[ open ] HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA (not you abraxas)

[princessvegas]

Who: Julie + Dean + open
When: July 4
Where: Julie's club in the Horizon
What: June sucked, it's time to party patriotically 🇺🇸 Dean's invite here 🇺🇸 no, the Americans don't care that it's not America, they're doing it anyway (just like real life)



[ Approaching Julie's club on this particular day, you can tell from the outside that something is going on. The pink neon has been swapped for red, white and blue, the pink carpet and velvet ropes changed to the good ol' stars and stripes. The front doors are wreathed in an enormous and very patriotic balloon arch, and they're wide open. American flags hang across the walls of the entranceway, and the music is what most Americans would recognize as July 4th standards.

Inside, Julie has obviously been incredibly hard at work, and the club has undergone its most massive changes to date. The entire first floor has been modified -- where there was once a dance floor and seating, there is now an Olympic-sized in-ground pool, dotted with a variety of American themed floats and balls. The glittering quartz flooring is all gone, now replaced with lush lawn grass, and sensible concrete wrapped around the pool itself. At one end, a truly enormous inflatable water slide can send you flying down from fifty feet in the air, just to land with a splash in the water.

How has she managed that height? Well, where there's ordinarily a roof, there is now only open sky, blue and picturesque with puffy white clouds lazily floating by. The sun is bright but never too hot, and incapable of burning anyone's skin. The only thing between the sky and the building are dozens of red, white and blue decorations, strung from the balconies to overhang the pool.

Don't worry if you weren't exactly prepared for a pool party! Julie, queen of not only parties but also wardrobes, has helpfully converted the warehouse part of the building for this very problem. Racks and racks of bathing suits and beach towels are available for use, with every conceivable style up for grabs. Trunks, one-pieces, string bikinis, banana hammocks, she's got it all! While many match the red, white and blue theme, all types of colors and patterns are present. Grab a towel from a stack, hop in one of the striped changing cabanas, then get to swimming. Don't forget your red, white or blue flip-flops and sunglasses!

Hungry? Well, Dean has you covered. On the lawn, Julie has provided him with a wet dream-inducing grill and every imaginable kind of meat to cook on it. Also in this section are tables and tables full of snacks, desserts and drinks, along with the full bar that is always present. The bartender, Steven, is always ready to make anything you could want. (He is dressed in what is best described as "Sexy Uncle Sam" -- in that it's a star-spangled wrestling singlet, a glittery red white and blue bow tie, an Uncle Sam hat and a small, fake white beard.) Plenty of picnic tables are present to eat at.

As the afternoon passes, the sky will gradually darken until it's black and clear, with a wide expanse of stars, the way Julie remembers seeing night from the empty prairies of Kansas. Between Dean and Julie, there is no shortage of fireworks; as proud Americans raised in places where there's little else to do, they are experts at blowing shit up in creative ways. The tables disappear and are replaced with blankets on the grass, meant to be laid on and shared. An incredible fireworks show rounds the night out, and only once the sky is calm again are people expected to leave.

Or pass out. Getting completely wasted is also an Independence Day tradition. ]

Comments

[gynvael]

You grew up behind borders? [ Hm. Geralt's often thought about how it is to be, what. Trapped? In a sense. To have never set foot outside your borders. The Continent isn't always open—goes through periods of shifting territories, ever-changing lines on maps—but he's a Witcher. He belongs to no nation, is expected to have no loyalty to anyone but himself. As long as the gates open for him, he can go where he likes.

And if they don't, he moves on. Simple.

Things are different here. It's the one aspect he'll never be used to. That his decision to reside in the Free Cities means most of the natives in this world see him as of the territory. Which is hardly the case. ]

They occasionally go by other names. [ The elezen, as Himeka refers to them. ] On the Continent, they call themselves the Aen Seidhe. Humans rather fucked them over, so. Few groups remain.

[ It's said matter-of-factly. Humans are what they are. And the Continent's history is long and bloody. He isn't unsympathetic to the elves, especially doesn't care to defend the humans. But at the same time, what else is new? ]

[godshattering]

Well, yes and no. [ That's a question he thinks about for a solid pause, mostly to find a way to summarize it without dumping a(nother) history text on Geralt. An attempt is made. ] Fodlan the continent is surrounded by seas on all sides and the closest countries - besides the lone one it shares a border with - are all a decently long journey by ship away. When Fodlan separated into three countries over time, each was governed separately but none had borders that you couldn't pass through relatively freely. Even then, extended travel was usually only possible for merchants or nobility. And there also were... other powers at play besides just the ruling ones, and those were responsible for limiting what I'm sure they called outside influences.

[ That's as succinct as he can get to explain unless Geralt has further questions. But, he thinks to himself with a faint smile, the other man strikes him as someone who asks questions mostly when necessary. ]

So our travel and communication being limited here? Not entirely unfamiliar to me either. It's a good thing we have ways to still exchange information outside of the usual ways.

[ The other name Geralt provides for the elves doesn't really give Claude any more context - but the following explanation? That does. And the sentiment he thinks he hears in the other's voice is a familiar one, because for all that Claude believes in people as a whole: they can also be the absolute worst without even batting an eye. ]

That doesn't really ring a bell for me either, unfortunately. There's sort of a comparison to an ancient civilization that once existed before Fodlan was even called Fodlan. Very few of them remain today, though that wasn't known until recently for a lot of reasons.

[gynvael]

[ So effectively what's occurred here in Abraxas. He understands that about the continents—he's met those from worlds where they travel across continents—but like Claude, vast oceans separate the piece of land they are on, oceans that take months to cross. Other continents exist. But he's never been there. The travel is too difficult. There's a reason they refer to their world as simply The Continent. It is the only one they know and the only one upon which the politics matter. Everything else is too far away to matter. ]

I shouldn't expect so. [ If it did ring familiar, the implications would be...fuck, he doesn't even know. A headache. It would suggest that the elves crashed upon another world during the Conjunction.

