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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 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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[Look, he could change it to night if needed, but. Oh. No, he's getting palm horses instead. He doesn't know why it is universal that men like making small horses, but he completely respects the impulse considering Jaskier has now gifted two palm-sized horses to two different people.
He peers down at them, stroking one down its back.
Do they... also drink blood? Because that must be very annoying to deal with, sharing food with a bloody horse.]
Er. [He takes a sip.] At least two. Maybe three. I'm pretty sure Aleksy -- a lad in my second year of geometry -- was one. Or, you know, some sort of undead. One was a vampiress who tried killing Geralt several times. Lovely lass. My grandfather was a bit of a bloodsucker, does that count?
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Also because a) small horses are excellent and b)something in Alucard says that Jaskier would not appreciate suddenly seeing these things at full size. The good news is that because the horse isn't fully formed and it is a construct by Alucard, it does not try to get a nip of blood from Jaskier's fingers. Yet.]
Last one does not, although now you've wandered into what are vampires actually like where you're from, because Ciri keeps being surprised that I get annoyed at assumptions. And that I can embroider.
[Gonna just. Take a loooong sip.] This is very robust. I would have anticipated more tanins in it though, based on the name.
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[Which leaves him implying that the association of horses somehow cancels out the vampire part. So... if they can't go out in the sun, they. They definitely drink blood, don't they?
(What came first? The vampire or the horse?)]
Ciri's met a vampire? I... I suppose that shouldn't surprise me. [He grimaces a little. There's so much he doesn't know about her still. She's probably hunted a vampire before, hasn't she? Well. Maybe not. They're quite rare. The only reason Geralt went for the vampiress was she was eating her subjects, so.
Feels pretty fair.]
But you like it? [He smiles.] I craft the flavor around its intended recipient, if that tells you anything. [Yes, Alucard, you got your own personal vintage from Chateau Jaskier.]
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[Or no horses! That's the ruless, Alucard can't change nature. Even in the Horizon.]
I did not ask how she knew specifics. She may just be well versed in lore? I assume your Witchers are like other monster hunters I've met and have an extremely detailed library. [That Alucard is thankfully not in charge of and likely does not hold extremely good ways to commit dhampir-specific homicide.]
I do, yes. The terroir of it is interesting, since in theory this place has both any and none at the same time. It's a fascina-- [Oh.
Alucard's actually going to turn red this time, which on his pale skin looks more as if he's turned the color of a rosé. Well done, Jaskier. You are winning in making the dhampir feel every feeling department tonight.] Thank you for not calling it grave rose then.
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Jaskier turns to him with a smile. It's convenient that, at that moment, the sun begins to accelerate its descent. The sky shifts towards twilight, and the red of the sky only leaves the color on Alucard's cheeks looking darker.]
Please! I have more imagination than that. Which is why I didn't go for the first name; you've yet to kiss me, so I have no experience to base the taste off. [He's teasing, and he makes it show with the grin that follows. The moon begins to rise, replacing where the sun once shone. It is a testament to his curiousity that he's shifted from daylight; a feat which has never occurred in his domain to date.] Now, you must show me these beasties at their full size. I imagine they would not be terribly helpful at the size of a hand.
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No matter. As day speeds into night, Alucard downs the rest of his wine glass. It is just enough time for the sky to shift to what he knows to be safe for the horses. He's all set to start summoning them up but--
--low hanging fruit comes first.] You'd give it the wrong name anyway. Alucard is what the people of Wallachia call me. My parents named me Adrian.
[With that, horses. Alucard doesn't linger to drink in Jaskier's reaction either. He instead focuses on creation, because it has been some time since he's seen the beasts that his father held in the stables.
Two. They start as dark shapes, vaguely horse like. Red eyes are filled in first. Then their ears that twist into horns. Teeth that are too sharp for horses come next, the shape of the bodies refined as Alucard conjures them from memory. The coats are not pitch black night, they are deep twilight purples. It is the saddles that are black, accented with sharp silver because sometimes, to be contrary to lore is satisfying.
