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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...)
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[He decides not to mention he thinks fish would be a bit cute, perhaps, in case, in the name of spite, Alucard avoids the idea. He is not here to stifle anyone else's artistic creativity. (Debatable, considering how he began this conversation. Still. The pierogi-traditionalist in him was aghast.)]
You know I only jest. The fillings were very good, as far as I could surmise. [He's very sincere about his answer. Ever since that rabbit, Jaskier is a devout supporter of Alucard's cooking escapades.] Rather traditional flavors from where I'm from, funny enough. The jam was new, though close to a dessert our cooks would make. The inside would be this, ah.... the most delectable sweet, soft cheese, with a hint of vanilla, and they would pour a sauce of fruit on top. And, if we could find it, a garnish of mint leaves.
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[Alucard's tone is dry as the desert, which means he's actually enjoying this. And oh yes, there will be pierogi fish now. (Look Jaskier, would you rather a molecular gastronomy approach to pierogi?)
When it comes to critique, Alucard seems to be taking this all very seriously. For all that he's been mired in what Ciri's deemed opaque affairs, food? Food is different.]
Vanilla? That's an extremely expensive ingredient. [Even for Alucard. He's not exactly disclosed his social status, but some things are obvious.] But the rest is simple enough. The caraway wouldn't be easy to find here though, I've seen the spice market. [He sighs, a little put out by that.] Herbs are cheap, at least. Am I right in assuming that there are meat versions?
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[Honestly, food is a wonderful topic. Jaskier is very largely a fan of it, and has greater experience in the variety of cuisines the Continent has to offer than most, simply from his travels, his stays and inns and taverns and royal banquets.
He'd much rather share recipes than. Think of many other things.
Vanilla. That's it!]
Oh, fuck, what was I thinking? I could've been selling vanilla this whole time. [And here he'd been growing shit like rosemary and verbena. Easy sells for potion makers, but vanilla -- a rare ingredient this sphere might not even have.] You know, you only need ask. All this practice the last month, a potato is hardly the most impressive thing I can grow.
[And caraway. He's certainly heard of its seeds, but it's been quite a while, if ever, that he's seen the plant. And that brings to mind: can the magic grow something he's never seen? Or hardly remembers?] I can certainly try for both.
[Perhaps if he sees them in the Horizon...]
Well, of course. Most of them are. Beef and onion was a personal favorite. Or pork, if you prefer. Sprinkled with a bit of cheese.
[Now he's nearly homesick for them. As much as he enjoys the variety of new sweetrolls here, it... what he wouldn't do for a nice plate of pierogi with a bottle of ruby-red Est Est. Truly indulgent.]
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Something to ponder later, because food. Because wait, saffron. And because the hall is starting to fill up again, and Alucard feels his shoulders rising with the crowd.]
Vanilla pods still need to be aged and matured once they're picked, allowing for the correct chemical reactions to take place. I'd dare say the quicker route would be saffron and-- [okay, this isn't going to work.] Is this a discussion we might have outside?
[The answer is going to have to be yes, as Alucard starts to move before Jaskier can answer.]
Do you know what cuts were used? I assume the meat was cooked before being placed into the dough, you'd have undercooked ingredients otherwise.
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[That sounds sort of interesting, actually. He -- ] Wait, what?
[Ah. Fuck. Of course. Jaskier is not the sort to really notice a crowd; he's far more likely to notice the absence of one. Still, he keeps up with Alucard's very long legs well enough, more than happy to place the discussion wherever his wolfish friend fins most comfortable.
Actually, he should be surprised to see him out in public at all. Human-shaped. Good to know that a celebration of the arts and sciences was enough to coax him out of that... cactus.]
Cuts? Ah, no. It was ground to a pulp. A bit of... off the side, maybe? [He's not a butcher, either.] Certainly cooked before it's folded in. Ah... [He taps his chin, throwing himself back into those memories of peering into pans, sneaking around the cooks' shoulders. Stealing bottles of wine to the smell of frying meat and fresh bread.] Typically beef, onion, and flakes of potato, all fried in duck fat, when we were feeling extra frisky. Er. Not in that way. Butter, if the ducks were rare. [His head falls back with a groan.] Gooods. My mouth is watering at the thought. The treats here are well enough, but, you know. Never as good as mother used to make.
