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abraxaslogs2021-12-11 04:25 pm
The Festival of Enlightenment - The Free Cities
In the Free Cities, Enlightenment has come once more.
In each major hub, lanterns and lights of every kind are being hung everywhere. On every storefront, every sidewalk, every home and every fence. From elaborate custom made lanterns with color changing lights to simple hand carved candle lanterns and everything in between. By the time Enlightenment proper rolls around, the three major cities are bedecked in lights..
Lanterns and elaborate candle holders and artfully carved candles are going on sale everywhere. Flyers are being plastered on walls announcing The Annual Circus of The Sciences! The latest and most impressive inventions from every corner of the Free Cities! Hosted by Prime Minister Reiner herself!
This is a time to celebrate technology. Free from a dependency on magic, The Free Cities thrive in this time of literal and metaphorical darkness. The phrase ‘lights for Enlightenment!’ is on every citizen’s lips. In the evenings, night markets pop up in the streets. Vendors offering little mechanical toys and decorations set up, as well as the latest street cuisines, and light up jewelry to celebrate the holiday. Pendants, earrings, headpieces, bracelets... some of them glow due to naturally occurring substances, some have chemical reactions activated with the press of a button that make them light up and twinkle.
In Cadens the focus is on inventions and the latest technological advancements, the buzz about this year’s Circus of The Sciences spreading through the city. On Enlightenment Day, in front of Portham Hall, the greatest inventors from all over the Free Cities gather to show off their greatest inventions, each vying to win the coveted prize of government funding. All inventions are on display to the public - there’s a great deal of talk about an engine powered entirely by steam! - and judged by a team of Ministry officials.
Yet none judge quite as harshly as the infamous Head Judge, Aleksander G. Klingel. Known not only for his own contributions to Cadens innovations and technological milestones, but for his biting commentary during the competition itself. Some of the less technologically minded have even made it a point to attend just to see what the winning insult will be this year...
"I wouldn't trust you running a bath let alone a hydroplane."
"Are you a stuffed puppet? Because your head must be filled with felt to come up with something this inane."
"This is really a tough decision... because you're all crap."
And even the summoned have a role to play, if they so choose. Aleksander is more than happy to compensate any of the Summoned for their time... if they’d just participate in a teeny little holiday experiment. All they need to do is hold a metal rod for a few minutes. Aleksander promises it’s not dangerous, that little tingle is perfectly normal...
In Libertas and Aquila, new plays and performances are debuting - and all seem to have a common theme: the power and superiority of technology over magic. Even overheard conversations may espouse the same ideals - how strange that the other kingdoms still rely on magic, it’s just irrational! The theme of technology and light are found even in the newest fashion collections, unveiled for the season, utilizing reflective fabric and metals.
Should anyone ask a local how long, exactly, this holiday is celebrated for, they’ll be told that in honor of the light of technology triumphing over the dim, the festivities last all day and all night. Come the day, the street markets open in the morning and stay open until the next morning. There’s singing and drinking in the streets, everyone trying to stay up until dawn to show that the spirit of the Free Cities will never go dark. Starting with The Circus of The Sciences, kicked off by a speech from Prime Minister Marlo.
Standing on the steps of Portham Hall, wearing her formal military garb, is Prime Minister Marlo Reiner. She holds up her hands for silence from the crowds.
"Welcome, once again, to another celebration of the Enlightenment! We’re gathered together to celebrate and illuminate all the hard work that each and every one of you do, every day, to make our Free Cities what they are! We’ve cut ties with relying on magic to do everything for us and we thrive! Even now, in the darkest part of the year when the rest of the world struggles, we thrive! Because we rely on ourselves! Your minds are more powerful than magic and nothing can dim your light!
"So let’s have a good time! Starting with the Circus of The Sciences! Enjoy the best of what the human mind has accomplished, and if you see something you really like, I don’t think a single one of our inventors would refuse a donation. Judges will be making the rounds soon.
"Here’s to another year of changing the world!"
With a thunderous roar of applause, The Day of Enlightenment officially begins!
(Coming soon! The events of December 21st and beyond will depend on player actions...)
dinosaur shaped ones, even. i cant believe jaskier unlocked the secret trauma
It isn't something that he wants to test. But here and now, there's no other option but the truth. So the truth it will have to be, even as all of Alucard wants to turn into bats and flee into the desert sands.]
I'd thank you to keep this between us. Only one other person is even aware.
[Not Geralt, not Hector good god, no one.]