There.]
Radu is on the left, Dănești is on the right.
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[Alucard -- Adrian -- is doing this on purpose, he suspects. Dropping a nugget of knowledge and then immediately distracting him with... possibly the most terrifying horses he's ever seen in his life. Compared to Roach, for sure.
Terrifying, and beautiful, with the combination being equivalent to a candle flame to Jaskier's moth. Judging by the teeth, they definitely are not gentle grass grazers. Yet he trusts Alucard fully, so he approaches a horse -- Radu -- and offers a hand under its nose.] The effect is slightly different when they are, ah, closer to twenty hands than one hand high, I admit. [He allows the horse to snuffle around his hand, up his arm. It seems particularly interested in the magic scar there.] Julian is the one my parents gave me. Rather fun, isn't it? We're only a syllable off.
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Radu is the smarter horse to pick anyway. Radu Bey is the thing's namesake, because something about naming the horse after a ruler whose moniker was the handsome seemed like it would appeal to the bard.
Alucard allows for some space though, letting Radu sniff at Jaskier carefully. He didn't invent their natures, sometimes things need to figure out their own way.]
Is that a name I ought to play close to my chest? [It is a genuine question. Jaskier's got a career, after all.]
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The horse, finding him sufficient, gives a huff. Jaskier takes it as acceptance, petting down his nose with slow, even movements.
He's learned, in the years with Roach, what spooks a horse. Even a horse calmed with Axii.]
No. It's only a name. Come to think of it, when we first met, I don't think I ever properly introduced myself. [Which was only fair, because he barely knew who he was. He gives Radu some space, turning to Adrian so he could, quite properly, give him a bow.] Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount of Lettenhove, at your eternal service. Adrian. [Ah, Alucard's the first to get the full title, too. In a funny turn of events, he's somehow gotten used to not being known, when he'd never had to introduce himself before.] I should ask the same of yours.
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What follows is a soft hiss from the dhampir, translating as not for drinking in vampire horse speech. Radu ceases, letting out a low snort before his red eyes wander elsewhere.
Dănești is a far more cynical looking thing as Alucard approaches, but there's no resistence. Alucard just hops right on up, because a) these are his imaginary horses and b) he knows how to deal with vampire things.
Immediately though, at Jaskier's own little revelation, he leans forward, eyebrows raised.] Viscount? [This explains a few passing comments, but mostly why joking about bard life choices hit such a nerve. Noted, and then letting it pass.] I think that it'll just confuse everyone else. Sypha's the only other person who knows my full name, and even she calls me Alucard.
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[Okay, he did. It wasn't important here, considering there was no Lettenhove here. He was viscount of approximately nothing, unless one counted the small apartment he now shared with... a lot of people.
Jaskier glances between the vampire and the vampire horse, translating the hiss. Ah.] Very well. It's what I'm quite used to, anyway. [He gives Radu another pat, a little more wary this time, but follows suit in swinging up onto the saddle with ease. A bit harder to bite him from back here, he imagines.] Is she from your sphere, then?
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[If he cared, he'd have dropped that far earlier. Jaskier is one of the least subtle people that Alucard has ever, ever met, and given that both he and his father were subtle like a freight train, that is saying something.]
He won't bite. [A gaze to the horse. Or else.
Radu just stays quiet, waiting to be urged on.]
My father's stables. Vampires can move in an instant, but sometimes, a different entrance is required.
[With that, Alucard nudges his own horse forward. Not that he knows where he's going. Or what else might lurk in the vineyard. All he knows is that movement is a wonderful thing, and that the horses have very little patience in them when saddled and ready.]
