abraxaslogs | The Festival of Enlightenment

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The Festival of Enlightenment - The Free Cities

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.

Circus of the Sciences

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...

Mind over Magic

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!

A Closing Ceremony

(Coming soon! The events of December 21st and beyond will depend on player actions...)

OOC: Event #5: The Dimming

LOG: Thorne | The Free Cities | Solvunn

PvP: The Mission to the Singularity

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, well, [Sypha shrugs - her most intrinsic magic is instinctual, outside of the gestures she was taught to harness it. Sometimes conjuring up flames and waves feels like nothing so much as slathering paint across a canvass with a palette knife. Pure, gut-deep, expression.] Instinct I can do.

[She gnaws at her lip for a moment.] We could find somewhere else? Or set up a tent, or...

[Truthfully, she feels safe in her little room, with its locking door, and the scrap-piece-quilt spread over the bed. That coverlet had been her first real purchase here, dug out of a bin at some secondhand store, because the salvage feel of it reminded her of home. It's a silly thing to draw comfort from, she knows, but she's been alone here in a way she's never really had to square with before.]

I very much do not have the materials for a tent, and in this equation, you are more vulnerable.

[Your call. The dhampir is still an awful bundle of nerves, but he would not force someone else into the same unguarded position he was once in. That is unfair and wrong, no matter his remaining anger.]

[It really says something about the life she's been living, that the word 'vulnerable' makes her shudder. She really has picked up Trevor's well-earned paranoia, hasn't she?]

If it's not too much trouble, then, I'd prefer my room. There's food there as well, in case this is the kind of magic that leaves you hungry after.

[Paranoia is a friend and a safety tool!

There's no arguing then. Alucard takes a scant five minutes to clean up what little work he was doing in the graveyard, and he walks with Sypha back to her little rented room. The more people they find themselves around, the more the dhampir straightens up. The more his eyes move everywhere.

He's practically falling of the edge by the time they reach Sypha's room. A place cozy enough, and what Alucard can imagine is still a novelty for someone who did not grow up as a part of the rooted folks.

The dhampir is tall. There's little room to sit, and so he settles down on the floor. How this place is quiet he doesn't ask. He only waits until Sypha is also seated to even try.

When he speaks, his voice is far calmer than the dhampir feels.]

I'm not sure how to begin, so I'll tell you about the thing at the center of this place. Two tall stones stand beside each other, a semicircle cut out of each half. Together, those semi circles are whole. And they stand in the middle of a crater. Around that is a void. White. Blinding. And where you should go.

['Quiet' isn't a word that applies to The Cat, but Sypha finds comfort in the background hum of people all packed into relatively close living quarters. She's always had a hard time sleeping without someone else's snores on the other side of the wall. The music and laughter filtering up through the wooden slats unkink tension knots in her shoulders as she folds herself to the floor across from Alucard. Her room, as she'd said earlier, is only twice as wide as the bed itself, and much of that floorspace is taken up by a small desk and a little chest of drawers. The pull-handles bump against the knobs of her spine.]

This void, is it...hm, how to put this...does it take from you? Is that where everything it strips away goes, do you think?

--Sypha, focus on the void, don't question the metaphysics of it.

[Alucard sighs. This may not work. If it doesn't, he does not want to haul ass to the actual, physical location of the Singularity, as that is far too much work.

Is it the background noise? Maybe. But that shouldn't be an issue, not for Sypha. This should be a natural thing for her with how skilled she is with magic.]

Just a large white space. Infinite possibilities.

If the void doesn't want to be questioned, maybe it should make some sort of sense at the start. [She mutters while closing her eyes. Speakers do a fair amount of meditating, settling into their magic, so the posture comes easily. Back straight, hands palm-down and cupped loosely over her knees, she settles into her tailbone and breeeeaathes out.

The sounds blend together into a low background hum as the familiar relaxed focus settles over her mind. Infinite possibilities, devoid of ~~all the Infinite Corridor's~~ colors.

... ... ...]

Look, you'll understand after this just please roll with this?