The context hardly matters. They were houseguests that feigned romantic interest in me, and then restrained me during an intimate act and tried to take my life. [They's soft words, but the notes in Alucard's voice suggest that he's trying to drain the emotion of it. That this is just a sad fact and nothing more, not raw trauma he's been shoving back down into his mind so he can remotely function.] Self defense, and then...trying to prevent house guests.
literally this is the opposite of anything I intentioned
What, does Alucard think he would sing of this? He nods, and his face is no longer reaching for the jokes and jests he would use to alleviate the mood.
There is no chance for it now. To his credit, he did not mean to meander onto the dhamphir's past like this. A few tidbits about his parents could be fun. And then he'd thrown in that his father had, you know, skeletons --
It's Jaskier's fault for not being able to let it lie.
He remains silent as Alucard does, surprisingly, offer explanation. And as he hears it, he would heavily disagree that the context does not matter. It matters terribly. He lifts his hand, curls his fingers, lays it back down. It isn't necessarily the reason Alucard is aloof where it comes to touch, but he certainly wouldn't blame him if it was.
Jaskier releases a breath, scrubbing his face with a faint fuck behind his hands. When he drops them, his heart is heavier for this new weight. What does one even say to that? It is one thing to be so betrayed. But it is fully something else to suffer this on top of heartbreak. Of course it was nothing so... well, he did not mess about with bodies, but he'd nearly made a terrible mistake after his own heartbreak, too.] I'm so sorry, Alucard. That you went through that.
[He would be quite the hypocrite if he blamed him for that. For defense. For... doing what people do, backed into a corner. From lashing out. It's terrible and brutal and -- that's what the Continent has proven to him, time and time again. That people are terrible, and brutal... especially in defense of their own hearts.]
I know. We need to go back!!
It does beg the awkward question of how does one react to information like that? Gideon's response had been supportive. Peppier, but that was also her nature and one of the reasons Alucard felt comfortable sharing. Jaskier feels like a gamble. Not that he'd be so judgemental as to react horrifyingly right out, but Alucard can't gauge if there will be any distancing after.
There's a lot of relief that they're still walking though, that the bard can't see the little facial tics that are trying to keep this a calm, straight forward explanation rather than an emotional torrent (he'd laugh with the eye of the storm comparisons. Far too correct.)
But there is a very hollow laugh that follows Jaskier's words, and finally Alucard turns his face slightly. That thin mask of calm is still there, wanting to stay there.]
Small wonder Thorne pulled me here only days later and threw me in a hole.
how do we turn the car around???
Jaskier still walks beside him. He isn't going anywhere, not now. Not after that. Though he would not be shocked if the man beside him became wolf, or bats, and escaped to somewhere he couldn't reach. His face, once turned to him, says enough. Says, exactly, how raw this thing he's stumbled into is.
And what it could mean that Alucard said it at all.]
For fuck's sake, you can't believe that, can you? You didn't deserve to be thrown in a cage. [Not for this. And neither did Geralt, though even now... he's not sure Geralt would argue the same, either. Though now it makes sense, that Alucard was so wary of his friend. A Witcher caged with a dhampir who'd done this.] I'm not condemning you for something you did to protect yourself.
i don't know, bear is driving at this point
Alucard's legs were right in remembering a park near by. It is now ahead, string of lights strung along the trees in the distance. At this point, Alucard lets out a long, heavy sigh.]
Would you mind if we sat down?
the steering wheel is now gone, one tire's blown, we're veering off the road
Ah. Well. [How embarrassing. He clears his throat. Look, this is what happens when you spend too much time with the dumb sort of company who may think that. When people do get thrown into cages for things they were forced to do. A frequent occurrence back him that, apparently, has left its mark.]
My apologies.
[And his sincerity is equally gentle.] I'd say it's about the shittiest luck in the world, actually.
[Not to expound upon it, or anything. Jaskier gives a nod, his fingers rubbing together with that wrapped up energy and no place to throw it.] Of course not. [Now that he's led them to a nice little park. There's benches, and while the gardens here are not exactly as ripe as the ones he once walked through during the summers of Toussaint, they're. Nice enough. (Not nearly as sweet as the ones he's grown in the cemetery.) He takes his seat only after the dhampir does, though his right leg thumps up and down once he's seated.] Look. You needn't say anything more on it. And I will not, of course, ever share it with anyone. I know plenty believe I'm a loudmouth -- and I am -- but I do not share secrets, nor pain.
ah good, a cliff ahead
To the apology, there's a very gentle shake of the head.]
It isn't as if my delivery helped matters. [No apologies required. At least not on that matter.]