[To be fair, his mother never cooked.]
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[Jaskier becoming a one man spice market is not a conversation Alucard expected to have, but it seems they're having it.
He's careful not to walk too fast, Jaskier not being his height and all. What Alucard is careful to do is weave in and out of the crowds carefully, never bumping into anyone and his shoulders gently relaxing by the time they're outside and beyond the main entrance to the exhibition hall.
No point in hiding the relief on his face, at any rate.]
I think I can figure out the cut then. Something quick without much tissue, just enough fat to keep everything moist. [Easy! Although at the mention of mothers, Alucard offers the bard a sidelong glance.] This actually strikes me as grandmother work, if I'm being entirely candid.
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[He does regard Alucard for a moment, though, almost cautiously. Not that he expects him to start requesting deadly poisons or anything, but the thought has occurred to Jaskier. Plenty of things that can kill a man. On the other hand: Godflesh mushrooms would be a bit of fun, too. Perhaps he could even persuade Alucard along for that very fabulous mental ride.
He'll have to start from scratch, though. The growing. For whatever reason, the potted plants in the windowsill have all decided to die. He's checked on the cemetery and all appears to still be mostly in order... except one of the blackberry bushes caught some rot, which he'd cut away.
Just a bit of unluckiness, that was all.]
Having tasted your fine cuisine, I have the utmost confidence in your abilities. [He very much hopes his smile is reassuring. And look, Jaskier has learned! He makes no comment on Alucard's relief, palpable as it is. Let him go forth where he's comfortable.] To be fair, my grandmother was struck by a wagon and died. And my mother didn't cook, so... well, you've got me there. In my experiences, it feels a bit vulgar to label it servants' work.
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Well, you need the pods to age and dry properly first.
[
Jaskier the last time Alucard tripped was in the ice wurm cave and Geralt can confirm to you that's not a great time.The dhampir catches that look, and while there is a head tilt that suggests he might just ask what the bard is considering, the question never comes. Something in his gut says it is better to be ignorant for a time.]
Abilities, yes. Shaping, apparently, leaves something to be desired according to your opinions. [That's how this all started, after all. But in the statement there is a faint undercurrent of warmth. If this is what the bard will give him shit for for months to come, Alucard's happy with it. Let it be silly pierogi nonsense.]
It is absolutely vulgar to label it that, we're in agreement there. [Because it is, and it is indeed pleasant to be in step on that topic.] I just remember the old women in the village where my mother had her clinic always did that type of culinary work. Never mind the baker when you can use some lard or oil and a pan in the fire coals.
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They had legs. [He insists that he wishes to eat nothing with dough legs.
And now he's keeping up the insistence mostly because it's funny. Alucard rises to meet it, even!]
Oh, a clinic? Your mother was a healer? [The question comes thoughtless, borne only for curiousity for a woman he's only heard vague mention of (mostly from Hector).] In a... in a village? I must admit, that's a bit of a smaller world than I would've expected you spring from. [You know, considering the great lord father and everything. Oh. Oh, wait. This was a romantic story, wasn't it? A small, village doctor. A great lord of a vampire.
Fuck. That's good. And, he cannot help but think, especially tragic when it's real.] Though you're certainly worldly compared for your typical blue blood.
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Keep it up and they'll always have legs.
[Genuine threat, if Alucard's tone is anything to go by. The good news is that as the topic changes, that all melts away. There's far more fondness in his tone, but there's the impossible to miss note of genuine sadness about the topic.]
Doctor. [It is a gentle correction, but insistent.] Her work was without any magic to it - it was all natural science, much like this place. [Hector and Sypha are the only two who might understand exactly how close his father's work was to some of the inventions here. He's never really discussed it with either.] She insisted that the both of us see the world as humans do, so time was often split between locations. [Not that it had done much good. Alucard sighs, feeling the worst of everything threatening to cloud the discussion. Better to at least indulge in the sillier details to avoid it.]
