[open] a fantastic public charity event!

[cointosser]

Who: Jaskier, open to all of the Free Cities!
What: The bard is holding a concert at Cadens's Old Public Hall in order to raise money for its renovation!
Where: Cadens
When: The end of March, a bit after the eclipse/Singularity event shenanigans
Warnings: None. This is a family-friendly event. :)

The Event

[Flyers hand-written and posted around the city of Cadens promise many a thing: a lovely night of community and belonging, beautiful decorations, a precious place to bring your bonnie sweet (the most important.) Jaskier fully intends on this being the perfect date night; the more lovers who become closer thanks to him, the better. The hall will see a larger audience than it ever has before! And hopefully more money will be thrown at it than ever before.

Of course, that’s what this is: a charity concert being held to raise funds for the old Cadens speaking hall, a large hall that has long fallen into disrepair. Through the efforts of Jaskier (and mostly) Alucard, restoration of the hall has begun. However, it has far more renovations ahead of it, and coin will be needed.

The concert is meant to be a grand time, but, it is about the money. This is a charity event, technically. But there's no reason he can't have fun with it.

And since Jaskier does nothing by halves, he has gone fully all-out. At the concert, any goers will be free to partake in:

+ free food (courtesy of himself, Alucard, and Sam's cooking, generally fresh bread, rolls, sweets, cheeses, and various finger foods and slices of roasts)
+ free wine and local juices (mostly paid out of Jaskier's pocket)
+ flowers will be given out, though it is STRONGLY IMPLIED a donation is expected (bouquets can be purchased for your honey, as well)
+ Nadine will be going around the crowd and providing small samples of tonics and potions

There will also be a small raffle that Jaskier will be running. Tickets can be bought for a small fee, and ticket holders can win small prizes of bouquets (courtesy of yours truly), a box of fresh pastries from the local bakery, an array of prized feathers from his pet toy gryphon, or a slightly fancier bottle of wine. The ultimate prize will be a free song written personally for you by Jaskier, all topics and requests accepted. Yes, it is a grand prize. For the small prizes, you can decide whether your ticket is a winner or a loser!

Please, remember to keep your behaviors amenable, fair citizens of Cadens. This concert is for charity, and no roughhousing, fighting, or generally ill tempers will be suffered. And as an event on city property, it is meant to remain completely neutral. No politics or you'll be kindly escorted outside the event!]

The Old Public Hall



[The Cadens Public Hall is an old, large speaking hall hosting distinctive architectural features that are strongly Thornean in influence. Like the old days, the concert is mostly meant to be standing-room only; the second floor mezzanine has been blocked off due to unsafe conditions (mostly old, rotting floorboards.) There's a slight musty smell that lingers despite Jaskier's best efforts to hide it.

His attempts to hide it are vast in number: every where one looks are richly colorful groupings of flowers, tied to pillars, hanging from strings of semi-magical lights that have been criss-crossed over the main concert area to mimic the sight of stars, and growing from pots meant to hide dusty corners. Illusionary birds fly and flutter about, adding spots of color and life to the old hall.

Small tables and chairs have been set out the entrance for folks to eat and relax at while music fills the hall and spills out.

Jaskier himself headlines the music, accompanied by a flautist, a drummer and a cellist. Songs that he performed at the Summit are part of his set: a song that venerates the magical accomplishments of Thorne (which may earn some grumbles from local Cadenites, but that same magic flows through the hall itself, amplifying the music and preventing echoing and regulating temperature.) His ballad about Lyfbringr, one of the gods of Solvunn, features, with a slightly baudy edge to it. But most prominent are several songs about the Free Cities themselves: bastions of hope for those who have lost their home, rich mixing pots of culture and people, with fantastic advances in technology.

Peppered among the songs are general fun, upbeat songs. As the night draws to a close, the songs become slower and softer, meant for dances between lovers.

Between sets of songs, Jaskier can be see moving through the crowd, shaking hands, dancing, and showing off his precious new pet toy gryphon named Mog, with black fur and feathers and an owlish face. (Yes, you can pet him.) Mog accompanies him on stage as well, flicking his tail and sleeping inside his lute case.]

Speech, Speech, Speech

[Like all good events, it must begin with a speech.

At the beginning of the concert, while his band behind him plays quiet music, Jaskier takes the head of the dais that is acting at the stage, giving the concert-goers a hearty bow with a sweep of his large, feathered hat.]

Hello and greetings, my fellow citizens of Cadens! While you may not know me -- though I highly doubt that, if you've ever stepped foot into a local tavern -- I have been dwelling in your city in some time now as the conveniently-dubbed Summoned. I am the Master Bard Jaskier, and tonight we have gathered for a few hours of good will and merriment.

