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

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?

[Alucard nods once. The question is fair, and of course there is no pause to it. It simply is, because Sypha has always been an overflowing font of questions.

Her grandfather has the patience of the saints, really.]

We do, yes. Some time ago, we worked together on a sensitive matter.

[There will be more questions because of course there will. But Alucard decides to keep walking in order to settle things faster.]

If you'd prefer, we can stay here and let you craft what you will in this space.

[She wishes she could say the claim struck true, but there's simply nothing there to resonate with. The only proof she really has is this bizarre physical acceptance, as if something rooted in her spine says 'safe'.

She hurries to keep up. His stride is much longer than hers, and he does not seem inclined to wait. She falls into a step-and-a-half pattern as if that's second nature, too.]

What kind of sensitive matter? What exactly am I meant to craft and, ah, how?

[both of those statements imply she has some level of skill at...something. She looks down at her hands as they walk, turning them over to search for callouses or marks of a trade. What is it that she does?

Wait. She's skipped something fundamental, here. She grabs hold of the man's elbow, unease seeping into her questions for the first time:] I have a name, don't I? I must have?

[Sypha's muscle memory isn't touched. That's an interesting matter that Alucard hadn't paid much attention to in the past. The observation goes without comment though, and he keeps his pace.]

I'd rather not discuss it, it was personal and related to my family. [That won't deter questions, but how. That he can take and run with, because he knows Sypha. She'll begin to craft here and that will be the beginning and the end of it.]<,/small>

Whatever you can imagine can be made manifest through sheer will - the building block of magic. [Her words, after all.

To the grab at his elbow, the dhampir goes still. It takes real effort to unstiffen his shoulders and force the to relax.] You are Sypha Belnades. I am Adrian.

[It's hardly fair that he won't talk about whatever personal family matter she'd known about before! She's about to point out that exact fallacy when he speeds on.

His - Adrian's - tone is consistently soft and flat, but he gives slight emphasis to certain words. Talk of 'magic' and 'will' sounds like something he's reciting from memory, a catechism meant to draw other knowledge to the surface. When nothing inside her answers, the thread of unease begins to fray into panic.]

None of that means anything to me. I want it to! I can tell you think it should! Is this normal? Is it normal to feel like--like I've missed a step in the dark when I try to recall something and there's just nothing there? Is the creation meant to help?

[Her grip on his arm tightens. She steps toward him, like a child sidling behind an adult's leg, shoulders hunching into his side]

[Alucard freezes as the grip tightens. There's an instinct, to lash out, to slash, to struggle, to get away away away before anything else holds him down firmer and with greater designs. A tiny part of him recognizes that it is Sypha.

He extracts his arm with all vampire speed possible, but does only that much.]

Please don't grab me like that.

[It is soft and quick and there's terror under there that once Sypha has memories again, she'll want to unpack. So be it.]

It is normal your first time here. It's...the side effect of this place, and an unpleasant one. But you have to go through it, or else there's no opportunity to reach this place at all.

Creating in this place can't hurt. But it does not have to be done immediately. [In the distance is his Domain. Great black thorns keep rainclouds from spreading elsewhere.]

It's more frightful looking on the outside, I assure you.

[He moves away so quickly, she stumbles, nearly falls. But he keeps walking, and she'd rather not be lost in a void, even if the alternative is a stranger who barely seems to tolerate her. She rubs at her arms as she catches up, unable to keep the hurt from the shine of her eyes or the turn of her mouth.]

I'll take your word for it. [Subdued but present in her tone is the implication that she has little choice otherwise. There's literally nothing to compare his statements against, although features do appear to gather around them. There are smudges on what passes for a horizon, indeterminable distances away.] Why come here at all? What's the benefit to you, or me?

[In an abrupt trick of perspective, she finds herself nose-to-tip with a thorn as big as a grown adult. She takes a step back, away from both it and the man who apparently calls this place home. Who...created it?]

Is it meant to be your mirror, or your inverse? [Maybe she's a little more cautious now, wary of a cold shoulder or the great big fuck off wall of thorns menacing anyone who comes too close.]