[But there. Sypha's at least meditating, and Alucard watches. He can't know if Sypha's achieved Void until he slips into the Horizon himself, but it seems wise to linger for a few more minutes. There's so much noise here. Someone could walk in and see this, or else--

--well or else none of this works, and they have to figure out another path.

It is instinct to turn back into a wolf right now, sitting inside and feeling as if the walls are too close. Nonsense, of course. His cactus is far more cramped than this place, and yet--

--Aluard shakes his head, focusing on Sypha again.]

[Her ribcage expands and deflates with every steady breath, rhythmic as the beat of the music below. This headspace is familiar, but no different from the usual meditation she'd engage in to center herself before a taxing day.

After several long and fruitless minutes, Sypha flips her hands on her knees. Golden tongues of flame spring from her cupped palms, brightening and waning in time with her breathing. Perhaps an outward extension of her magic will help?]

[Sypha's breath is steady. That is a good sign, but it doesn't feel correct. The texture is off, although how Alucard knows that, he can't say.

Her flames don't help his peace of mind. They're inside, her eyes are closed, and there's fire. Rationally, this isn't a problem. Sypha can control her flames, and yet.

He gives it a few more minutes. Alucard's hands want to wander. Fiddle. Do something. So instead he sits on them to force stillness.]

[This is nice and all; it would be relaxing if not for the preconception that something ought to be happening.

Um. [She doesn't crack an eye, but the tension in the room shifts as she brings her awareness back to her body] Does it normally take a while? Just asking.

No, but the way I approached this the first time was different.

[Maybe he isn't the right person to show her the way. Something that should have been apparent at the start, and Alucard's sigh is deep and bone weary. Maybe asking Jaskier would be better. Or at least he'd make it less awkward.

Shit.

Alucard shifts, hands sliding out from underneath.]

I might have gotten your hopes up about this Sypha, for which I genuinely do apologize.

Nono, don't apologize. Neither of us really knows how any of this works, after all. [Gently clenched fists snuff out the flames, though Sypha remains seated. She reaches out on reflex, gently touching Alucard's knee in reassurance.] Thank you for explaining, though? And for trying.

[Alucard was ready to stand right up and get moving but the brush of Sypha's hand against his knee sends him spiraling out in about fifty directions at once.

He wanted that, at one time, didn't he? To have her hands just gently running over his, or over his shoulders to say hello as she walked by him in the library or the kitchen, to be friendly and there and simply herself in all ways that mattered? He had hoped for anyone that might have such a possibility, and the last time he had that hope, he had been bound and then did the worst thing he could think to do. There's that memory again, surfacing, the sword hovering and--

--Problem at hand. Only the problem at hand. If only to force himself not to melt down in front of Sypha again, relapsing again. Alucard knows he isn't even out of that pit, but he's losing his grip.

He wants to scream. He wants to gnaw his own arm off.

All he says is:]

Perhaps we need to be literal with guidance here.

[An unpleasant jolt, unseen but felt, zings from Alucard's body and up through her fingertips. It's as subtle as a horse shivering a fly away, but it's palpable nonetheless.

Sypha takes her hand back at the same measured pace she'd use with a flinchy horse, unsure whether or not to acknowledge the sharp strangeness of it all, but certain the touch was not wanted.]

You mean, go there in person?

No. That's too much of a sojourn.

[He hates himself. He can feel bile rising up his throat as he keeps speaking.]

Place your fingertips on my knees, like before. I'll head towards the Horizon as well, and that may pull you along.

[She wasn't going to bring this up. In her experience with men-outside-her-own-culture, you're never supposed to call direct attention to the things that make them flinch. She's never been sure why, only that it seems to do twice as much damage.

So she actually hesitates for a second before looking him dead in the eye.]

Are you really okay with that, Adrian?

It's fine.

[It is not fine. Alucard looks as if he is going to crawl out of his own skin, leave an Alucard shaped thing in place, and scuttle off as half a dozen bats. But it doesn't matter.

He takes a breath, holds onto it too long, and lets it out again.]

Let's just see if this works.