I have been welcomed into your city ever since I came here by chance, and have long wanted to give back in what ways I can. This concert is being held for the good of the very hall we stand in, long having fallen to disrepair in lieu of other pursuits -- important ones, I'm sure! -- by the city. However, as a musician, I have high respect for any such beautiful place, and I have recently began working tirelessly with an anonymous patron and friend to restore this grand old beauty for the use of all Cadens citizens.

Please, peruse the first floor of the hall to see our recent work in restoring and preserving historical Cadens architecture. There is free food and drink for all -- though, if you're a known glutton, learn a bit of restraint for the sake of the children. [Laugh track.] There are small gifts available in return for donations at the stands just ousdie. There will be collection plates placed around the tables, and by the door -- you'll see that lovely young man there, yes? He'll be glad to take your coin off your hands! [Another laugh track. He's hilarious, he knows.] All donations will go straight to the restoration of this historic hall.

By your leave, lovely gents and beautiful dames, I bid you a wonderful night. May your hearts be light, and your coin purses even lighter!

For ideas about the general mood of the music:

Youtube Bardcore Playlist

Comments

[yeshou]

[ Wen Kexing looks at a complete loss when the drink is refused. While he certainly doesn't expect anything friendly from the man, he's never encountered anyone that wouldn't take advantage of a free drink. It's not like he's talking to a monk! He doesn't do much to hide his confusion at the reaction, even though he puts the flask back. Just when he's ready to turn a pout on Geralt for rejecting his request to pet the animal, he's surprised to find the gryphon held up for him.

He almost balks, his first reaction is to assume there's some unknowable catch. And then when he isn't mocked, he scoops up the little bundle of sharp points and feathers into his arms, cradling it like a child holding his first cat and grinning widely. ]

Is it a baby? Maybe you just have to show it how!

[gynvael]

[ Never let it be said miniature furry beasts don't bring people together. Geralt still doesn't know what to make of the man but his feelings aren't strong enough either way to deny someone a small animal. Not like he thinks his companion will run off with it.

Takes it off his hands, anyhow. ]

Mmh. Fully grown. Or so I've been assured.

[ If it isn't, they're to have a problem very soon—but in all honesty, it hasn't got the look of a hatchling. Its paws and talons are about the right size for its body; its feathers are not downy, but that of an adult's. ]

[yeshou]

Grown? Even when it's so small?

[ Wen Kexing smiles brightly at the gryphon, looking at it with open wonder. He might not have the energy of a peaceful or even honorable character, but it's probably evident that Geralt can rely on him in one sense: he's not extremely sharp. He's happy to stroke the fur and feathers along the gryphon's back, poking around the joint where wing meets shoulder. ]

You could be dangerous anyway. It doesn't matter if you're small. Don't worry, Papa just acts strict, but he really loves you.

[ He looks back at Geralt as if he's confirming this somehow. ]

What's its name?

[gynvael]

Is a mouse not grown?

[ The gryphon curls up in the man's arms, tucking its wings and head until it becomes a very round ball.

Geralt is fond of it. He made it a bed. But he still won't claim it as his.

He sighs. Don't ask about the name. That entails explaining the talking furry moogle in Jaskier's domain That Geralt has been training to wield a sword for reasons he will not get into. ]

Mog.

[yeshou]

[ He gives the gryphon a long look of consideration, apparently openly comparing it in his mind to a mouse. How do you tell a baby mouse from a grown mouse again? Well, in the end, Wen Kexing accepts that answer, smiling at the fur and feathers he's holding like its a puppy. ]

I guess they could be small. I've never seen anything that looks like this. It's more like a cat than a mouse, though. Who did it learn to be so content from?

[ Certainly not grumpy Geralt! Even though he doesn't say that, his smile turns mischievous. ]

Did you name it?

[gynvael]

Haven't, either. [ He lifts a hand in something a shrug. No one domesticates a gryphon on the Continent to become miniature sized. The creatures in this world remind him of the ones from his own: unexplained, as if fallen into the world at random, and part of him has suspected it may have to do with the Singularity. That perhaps that is where they crawled through instead of evolving naturally upon a single sphere.

But then, he's started to wonder that about other worlds, too. How could multiple have a version of dragons, lycanthropes, and yet they are all similar? They must've come from somewhere. A source that ties everything together. ]

Jaskier named it. [ It is a content little thing, which is the only reason Geralt has not grouched about it being in the house more. Even if he does find feathers shed over the pillows sometimes. ] I'm sure you could purchase one of your own.

[ They're particularly costly, according to Jaskier, but Geralt's been by the shops. He's seen some other creatures sold as pets, including fiery-looking reptile. ]

[yeshou]

The musician? He seems popular.

[ Wen Kexing wouldn't actually know popular from any performer drawing a crowd. He's only used to grifters and murderers, each drawing attention only when they want targets, not fans. He sees the crowds and charity guests and assumes the draw must be because people like the hosts. They must have good reputation. ]

Is he one of your friends? No wonder.