[He doesn't apologize for the movement or for how Sypha almost falls over. It happens, and he just...Sypha actually grabing onto him is likely to unleash a flow of emotions that he isn't prepared to deal with yet. He's just managed to get his head above water.

With Alucard standing in front of them, the thorns open. There's a hole there now, the size of a doorway, and beyond them, a forest. It drizzles now, the scent of damp earth and fallen leaves drifting out on the breeze. Somewhere, deep, deep in the forest there is a fire going, made of hickory wood and oak. It is a scent that wraps around the dhampir almost immediately, mixing with the scent of sandalwood and the faintest hint of iron that normally hangs about his person.]

The personal benefit is that I am afforded some peace and quiet, away from the world and in a place that I choose. It's no mirror or inverse - simply where I wish to be at the moment.

[He crosses the threshold, but pauses, not expecting Sypha to do the same. At least, not without a little more elaboration.]

The benefit to you is to return and build. I've also heard that for many, they gain an additional ability or power from their first trip to this place.

[Yeah, regardless of what he might say, Sypha looks out at the dark forest behind the barrier of thorny vines and sees one vast metaphor for whatever his deal might be.

But she won't deny that rain dripping from the trees, rich with the smell of petrichor and duff and mineral soil, wraps her up in a sense of restful calm. She can see the appeal, especially if he's some sort of prickly hermit. Reflexively, she pulls the embroidered hood over her head and tucks her nose behind the high collar of her robe. The whole ensemble seems designed to bundle her against the elements, excepting the sandals; mud squishes over their open sides as she steps through the thorny gate.]

'Additional' ability or power? That implies most people have something like that to begin with, which must mean I did as well? Is that why I came here?

[How dare you call him out so precisely Sypha.

He can feel her cross the threshold in the same way the rest of his domain is meant to tell him when someone moves beyond the thorns. The earth rolls beneath his feat, adjusting to the weight of another,, but nothing else comes of it. Good to know things are in working order.]

You did and do, but that isn't why you're here. [He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose slowly.] The whole thing makes sense once you leave the Horizon. It is a nightmare in the moment.

[One with particular scenery. Alucard moves deeper into the forest, and mist curls around his ankles along with the smell of damp leaves and overturned soil. The rain continues, but there are colors here - bright golds and deep reds of autumn cling to the trees, providing color to an otherwise monotone landscape. One with a small hut that peers out of the fog, once the dhampir walks far enough in.

Without Alucard's presence, the path would fight Sypha and try to turn her away from Alucard's depression hut. Send her back to the walls. But here, a small shack presents itself, warm glow from the windows and woodsmoke from within.]

You're welcome to come in, if you so choose. If not, we can keep walking.

[If only she could say she's had much worse nightmares. But she can't! Because she doesn't remember any! The creeping horror of that continues to bubble at the back of her mind, tamped down only by the intensity of her focus on her surroundings.

It's dark here, yes, but the way pulling a blanket over your head after a bad dream is dark. Protective, almost. The cabin ahead is tiny - more of a repurposed shed or shack - but has that same sense of sanctuary.

If this is all Adrian's mind, all Adrian, what is he wrapping himself up against?]

I'd like to go inside, if that's all right? Unless...if I'm meant to create something, I wouldn't want to impact your-- [a wave of her hand at the forest, however far away it may spread.]

In truth, you're not really meant to do anything you don't wish to. [Alucard is simply aware of how awful the optics are. A lone woman with no memories enters a random man's depression shack. That's...that's absolutely some vampire's M.O.

He opens the door, and the kitchen is far larger than the exterior of the cabin says it should be. Copper cookware hangs from hooks in the ceiling, the stove is in perfect condition, and a little table sits in the center of the room - rectangular, with four chairs. On one of the shelves there is an ugly little doll, and beyond that, a vestibule with doors that lead to two more rooms - the bathroom (claw footed tub and all), and Alucard's room. The source of woodsmoke in the air as it turns out, since it is the only room with a wood burning stove to provide heat. A small mattress meant for one sits on a bedframe of simple oak, and there's a little pile of books on the nightstand.

The dhampir goes to the breadbox. Bread and salt, just as he was raised.]

Do you want something to drink? Wine, water, tea?

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