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[It won't be terrible if he does. Maybe. Either way, the reassurance is good enough, and he gives the old boy a nudge to get him moving forward. At least the horse is not turning into one, singular, giant bat. So far. (It's probably best he doesn't know if they can or not.) Does one become a vampire horse through a bite? Are they born vampiric, sapping up the blood of their mothers?
Ooh. He feels a chill from the thought, not from the cooling air around them. Not necessarily in answer to Alucard's question but because that's how it worked with his caravan, a path that winds through the vineyard begins laying itself out before them. No potholes or rocks to hurt a horse's hooves on, and the brush of tree branches is just high enough to not smack one in the face.
He rumbles a soft laugh.] I meant Sypha, actually. You and the horse bear a striking resemblance, so I didn't think I need ask.
[A little tease in return. Mostly because he's still stuck with pierogi legs in the back of his head at all times.] They are beautiful, actually. I like the horns. Very... very poignant, somehow.
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He can answer questions about vampire horses all day. For now though, Alucard will simply wander at a conversational pace, glad to only have had a single glass of wine, and absolutely enjoying the luxury of riding through such a space at night time. There's the scent of grapes on the breeze along with wild flowers and pine, and for all the world, Alucard is sure this scent could be sold as a perfume to the highest bidder.
At the mention of Sypha, Alucard demures, just slightly.] Yes, we are. We met under extenuating circumstances. [They'll get to that topic eventually. Maybe best to get it all out and done in one night.] And I expect you two got along immediately, given her people's oral history culture and your profession.
[Enough that one tradition often borrows from the other.]
I'm not sure most mortal men would be using that kind of language for these horses.
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She's certainly fascinating. We met at the theatre; I assume you know her work there? I never considered the use of that sort of magic for theatre. [Whole thunderstorms, the sound of lightning, the pounding of rain. Rolling fog.
He leaves it there. Honestly, He's already pressed Alucard for enough today. He's only glad he could provide a backdrop for something far more relaxing.]
And this is the point where I say, I'm not like most mortal men? [He smiles. Okay, fair. Most men might not appreciate having horses that bite for a taste.] I have long found myself fond, or in awe even, of monstrous things. I feel it would be rather complicated to be Hector's lover without such a stupid attraction to such dangers otherwise.
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The news of the other place Sypha's been working is, actually, a slight surprise to the dhampir. His eyes are on the path ahead, so a little huh! escapes from him instead, the information hardly anticipated.]
No, I didn't. I only saw her as a docent a the Hall of Relics. [Moreover--] I can see how one could adapt magic for such a purpose, although it is a little disconcerting, given that I've seen her slice a vampire in half with a wall of ice before.
[Have fun with that, Jaskier. It is the most metal thing Alucard's seen in his life.
Not all mortal men. Right. Finally, Alucard's eyes leave the road, and he offers Jaskier a deeply deadpan response:] I believe you've just explained yourself utterly on the topic of not only Hector but myself, probably Geralt, and hm, should I go on?
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[A vampire --
With ice --
Why does Alucard do this?? He does this on purpose. Jaskier knows that now. Every word so carefully picked out to pique a man's interest, dropping little sentences behind him like bright flower petals. And then there's thorns. That he steps on. Look, the metaphor here is falling apart, but what's important is --
They must have been not a friend of Alucard's, since he sounds sort of. Chuffed. About it.
Gods, that's. Incredible. You know what? He's definitely going to ask her about that.
He gives Alucard's equally deadpan stare a cocked smile, knowing exactly what he's implied with it.] To be fair, if you all count as monsters, dangerous or otherwise, I find you better company than plenty of people.
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[Go bother her more, Jaskier. Alucard's sure that it is already going to happen, but it feels fair and correct to give the matter a gentle nudge. More because Sypha needs people, and Alucard already knows he won't always be the person to offer that to her.
This is....good. Banter is good. Not where the dhampir thought he'd be after that particular confessional, but that too is good.]
Technically speaking, I'd be the only one that actually counts as a monster through any sort of birth rite. Hector's skills are...Hector's skills, and I've never asked after Geralt's particulars.