[ He smiles, half to himself, as he pets the gryphon, admiring the smoothness of the feathers. The thought of owning one is both charming and taboo to him. He's not sure at first how to approach that suggestion at all. ]

...Uh. They have a lot of strange animals here. I wonder how they got here? Is this the magic that everyone likes to talk about?

[gynvael]

He does that. [ Whether Geralt is referring to Jaskier being popular or inexplicably his friend, he does not clarify. Both, perhaps.

At least the man makes less nonsense commentary when he's cuddling a small animal. Geralt is considering some inherent value to the creature beyond it being...fluffy. Namely, that it is a sufficient distraction for those who bother him with conversation. ]

They're only strange to us. [ All of the Summoned are foreign to this sphere. ] The locals seem to have a number of texts written on them.

[ Including alchemical uses and research at the museum. So they must have existed on the earth for some time. Though how, it's possible it's as Wen Kexing suggests: the magic of this land. ]

[yeshou]

[ The answer is vague, but that Wen Kexing can interpret. Or at least he assumes he can. By the way his smile creeps up with feline knowing, he certainly believes he has some secret understanding about Geralt that he didn't have before. The temporary reprieve he may be giving the Witcher is only because he's still taking things in, and the energy is still resting below the surface, tucked under the sharpness of his gaze. ]

You are well-versed in many aspects.

[ Of the world they are in. Of magic and monsters. Of relationships, apparently! ]

Master, how long have you studied?

[gynvael]

[ He tips back more wine, his eyes returning to the stage, roaming the crowd. He came here to see Jaskier, but he's also here to make sure nothing gets out of hand. Which, frankly, is not a job anyone needs to ask him to do. Mostly just does it on instinct, but Cadens is a big city. All big cities are volatile in their own way. ]

Too long for it to matter.

[ Also depends on what one counts as studying. When was the last time he sat down and cracked open a book to learn the way Vesemir showed them as a child? Decades, at least. But he's peered into a lecture at the academy here, now and again. He draws fewer questions in this place than he did on the Continent. Benefits of being summoned into a world where stranger things than Witchers wander about, he supposes. ]

[yeshou]

[ Wen Kexing raises his head, tilting it to one side like a dog might when trying to pick out familiar sounds. The bright, almost childish expression quiets to focused curiosity as he studies Geralt. He's seen the scars, but there's always so much behind such things. Too much to read into. ]

Were you raised as a hunter?

[ Or is he some kind of immortal who lived a normal life at some point? It's mild curiosity, really, from a man that doesn't know what living is. He asks because he wants the frame of reference. ]

[gynvael]

Yes. [ Geralt is elusive about most things, but it's less a matter of mystery and more a lack of desire to elaborate. ] As a boy.

[ About a century ago, so a modicum of immortality is involved—or extended lifespan, rather. He ages. Just slowly.

If he were asked, he'd say that living is what you make of it. Some would say a Witcher's life isn't a life at all, but for him, it's what he has. He doesn't hate it. Maybe he should, maybe he did once, a buried sort of resentment of the choices taken from him, but—nothing good ever comes from letting those feelings fester. ]

[yeshou]

As a boy.

[ Wen Kexing doesn't laugh. He doesn't smile or joke at that, but he also doesn't draw back or criticize. Just three words, but he takes them in with more weight than the hundreds he's probably spoken in just the past few hours, flitting around the charity event. He strokes Mog gently down the back, fingers combing over preened feathers, and lets the sight of the man who is no longer a boy digest. Scarred. Reserved. Arguably wounded from some points of view.

Cared for. He has friends. Family, even. What a thought. ]

What do you do now?

[gynvael]

[ If Geralt senses a shift in the air, he makes no comment. The man remains a puzzle to him, but not enough of one he feels compelled to solve it right then and now.

Yeah. As a boy. He does not live in a world where the loss of his childhood is wholly unusual. At least he grew up, with a family. Not the one he thought he'd have, but one nonetheless. It's something. It isn't nothing. ]

Same as always. [ It's what he knows. Killing monsters. And coin is easier to come by here, where beasts roam more numerously. ] You?

[yeshou]

[ He does smile a little bit at that. Same as always, which makes sense. He saw the scars when he accidentally met Geralt in the baths. He saw the muscle and the signs of his profession. What else does a man like that do but the same as what he's learned? He's a martial artist, be it in the form of a warrior or assassin or whatever it is he has learned to hunt. Men like that rarely quit. They fight until they run out of fight, unless he was planning to become a monk. That makes Wen Kexing smirk. He can't see it. ]

Me? I died as a boy.

[ He continues to pet Mog idly, fingers tracing up the gryphon's neck and over the curve of the beak without looking at where they might be headed. ]

I became the lord of ghosts, forbidden to enter the light.

[ If this were the jianghu, he would be fighting as soon as he said that. It's ironic how little meaning the words have here. ]

I suppose I can't say "same as always", but I have someone to haunt, so I haunt him. He's an idiot that needs a ghost to remind him not to die.