abraxaslogs | [ OPEN/SOME CLOSED ] if I had to do it over, I'd do it all again

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[ OPEN/SOME CLOSED ] if I had to do it over, I'd do it all again

Who: Jaskier, Ciri, Geralt, Yennefer, Alucard, and some open prompts
When: Mid-to-Late January
Where: Cadens and the Horizon
What: Jaskier wakes from a vivid, nasty dream to physical evidence that it was unfortunately very real. He spirals, but like, only a little bit. It mostly involves getting drunk and buying hats to cope.
Warnings: Mentions of bodily injury/torture, maybe PTSD, heavy drinking

[Will be throwing starters (including open ones) down below! You can hit me up at

scathefire or #scathefire6612 if you'd like to plot anything or want an additional starter. Also, let me know if you'd like me to avoid S2 spoilers, because there will be a lot.]

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Goro has taken to spending his time in the Horizon not enjoying the comforts of his own domain, but since his own plans are advancing thanks to a rather fruitful discussion with the Prime Minister, taking stock of the others who share that space. As his discussion with the Thornean sorcerer Strange demonstrated, exploring other domains can be useful in determining the character of his flow Summoned. Goro is not popular with them. He knows this and does not care, so it pays to find out more about those who will, sooner or later want to "deal with him" as Estinien so aptly put it.

The door to the tavern does not bar him, and so Goro steps in, floorboards creaking under his weight. His attention is immediately attracted to the bar, and so completely misses Jaskier sprawled out on a table near the back.

Well, might as well avail himself of whatever spirits are available. Some of them might even be worthwhile. In the Horizon, who knows?

He strides across the tavern floor, stepping behind the bar to examine the liqours available. A massive hand takes one, uncorks it and Goro knocks it back.

He's barely managed a taste before he withdraws the bottle, and let's it drop to the floor with a crash. "Nnnh. Weak." The owner can surely summon up more later. It's no bother.

Maybe the next bottle.

[Jaskier opens his eyes to the floor underneath his table vibrating, which is very disorienting, by the way, when you're three bottles in. He looks up to see the chandelier is swaying back and forth, and there's this soft, pathetic little whimpering noise that, as he raises to sit up, he realizes is coming from Moglad. Moglad, who is hiding underneath a table with his paws over his head.]

Is the earth cracking, Moglad? [He asks, pushing himself to his feet with an annoyed grunt. In the fucking Horizon? Well, it's just his luck. He's only built the place, might as well crack it in half or something --

He turns around, just barely ducking out of Lukasz's snap at his hair, to.

What he's pretty sure is some sort of living wall of muscle and. Arms. Oh, those are arms. Is his vision blurring? Yes. It must be. Considering the number of them.

He flinches and Moglad lets out a tiny kupooooo... Wonderful. Now there's glass all over his floor. Wonderful.]

Well. By all means, help yourself. [He rubs his eyes. No, there's definitely still too many arms.] If you're going to take my drink, the least you can do is not smash the bottles all over the bloody floor. What, were you raised in a barn?

Goro turns, a second bottle already uncorked in one of his too many hands. He regards Jaskier for a moment, having not seen him coming in. "No. Shokan are subterranean by nature." He replies to the bard's question about his place of birth. He takes a few more bottles in his other two many hands at random before stepping out from behind the bar.

"This is the Horizon. Make it disappear." He replies indifferently in regards to the shattered bottle. Must humans complain about every little thing? "I was curious if any of the liquor here would be worthwhile."

[He was not quite prepared for the face of the beast once he's turned around. Despite his drunken state, Jaskier is still smart enough to take a step backwards.

Oh. Eesh. That's -- one of those faces only a mother could love sort of thing. Well. He tilts his head, squinting. Maybe with more hair... a less jaundice-inspired skin tone... and if he was very, very drunk, which he is. A bag over his head. A lot of arms could certainly -- why does anyone need four arms, really, come to think of it? That's far too many. Maybe three, tops.]

That was what we call a rhetorical question, but. Noted. Born in a cave. Thank you. [As to what a Shokan is, he's fairly sure he doesn't need to ask. A troll with four arms. Simple.]

Ah, look, I appreciate the advice, my many-armed-friend, but not all of us are lazy mages, and I like doing things the hard way. Which includes cleaning up messes, which, by the way, were not there about five seconds ago. Look, I don't mind you running through my stock, but show a little respect.

Goro pauses for a moment. Jaskier's insistence on cleaning up the mess himself, saying I'm not a lazy mage is...surprising, given the man looks something of a fop. Even Goro has come to rely on the ability to create or destroy on a whim within the confines of his own domain. Perhaps he should be re-thinking that reliance.

So he nods in acknowledgement. You've given him food for thought, Jaskier and Goro can respect that. "I apologize." He replies as he does so. "I will dispose of the mess before I take my leave."

He approaches Jaskier's table, but rather than sit, he summons up his own throne. Even in the Horizon he does not trust human-sized chairs, and he takes his seat. "I have been exploring other domains." He explains, setting the bottles he took down on the table. "Learning. Observing." And then he also slides one of the bottles towards the bard. Why not? He's clearly already been imbibing before Goro got here, it's fine.

"I am Goro."