Not known, huh. That sounds about how things go. When is history not buried beneath the weight of its bodies? ]

It matters little. [ Ancient civilizations from home, he means. They're here. These problems, these politics, of their world—it isn't in the past exactly, but. There isn't anything to be done about it while they're trapped elsewhere. Not that he had any inclination to do something in the first place. People will always find a war to fight. ] We've a large magic rock to contend with now.

[godshattering]

[ It's true: none of it really matters at this point. They aren't in their home worlds, don't even know what's happening there in their absences; it's unlikely the past from any of them will assist with much here. Keeping his eyes trained on the future alone is nothing new so it seems like it'll serve him well here. Geralt's last comment gets a slight snort of a laugh from Claude. ]

Ah, yes, the magic rock blessing us all with its ever looming presence. I've gotta say dealing with this one is something else entirely new for me on top of everything else beyond new about Abraxas.

[ That shakes another thought in loose association loose from the corner of his mind. It's not difficult to recall the scene of Geralt rushing in with someone else he still doesn't know but who had clearly been injured - they both had, from the looks of it. And, well. There's still lots of questions he'd like to ask surrounding that event and possibly even more so since Mag seem more concerned about them as people than just the injuries alone. In the kind of way that reminds him, slightly, of a battlefield where you get used to seeing wounds of all kinds and have to remember they shouldn't be normal when those injuries compound and escalate. Geralt's fortunate to get a few moments of peace while Claude sorts through what it is he wants to ask with the tidbits of information he'd gleaned in mind. ]

Do you often head out into the desert to... do whatever it is you do? [ Well. That's one way to ask it. If Geralt looks his way, he'll wave a hand in an abstract gesture as if to say he's not asking for specifics - generalities will work just fine. ] I noticed you had a sword on your back even if it wasn't in a noticeable scabbard. I've seen some mercenaries carry them that way while blending in as merchants.

[gynvael]

[ Yeah. Not as new for him, unfortunately. He lets that pass by without comment. Takes the moments of peace as they come, though the truth is, he's long grown used to constant chattering.—even before Jaskier came along. Growing up with that many brothers leaves little room for quiet.

He can't be surprised that Claude has circled around to their first topic. The man's clearly curious. Geralt does not look over, instead just watching a few people splash into the pool. He's no desire to explain what he was doing in the desert that time in particular.

His usual work, though? That's a simple enough topic. ]

I'm not a mercenary. [ And he isn't trying to blend in as a merchant. He can hardly pass as one even if he left his sword home. He just prefers not to carry it strapped at the ready in a city full of people. ] I'm a hunter.

[ There's a difference. ]

[godshattering]

A hunter. [ Claude repeats that and considers the clarification. Which feels like an important one even if he has yet to know the whole context, but it's enough for that difference to be noted. ] I suppose you don't mean a hunter of the variety that goes looking for game alone, then.

[ It's difficult to not think of Leonie then as she fits into both of those categories he'd mentioned - just one more memory of home scattered in there with all the rest. Though it wouldn't be something he necessarily has in common with Geralt if that's the case, it could be a connection all the same. He joins Geralt in observing the pool festivities, still searching for a comparison all the while. ]

Both are common where I'm from, though hunting for food is probably more so when it comes to the term hunter. Mercenaries certainly exist too as my professor was one before joining the academy. But the ones I know of mercenaries also tend to handle more than just bands of bandits, what with various beasts and monsters roaming the land. They also tend to favor swords, which is what yours reminded me of when I saw it.

[ It's far from his most subtle floating of something out there to see if it'll bring back any more information, but. Worth a shot. ]

[gynvael]

[ Full of fun facts, isn't he? Geralt can't say he needs anyone to tell him sellswords and hunters are common in their world—he's pretty damn sure every world with a sentient species capable of earning coin has them—but he files away the information nonetheless. ]

No. I don't. [ For Geralt, that is clear enough. For Claude? Probably not.

Somewhere during their conversation, his wolf wandered off. When it returns, it wears two red and blue stars strapped to a shimmering band on its head. Geralt does not appear alarmed by this. Instead, he takes the note the wolf carries—and Claude will find Geralt's eyes drifting upstairs to Julie, their pink-haired host. Not that he ever needs a reason to end a conversation he's finished with, whether his companion feels the same or not.

He rises to his feet without indication, patting the wolf on its decorated head. ] Keep talking. He'll listen.

it's a wrap!

[godshattering]

[ It's not clear enough, but. Claude's beginning to understand he's only going to get answers in whatever form Geralt sees fit, and that suits him just fine. Or doesn't dissuade him, rather; Geralt's way of responding isn't unlike talking to Teach when his professor had first arrived at the monastery. On the plus side, Geralt actually responds instead of just staring blankly like Teach would until he gave up on waiting for an answer. That's a bonus!

The wolf returns with decorations and he's about to make a comment about how suddenly they're very under-dressed by comparison, but then the note's retrieved. It's not difficult to see what's coming and he glances vaguely in the direction of where Geralt looked, only to choke back a laugh (successfully) when it's followed by the other man standing up in clear departure. The abruptness of it is comforting in its own way because that's another move out of Teach's book he's also very well-acquainted with. ]

Don't worry, I'll keep him entertained for a bit. You enjoy the rest of your evening.

[ Geralt will get an idle half-salute like those are serious orders and a grin in farewell before he heads off to his next destination, and meanwhile: Claude's holding up his end of the bargain by wandering off with the wolf in tow to browse the rest of the party scene. ]