone in the right terms you needn't pretend happiness for me. He doesn't care either way. Geralt's about as far from the Sun that's emblazoned on Jaskier's clothing as this sphere is from his own. Neither fun nor likable. And still his best friend.] You know, I feel you put a bit too much effort in putting a warning sign on yourself. At least with me. I have a particular talent for ignoring them.
no subject
[But Jaskier's making it clear that he's not a man to be discouraged. What does he even want? Nadine can't imagine that the idea of her friendship is that enticing. Even so, she can recognize a prettily worded 'you aren't getting rid of me' when she hears one.]
I'm just...giving you what you need to make a fully informed decision.
[Sort of. At least the clear distinction between herself and the self she'd been when they'd met.]
I'm not going to tell you to go away, but I wouldn't blame you if you did.
[And he'd probably be better off for it.]
no subject
[She's getting it. No, he isn't discouraged. If he was turned off by a bit of moroseness or, the gods forbid, a bit of depressing company, why, he'd practically have no friends at all at this point.
Perhaps she has her dark secrets, as all three stories would prove. And yet, at this rate, who doesn't? (Besides him, obviously, unless a few full decades of cucking boring butchers and noblemen serves as a dark secret.
Except he's happy to talk about it, so.)]
I shan't go anywhere. [He taps her goblet with a finger, waiting until it's lowered to fill it again. In true Horizon fashion, it's as if the bottle of wine has only barely been touched, still full as it was when they opened it.] Perhaps the warnings would've been heeded should I not have learned what a talented storyteller you are. [His smile is teasing, held over the brim of his cup before he drinks.] I would like to return for more, should you have them.
[Or else he's happy to tell some instead.]
no subject
I'm happy to tell you stories whenever you'd like.
[That she can do. She knows plenty of them, and a lot of them with much happier endings than the ones shared today. And maybe he'd be willing to share some from his world.]
But for now...I do have to go to work in the real world and I don't want to lose track of time and end up late.
[She finishes her goblet of wine and sets it aside, but before she stands, she leans in to give Jaskier a very quick kiss on the cheek. He'd gone to all this effort, and listened to her, and she doesn't want to send him off thinking there's any sour feelings between them.]
Thank you again for the wine.