Edited 2022-01-19 16:17 (UTC)

[Whether or not Jaskier expected an apology -- he very much did not, actually, because manners haven't been invented on the Continent yet -- his only real response is a raising of his eyebrows. Oh. Well. As long as he cleans it up, then, it's not a problem.]

Then there's no problem at all.

[It's as simple as that. After Estinien's whole dragon thing, a man wanting four arms is not that strange. (It is, but he's moving past it, he's drunk and morose, and things really matter so far less now.) Jaskier has somehow oozed himself into a seat, and considering the -- Shokan -- is bringing more drink over, he can't be terribly bad, can he? He even laughs at the appearance of the throne. It is nothing that can hurt him, so the domain doesn't even bristle at the intrusion.]

Brilliant idea. I wouldn't trust my chairs to hold up your, ah, massive bulk. [That's a compliment, by the way. My, up close, there's even. More of him. A lot more. There's generally just a lot.]

Ah! A good pastime, actually. I did a fair bit of exploring myself when I first came here, scoping out the other little dream homes. [Jaskier crafts a goblet for his friend, large enough it should fit in his relatively boulder-sized hand. If he chooses to bother with a glass at all. His own is smaller, though just as detailed with fine-cut gems embedded in it.] Goro? Well, it's nice to meet you. You know, I swear I've heard your name before. It sticks in the mind. [But drunk, and sad, and weighed down by his memories, it doesn't feel important now.] Jaskier, baster mard, at your service. [He slurs a bit, but ends the sentence with his lips turning up into a drunk smile. You know, the size of him. Bet he could hold his drink.] Now, we shall have to find a drink that suits you, if the first was too weak. Oh, I don't suppose you've ever heard of tequila, have you?

[Thanks, Julie.]

Goro examines the goblet. "Fine craftsmanship." He notes and takes a bottle at random from his collection to pour it in. The drink is as weak as the first, but he continues to nurse it. "I have had experience with beings from Realms beyond my own, but here I have come to understand that I inhabit only a small island in a much vaster sea." He explains. "My knowledge is insufficient, so I come here, to learn more." Mostly to know more about who his probable eventual enemies will be. To see their domains gives insight to their character, of how they act and think. Knowledge wins battles as much as strength and technique. This man, probably not a threat on his own. Not a fighter, given to excess...the drinking suggests personal demons of some kind. But who does he know, and what might he be coaxed into sharing, especially in his current state? And then the name sparks recognition. Goro nods, after only a brief second to parse the slurring.

"The performer." Goro replies. "Yes. Your name is known to me. Your repertoire is well-known." Plenty of his followers in the movement know and enjoy Jaskier's songs. Even Sterne, an ex-soldier and someone skilled and experienced enough to be considered the closest thing Goro has to a lieutenant, has been caught humming a few bars of some of Jaskier's material. It provides a neat deflection from where exactly Jaskier knows Goro's name from.

He looks down at the goblet in his hand, swishing it about. "The name is familiar." He says. "My father has on occasion employed the services of a bounty killer who works the wastes, and who comes from Earthrealm. I recall him expressing a fondness for such a drink. Human alcohol does little for Shokan, however." He takes another drink of the...vodka, judging by the bottle. "But the taste is not unpleasant."

[If anything will catch Jaskier's attention, it's being remembered. Especially by giant, four-armed troll men. Shokans. Whatever.] Ooh, you've heard of me. Well, of course you have. I put many hours into spreading my good name and my better music.

[And yet, despite everything that's bloody happened, there's a warmth in that. Well-known. He sure as fuck better be. It's all he's got now. Even after a year. It's -- it's another reminder that no time at all has passed in this world. This sphere.

Ah, fuck it. You know what? He wants to enjoy being known. Remembered. It's the last time he's felt wanted. Appreciated. Properly. Appreciated for what he'd been meant to spend his life doing.

And all that thinking has sort of left him spinning away from what Goro is saying, but he catches on near the end. Bounty hunters or something, very neat. Sort of like Witchers, maybe.] Really? Strong stomach, have you? Then you show me what you drink. You're free to create a choice bit of liquor here, and I am absolutely all about exploring new horizons.

[Hah. Horizons. And faster ways to inebriation.]

"I have not yet been so fortunate myself to be among your audiences." Jaskier probably would have remembered seeing Goro during one of his performances. "But I have spoken to many in Cadens, and they consider it good fortune you came to the Free Cities." And that's true. Goro has asked his followers what they tend to think of the other Summoned, and where Jaskier was concerned, he had many fans.

Goro regards him for a moment. "If you wish it." It's probably not a good idea, but at least in the Horizon the results may be unpleasant, but not lethally so. Taking a moment, he conjures a leaden mug, that quickly begins to fill itself with a thick, dark liquid that smells faintly of a recently-extinguished firepit.

"This is a recreation of a liquor known among my people as The Burn. A particularly fine vintage I remember savouring once, dating back to the second millennium of the reign of Shao Kahn." A damn good millennium, too. He pushes it towards Jaskier, but raises a thick finger in warning. "Shokan have much greater tolerances than humans." A pause. "I would recommend a small sip. To begin with."

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[ OPEN/SOME CLOSED ] if I had to do it over, I'd do it all again

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