Mind, this was the same woman who walked up to my father's doorsteps past a forest of impaled skeletons, stabbed her knife into the front door and demanded she be taught the skills that she needed to do that work, so take that as you will.
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Ah, well. My apologies. It’s a bit of a catch-all term for us. [He catches Alucard’s tone, and with the details he’s heard from Hector, he dare not jest about this now. Instead he listens, and does laugh in surprise at that.]
I take it as a woman who sounds utterly magnificent. [There is certainly something there to respect: a woman who knows what she wants, and who to take it from.] And your father couldn’t resist?
[His tone is soft, genuinely asking. It’s a sensitive topic, of course, and though he does not speak aloud the chance for a conversational escape, he looks for evidence Alucard wants the topic to end. Speaking of one’s deceased parents can… well, it can easily be a balm or a curse. Sometimes both.]
Though I suppose I should be asking about the skeleton thing, I feel it sort of speaks for itself.
[If that what his father was like, he can understand what so attracted Hector.]
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No apologies needed, in that case. The nomenclature is weightier in Wallachia. [But also a part of the problem in the first place. Alucard doesn't let that detail out though. If Hector's said anything, then Jaskier can probably fill in a blank or two.
No matter. Alucard keeps walking, some part of him registering that neither one of them has picked a destination in mind. There's thinner crowds out here, the further they get from the exhibition hall, and if Alucard remembers right, there's a park somewhere in this vicinity. Maybe that's where his legs are wandering to.]
They were both forces of nature in their own way, yes. [Dramatic, all three of them, although his mother might protest the label. Her dramatics were nothing compared to what was referred to as Tepes man nonsense and applied to both Dracula and Alucard.] The skeleton thing is...well. My father's reputation for cruelty, massive overstatements, and terror was earned. That simply is what it is. [Wait.] Was.
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Hep refers not to think about the djinn incident, and here it is. On the edge of his mind, anyway.
Forces of nature. He huffs, nearly a laugh. Forces of nature, and yet Alucard was so much like... like the eye of a storm, where all remains calm. Except the eye moves with you. Hovering above.]
That explains some things. [Not for Alucard. Again, he's thinking of Hector. It's, you know, hard to parse, sometimes. Working for someone like that. Willingly. Happily, even. Then again, none of them have particularly well-working relationships with their fathers, do they?] I mean it in the most complimentary way possible: I'm rather glad you don't share similar taste in lawn ornaments.
and welp there it is
[And in that noise, Alucard sounds much like a balloon deflating, slow, certain, and knowing this is going to go to many bad places. The only other person he's told this to is Gideon, and being of the same age and from an entire damn planet of necromancy offered a little more of a tempered reaction than whatever is about to spill forth from the bard.
Alucard's feet keep moving, but he can't bare to look and see of Jaskier is even still with him.]
remember when this thread was about pierogi
Jaskier tries to save the moment in the only way he knows how: by talking more.]
I meant -- hah! Only a jest, you know. I meant in front of your cactus. That it -- I suppose it would be a bit fitting, considering the place, but terribly morbid --
[Therein rings a second weight that hits him, inevitably: he is making this worse. It's a thing he does, unfortunately, when panic begins to grip him.
Oh, fuck. He was truly on point with that eye-of-the-storm metaphor. Yes, that's definitely going down in the books later. And like a storm, there is the thunder and the squeezing of the air around them, a pressure that comes before lightning itself.
He cannot help that he winces. That he knows, exactly, what that sound has meant. He was too on the nose for other things. And though it would not surprise him that Alucard is a quiet, simmering danger -- he is a dhamphir, after all -- it's... it's not even the murder, it's the pikes --]
Please... please tell me they were bandits, o-or something. Or. you know. Bones. Random bones. Random bones totally makes complete sense.
[No, it doesn't, but he's also met witches, and they're scary and probably like bones, so maybe Alucard is also scary and enjoys a few reminders of the Inevitability of The End, or something in that vein. Suitably morbid. For him.]
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
probably???? what's a problem alcohol doesn't fix
alcoholism?
you got me there
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