Given that you're the only the second person that knows this much, I appreciate the reassurance. [Technically, there's three, but the entire freak out at Sypha doesn't count. Alucard did not sit and articulate. He started a meltdown in front of her and ran out of a rest oasis as a wolf. Because he's an adult.
Sitting though, it centers the dhampir. Where Jaskier is all motion and pent up energy, he's too still. As if acting in that way will help quiet all the things starting to stir in his head. What bubbles up though is the shame of it, expressed in a shoulder slump and closed eyes.] Everyone else has the easier to digest bits. Somber things that don't quite kill an evening in the way this does.
[It is a horrid attempt at levity.]
time to thelma and louise, go
Not even that he was betrayed, but -- during an intimate act.
It's not hard to guess what.
Where he would have reached for any other friend, an embrace, or a touching of hands, or even a rub over his back, he does not here. His hands curl up in his lap, and Jaskier attempts stillness, but even at his most calm he's pretty much incapable of it. Eventually he offers one, held out in front of the dhamphir, even if it's awkward for either of them (or both of them.) Fuck, it's all he's got.]
You've hardly killed it. You didn't even turn into a wolf and run off! [Oh, no. They're dealing with this the same way: shitty jokes.] I mean to say... fuck, I'm not even sure what I mean to say, really. I'm here, as much a cold comfort as that may be. I think Geralt once described my ability to lift spirits akin to receiving a pie that has no filling.
[Okay, it was technically his singing, but his singing is about lifting spirits.]
NO THAT IS NOT A GOOD ENDING
There's a wealth of details he's leaving out, of course. That this had been his first time in any meaningful way, that so much of the desire was born of loneliness and the fear he'd never be loved after committing patricide, the longing for Trevor and Sypha to do so much as send a note that he was in their thoughts. That's what he isn't ready to discuss.
The hand gets an awkward pat, after a moment. More of an acknowledgement that Jaskier's making an attempt, although Alucard's not inclined to respond to that particular offer. His hand is lukewarm.]
Oh, the temptation to run off and howl at the moon for a while is growing. [They absolutely are. And that realization gets a soft snort of amusement, even if it doesn't linger.] And in fairness to you and just about anyone else, there isn't any good or appropriate response for something like this. If someone has written that how-to book though, I'd be fascinated to learn what company they keep.
[A pie with no filling? That's rude, Geralt.] That seems an overly harsh assessment. I think you just keep dramatic company that gets themselves into wilder situations.
it's FINE we're fixing it
He leans back into the bench with a sigh, crossing his legs... which, unfortunately, does not cease the jumping, but turns more into a shaking foot at the end.]
I suppose I wouldn't hold it against you if you did, in fact, go to howl at the moon. I've had similar urges myself. [But is was more like screaming. Which howling could be, in wolf-form. He's never asked.
He'd love that book. But as inclined as Jaskier is to talk about himself, he doesn't mean to look for reassurance on what to say, either. It's clear there is nothing that will soothe those ills, those pains.]
Pff. It's only Geralt being Geralt. Endlessly complimentary. You're hardly wrong, anyway. I prefer my company as dramatic as possible.
[Included company as well. And. Well. Jaskier himself.] What do you say to a drink? On me. Not -- not physically on me, but. A glass of wine or two.
i mean ARE WE
Oh, I did it my first night here, after our mmm, run in. [You were harshing his angst out there with your dick, buddy.] It helped, although that assistance was only temporary.
[Howling is absolutely screaming in the right circumstances, like Alucard's. He highly recommends it.]
Then how fortunate for you you're all but swimming in drama. It just seems he stands like a rock in a storm among it though. [Rather than drowning, which is Alucard's general approach. Very healthy.]
I think only one glass. Anything else is ill advised, I've learned. It encourages a little too much indulgence in a mood.
probably???? what's a problem alcohol doesn't fix
[It might be more than that. He's only counting two. And don't you dare say it's any more than two, Alucard. He's never embarrassed himself in similar fashion in front of anyone, ever. At any time in his life.]
It's probably terribly unhealthy for him. [If there is a pointed look following that, it doesn't particularly mean anything. What is more important is the idea of drink. But. One? One? How does Alucard expect him to live off that?] I'm afraid I only know about indulgences, not restraint. I think the solution is we go somewhere that more than one class will not lead to terrible outcomes. [He gives him a question in raise of his brows. Alucard has not been there in some time. Not since... really, the first time they met. When Jaskier had drank with him, and talked, and offered Alucard a bit of blood, if he wanted it.
To think of it now, not much has changed, has it? Except he knows Alucard all the more. Now, he thinks he understands him. The biggest change is he is no longer simply a man in a caravan. He has more to show him.] Are you adverse to the Horizon? I have something to show you there. And quite good wine.
alcoholism?