[It's really not fine at all. He's gone pale. She didn't know that was physically possible.

But far be it from Sypha Belnades to dictate someone else's limits.]

All right. Quickly, then.

[Maybe this will be marginally easier for him if she keeps her hands to herself (and resolutely turns her brain away from tracing this effect back to its cause). Awkwardly, she shuffles forward until her knees bump against his, two acute angles coming together to form a lopsided diamond.]

Just. See if you can follow after me.

[Knee against knee is fine. That's...genuinely fine, there's no charged emotion in the knees. So Aluard breathes in.

Breathes out.

And while he'd normally awaken in his own domain, all of a cold, November day, he doesn't rush it this time. He imagines a long, winding spool of thread. Tries to see Sypha at the other end, and the both of them journeying on towards a big, empty space.]

[This time, everything flows from the exhale. When Sypha closes her eyes and lets herself focus on the points of contact between herself and Alucard, a pathway unrolls before her mind's eye.

It's a delicate thing, a filament of gold precisely the shade of the dhampir's eyes. She takes hold and studies it against the hook of her fingers, feeling the thrum of its magic. One end reaches to Alucard himself, but the other, when she looks up, winds away from them both into a horizonless white space.

It ought to make her think of standing inside dense fog, or a snowstorm, but there's none of their muffled quality to the air. There's not much of anything pressing against her senses, other than the line of magic wound around her fingers. Everything else is yawning emptiness.]

Charming. You'd think a Singular magical awareness would take a little more creative initiative.

[It is easier, focusing on the Horizon than the hands that rest against him. It is not easier to think of nothingness though, not when a hundred horrid feelings start to twist and churn and--

--there.

A sigh of relief leaves the dhampir, but he may as well just be letting every bit of air decompress from his body with the way he says now, dangling in white space.]

The creative initiative is on the individual to mold a Domain to their liking.

[A thing that is easier to show than explain. Alucard reaches a hand out to his left, and a full glass of red wine appears. He imagines he might be forgiven for then draining the contents in one fell swoop.]

[Sypha opens her mouth to say - oh, she doesn't know, something pithy about vampires and wine, probably - but something pins her attention. There's a speck, just over her companion's shoulder. A vertical bar of darkness that starts out tiny and rushes towards them at dizzying speed. Before she knows it, she's looking straight up its sheer height, head craned back and mouth open.]

...what in...

[When she looks back to the man and his empty wineglass, there's no recognition in her eyes. Her Cadensian clothing is gone, replaced by a severely cut widesleeved robe, sky blue, with a heavy hood hanging down her back. Draped over it is a night-dark scapular, the front panel embroidered with a silvery symbol from hip to ankle. Tied just above it, at her waist, is a white woven belt hung with drawstring pouches that jingle and clink as she shakes off a sudden headrush. She touches a hand to her temple and frowns, eyes sliding away from the man's face momentarily before snapping back.]

I'm...sorry, were you saying something? Was I?

[Alucard's never done this before. The idea that one can pinpoint the exact moment the Singularity's effect is nothing short of terrifying, because one moment, it is Sypha in name and spirit. Rudeness (she'd yell if he uttered the word) and pith. And now she's--

--Sypha but not Sypha. All the personality and shaped experience, but no memory.

It was easier when no one knew what was going on, in point of fact.

Alucard's quiet for a moment, taking in her clothing. Speakers' garb, yes, but there's an elevated level to it he wouldn't expect from Sypha.]

I was, but no matter. Let's settle at my place before you're let loose to create.

[Settle back at his place? That's exactly the sort of phrase that ought to set off warning bells, and yet...it doesn't? That, in itself, is strange enough to give her pause.

Because she doesn't know him. Nothing about those sharp features or low, measured words strikes her as familiar. Yet he's standing closer than she'd normally allow a stranger, and she feels no inherent wariness at finding herself alone in a void, at the base of an enormous monolith, with an unknown man.

Whose name she's positive she doesn't know.]

Yes yes, of course, only would you humor me with one little question? [Which is itself a trick question, because she doesn't pause enough to let him reply] Do we know one another?

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