[Phrasing, Alucard. Phrasing.]
Want to see how fast these horses can go?
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[And dare he look sullen for a moment, when he recalls it. That basement in Kaer Morhen, so sure he was that it should've been locked. The bloodied beds. The emptied needles. Bottles of parts, both familiar and unfamiliar, floating about in liquid. The small, child-sized beds.
Everyone knows Witchers are taken young. Plenty know that most of them die, too, in the process. It's --
He rubs his face to wipe away the expression, the memory. Jaskier has done his best to ignore it exists at all.]
How fast? Very well! I'll have you know, we practically made a sport of horse racing when I was young. [With rather conservatively bred horses, too. None of them had horns, regrettably. He thinks it's rather fair a horse have a way to defend itself outside a few well-placed kicks. Jaskier gives his horse a bit of a rub on the neck, stretching the path ahead of them long enough it disappears into the horizon.
Plenty of room. He gives the horse the signal, and they take off. Fast. Faster. And the speed only increases as Jaskier grips the saddle's horn, realizing that --
Oh. Fuck. They are not slowing down. At all. In fact, the background is beginning to blur, and Jaskier's stomach has plummeted into his ass. He gives a yell as his hands slip, legs unable to hold onto the saddle, and the yell might be Alucard's name because he is not sure that the horse will fucking stop if he tries to jerk it --
And it doesn't. It blows up dirt with all four hooves and jumps, which is the perfect moment for the bard's hands tp lose their grip. He flips through the air, all of the Horizon blurring around him, and as time slows down he thinks, at least he's pretty sure he can't die if he breaks his neck.]
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[The words young and turned are never a good combination when said so close in the same sentence. No one turns young children into vampires for example. That way madness lies. A prolonged process in youth is not something the dhampir ever intends to ask about. Not when he's realized how touchy a subject family can be when Geralt's in the wrong sort of space for a conversation.
Fast then. Alucard offers Jaskier a look that isn't really a mischiveous grin, but comes close. It is serious, with the undercurrent of if you're sure embedded in raised eyebrows.]
Very well. [The dhampir nudges his own horse gently. He doesn't need to do much more than that.] Radu. Dănești. For the dead travel fast.
[The words aren't magic. Those are about making this experience even more of something for the bard, who Alucard knows will not anticipate exactly how fast these horses move. They're vampires. They have that supernatural speed, and the vineyard is soon a blur. They're out of Jaskier's Horizon now, and Alucard's not sure how far his own is. There's the thick walls around it and --
--oh fuck.
Jaskier's fall plays in slow motion. His hands fly up, there's so much air, and--
--and the dhampir is right there, none of the bard having touched the ground. The horses keep moving - they've too much momentum in this moment - but that's fine. The light drizzle and the mist around them that curls around late autumnal trees means they're in Alucard's domain, and the two horses will get back to them eventually.
He is, however, holding the bard like one of Sypha's fairy stories. No idea how that happened.
With all the graveness that exists within him, Aluard draws himself up just a little bit more.]
I think we've outdone the sport of your youth, Julian.
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Ah. Alucard's shirt. Surely it has wrinkled terribly under the death grip of his hands.
He rests his head on Alucard's chest so he doesn't do something dramatic, like pass out. It has been years upon years since he's fallen from a horse, and the last time he did it he ended up with a broken bone.
With his brain righting itself, he licks his lips and carefully unclaws his fingers from Alucard's finery.] I -- I'm fairly sure I agree. [Alucard really could have warned him. Though he estimates it was a great sport to watch him freewheel through the air like a fish that's flown off the hook.] I appreciate your surge of heroics. I'm quite sure that would've ended up with a broken neck and a feast for your horses.
[His shaking arms have ended up around Alucard's neck, a shift in his legs to indicate he should be. Fine. On his own two feet.] Gods, you're as fast as they are, aren't you?
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