[He means it, Jaskier. Totally not trying. Your dick just keeps flopping around by accident here, and Alucard's very much not interested in looking.]
Mm, he seems to be doing fine, excluding present physical circumstances. [Which he still hasn't asked for the details of. Pointedly so.
The dhampir is all set to ask what the best compromise might be, if indulgence and temperance at to butt heads, but the bard's solution is better than he could have ever thought of. There's a faint nod, affirming that he likes this plan very much.]
Not at all. And so long as what you're showing me isn't another cactus, I'll be happy to meet you there in moments.
you got me there
Though maybe not as much after this... newly unlocked backstory.)]
Gods, stop. No more cacti! Ever! I've sworn off cacti. There's only going to be flowers and the occasional vegetable. Which cacti are not. [And he does, in fact, fill the void as they find a peaceful place to slip into the Horizon with, er, continued assurance he's done with cacti. The big ones. He still likes the round ones.
As he pulls Alucard along with him, they step into his domain: a perfect sunny day, gentle breeze, the grape leaves crafting a perfect, soft shuffle with their movements. The grapes are supple and firm, a bright shade of purple. The trellises have been cleaned of weeds and dead leaves, though there's still the natural occurrence of a few caterpillars munching on them. He makes sure Moglad is elsewhere, figuring Alucard would not appreciate his company, though his bonded, decorated horses graze nearby, one reaching up to pull an apple from a tree. Hector's bird remains perched upon the tool shed that holds all the bits and bobs for manual care of the grapes, as well as a wine cellar underneath.
It's quiet and open. And luckily, a pair of comfortable chairs and a table are waiting for them, nearly like the first time.] Well? What do you think?
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This is not the caravan. Alucard knows why he was so drawn to that caravan now (he thought it was Speakers. Sypha. He wanted someone he knew, without any memories of anger to complicate the matter.) But what has sprouted in it's place is stunning.
The brightness and greenery are welcome indeed, but what catches him most is the smell of it all. A proper, working vineyard. Overturned earth, grasses, the faintest hint of horse (not Roach), all of it is.
While not all the tension in Alucard is gone, some of it is lifted. Sitting isn't anything he's interested in right now. His eyes are trying to pick a direction to gaze in, drinking the whole of the scenery in.]
Rarely I've wanted someone's domain to manifest into reality. [There's a little bit of awe in such a simple, breathless declaration.]
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Most of all, because the vineyard sprouted from the single plant Alucard gave him.
His heart holds a breath, waiting for him to speak. And then... a soft exhale.]
Thanks to you and your gift from so many months ago. [He steps past Alucard, indicating the farthest plant in the front, clinging to the edge of the trellis. A few leaves are tipped in gold to mark it, though it flakes off easily if touched.] Here the old chap is. The original. [The leaves shift with the wind, as if to wave hello.] When I was growing up, my family owned a vineyard we would visit in the summer. It's something I think I would have settled down to do myself if I wasn't a bard. And if I knew how to settle.
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Alucard's actually ready to just fuck off and walk among the grapes at this point, wine in hand or not. It is tempting, but the source? He helped cause this? That gives him very literal pause. There's no looking over to the grapes that started it all, there's only the expression of going through too many emotions at once on Alucard's face.
In the end, there's a very small, fragile smile there.] I hadn't thought it might lead to this. [His voice is faint, but there's a soft noise of disbelief.] All of this from me mistaking your caravan for Sypha's people.
[Never mind that he's still unsure where he stands with Sypha these days. There's a little bit more volume to his voice next, feelings apparently starting to stabilize.]
You could just hire someone to do the hard work for you, then get to write your own sales song.
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Ah, that woman at the theatre! [The one who knew about the cactus. He's not bringing it up only because Alucard is so clearly enjoying himself, and those moments appear to be so terribly rare. Besides, it's. Funny. Looking back. Sometimes.] I had no idea that's who you'd imagined.
[He'd have to track her down and ask her about it. Out of mere curiousity, of course. Of someone who was from Alucard's world and... well, spoken about a bit more admirably than Hector.]
True. I could. I'm what you call a bit of a control freak, I suppose. I like doing the work myself. [And here, he can do it as long as he wants. He doesn't get tired or sunburnt. The grapes don't rot. There's no plague of locusts that may come in and destroy the plants.] Here, go on! Go wherever you'd like. Sample a few. I have plenty of bottles ready when you wish to drink.
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--of course Jaskier met Sypha. Of course.]
Her people are nomadic, caravans are their primary means of getting around. I...I'll leave you to inquire further details with that.
[Look Jaskier, if he was honest about Hector, you two would break up. Alucard would rather not be the cause of that, thank you. Hector seems on balance a little bit better due to you.]
--You'd want to be in the vineyard all day, getting dirty, and just wrestling grapes? [Alucard glances over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. What can he say, this sounds fake Jaskier.] I...admit, I can't see that.
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He doesn't mind going after her for the story. After all, she's. You know. Adorable.
Jaskier sees where this is going. He puts his hands on his hips, his eyes narrowing a little.] Yes. Why not? Do you think constantly traveling an entire continent, performing, avoiding certain death at every turn, and swallowing down weather-dictated hand pain is easy? I don't know where you lot get off thinking being a bard is a walk in the park! Also, I have slept on the ground more times than you have, I would bet. I have no issue with getting dirty.
[It's the bath afterwards that's the important part, not sitting around and soaking in sweat and grease and blood and dirt, like certain people do. One arm drops down, and he scoffs, but it's. Soft. He's not trying to take offense. He knows how he comes off, with his oiled hair and colognes. His rich doublets, the rings on his fingers.
His fingers, he would insist, that are covered with callouses.]
If I was not talented with music, if the muses did not speak to me... I would have to find some other profession in this world. Er. My world. Any world. And making something that people use to find joy, or solace, or comfort in -- that they use for the most lovely celebrations, or their deepest mournings -- yes, I would find pride and happiness in that work, thank you.
[Translation: I like wine. Also, constant supply of his own wine. Definitely not a downside.]
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Apologies, I genuinely did not mean to degrade your work or the associated works thereof. [He's still thinking of the Speakers with that. Alucard has no idea how much Sypha has or hasn't shared, admittedly.]
I only meant to draw the point that farmwork is a very, very different skillset - nothing more or less.
[FUCK.]
--Can we drink and wander then?
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He waves a hand. What he doesn't mean to do is embarrass his friend. He's had an emotionally-draining day as it is.]
Don't worry, my friend. A common misconception, I'm sure.
[It is a different skillset. And if he were not a bard, he would've trained at it.
He gives him a smile, and instead of offering his hand as he normally would, he gives a flourish with it as if to clear the very air itself.] Yes, of course! I even have the horses, if you'd like to ride. They're very mild-mannered, but cannot stand to be alone, so I'm afraid both must be taken. [Which is not a reflection on their creator, at all, in any way.] We may run into Moglad, my apprentice, who I assure you is perfectly kind, if not a bit... noisy.
[DEFINITELY not a reflection on his master. Jaskier tips his head and leads the way towards the standing shed, which he shuffles inside. With a few clangs and several bootstomps, he returns bearing two glasses of wine, deep red in color.] Now, don't laugh. I named this vintage Heartsblood. The original name was Vampire's Kiss, but, you know, I thought it a bit too on the nose.
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--Thank you. [For the grace and forgiveness. It is very much what sets all of this to rights, as is that wave of the air. It dismisses absolutely everything, and for it, Alucard breathes a little easier.]
Am I correct in assuming they won't startle either? [He tilts his head, just a little concerned.] Some animals will startle around me. Unless they're vampire horses, which rather negates the issue all together.
[He already knows he'll have to explain vampire horses, but never mind.] Noisy is fine. I'll probably hear him first.
[But to the shed. And moreover, to the wine. What Jaskier presents is a beautiful ruby color, and Alucard can't help himself. He sniffs it first, unsure what to anticipate. Red wines are always more complex, but all of the thoughts and tasting notes go away immediately at the name.
The stare is flat. Unimpressed.] I dare say you're smarter for that. Heartsblood is more evocative and doesn't set the imagination along any one particular track.
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[He's going to die if he doesn't see a vampire horse, basically.
Jaskier laughs at his expression. He can look unimpressed all he likes; Jaskier has already taken a mental snapshot of how he looked when he first saw the vines. That's enough for him to survive off forever.] I accepted that not everyone is so eager to offer a pint or two to every pretty vampire they come across, all right? So. With your approval, Heartsblood it is.
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But Alucard gets the point. He offers out his left hand, and in a little whisp of smoke is what the horses in his father's stable once looked like. They're wicked looking, teeth out at all the wrong angles, ears that become horns, red eyes and dark coats. Not the gentlest horse out there. There isn't even a Fat Pony version.
So, horse in one hand, wine in the other, Alucard does take a sip.]
And how many vampires have you actually run across, in your time? I don't count, I'm only half.
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