abraxaslogs | OPEN — Did no one hear the distant thunder?

The Horizon has — perhaps unsurprisingly, for anyone who knows him — become one of Urianger's primary haunts of late. Ever since his initial visit he's been learning new ways to shape the place to his will: Thancred had explained that in the depths of meditation such transformations take little more than a thought, and the opportunity to explore magicks adjacent to that of the Ancients has been far too good to pass up. It's a strange feeling, really, to hold such powers of control at his fingertips—

Which often brings his thoughts back to the Ascians — Elidibus, Lahabrea, and Emet-Selch — and the depths to which their relationships with life, with existence, might differ.

As such, no small amount of his time in the Horizon is spent in the depths of philosophical indulgence; in the twilit calm of Lydha Lran he can often be found amid the meadows with tea, cakes, and a selection of books, evidently finding the pursuit of such matters relaxing enough to warrant a distinctly floral picnic. When he wishes for some truly undisturbed study he can be found in the halls of the Great Gubal Library — more often than not in the Astrology and Astromancy Camera — as he paws through the books in an attempt to find something in there that might assist with his study of Abraxian Arcanum.

The last spot, and possibly the most sentimental, is The Last Stand of Old Sharlayan. The lap of the waves is peaceful, soothing, and his favoured table overlooks the water, surrouinding him with the fond memories of the time he drank far too much ale (read: one pint) in the company of his closest friends. Here, he'll be surrounded by papers and books that take up much of the table, but there should be space on the farthest side should company pass through!

Edited 2022-10-01 18:04 (UTC)

It is, perhaps, equally unsurprising that Viktor is something of a snoop when it comes to other people's domains, especially when those domains are libraries full of books. Recreating such a thing, with content inside, is something of a feat, and if he opens the tomes to find text inside, he wastes no time in devouring the contents. By now, he's come around to the fact that other worlds--other universes--exist outside the scope of his own, so anything he can glean from

The fact that it's probably rude to be poking around in someone's mind-scape rarely occurs to him. He is also not quiet--his distinctive gait, even in the Horizon, ensures that Urianger's formerly-uninterrupted study is now being interrupted by the sound of a cane on the stone floor and this guy, who definitely has an armful of books.

He looks surprised, to see someone else here, like he's not the one effectively breaking and entering.

"Sorry." He doesn't sound sorry. "Did I disturb you?"

Urianger had suspected that this would happen eventually. Thancred had been quite upfront about the fact that one of the Horizon's primary functions among the Summoned is to keep in touch with distant comrades, and that with practice he'll eventually be able to traverse them himself. For the time being, however, Urianger is preoccupied with getting acquainted with his own; it seems only prudent to master his own realm before venturing out into others.

That part of his Horizon would manifest in the form of the Great Gubal Library is hardly surprising — and indeed, Urianger is pleased to have a space into which he can retreat for his more rigorous study. Here, away from Thancred's exasperated sighs, he is free to research to his heart's content; he can spread his papers and stack his books without the worry of what his long-suffering companion might have to say about it.

So deep is he in his research that he doens't notice the intruder at first — not until they break the relative quiet of the library with the tap, tap of their cane and a wholly insincere apology. He glances up at the sound, and for a moment it's all he can do to look at the man as his brain catches up with the fact that there's someone else here.

"... Aye. Art thou lost?"

But then he manages to blink away the last of the academic fugue, and pushes away from his desk to rise to his feet.

"Ah— forgive mine unsatisfactory welcome, I prithee. I am not accustomed to the reception of guests in this realm."

A beat.

"Might I enquire after thy name?"

Look, one cannot present Viktor with a library and not expect him to take advantage of it. Perhaps he's expecting that a place like this must belong to a fellow scholar, who would more than understand an insatiable thirst for knowledge. Perhaps he's so wholly casual about this because he senses a kindred spirit.

"Lost? No, everything here seems fairly well-organized."

Hang on. Give him. A second. Viktor still doesn't seem to realize that he's being rude, though it does seem to dawn on him that he's speaking to the owner of this space, and that he's asking for a real introduction.

"Ah. This is your domain. Apologies, I did not intend to intrude." A LIE. And then, probably because he knows this is a lie, he acquiesces and introduces himself. "It's Viktor."

The man's — Viktor's — claim that his intent had not been to intrude promptus a raise of the eyebrow from Urianger, however the expression looks to be one rooted in mild amusement as opposed to any kind of offense.

"I see. Thou didst not realise thine explorations had taken thee beyond thine own realm?"

Unlikely, but Urianger's tone is delicate enough to make it clear that he isn't trying to instigate an argument. He knows all too well the temptations of knowledge, and he suspects he'll find himself in a similar situation in the not so distant future. Perhaps it'll even be Viktor's realm he intrudes upon, if the Twelve's sense of humour can yet reach him in this place.

"I would have a care, my friend. If my companion's tales are true, there are domains far less welcoming than mine that await thy discovery."

Still, he wants to avoid the conversation taking a grim turn and so he continues on:

"'Tis a pleasure to make thine acquaintance, Viktor. I am Urianger Augurelt," he adds, touching the tips of his fingers to his breast as he inclines his head in greeting. When he glances up again, those pale gold eyes seem to be assessing his visitor curiously.

"Thou art a fellow scholar of some manner, I take it?"

"There are ways to secure one's domain, if you'd rather guard it against intruders."

So, he knew that he had left the boundaries of his own space, and also he knows that he's poking around in someone else's stuff. The good news is that Urianger doesn't seem too bothered, just as Viktor isn't necessarily bothered by the prospect of wandering around somewhere dangerous. The nature of the Horizon is such that he can protect himself when necessary, with anything he can think of. The only limit is his own mind.

Which he considers fairly formidable, thanks very much. Viktor nods at the introduction.

"A scholar, yes. Among other things."

Well, the man seems confident if nothing else. Perhaps he's been there long enough that such things no longer play on his mind any more — unlike Urianger, who is yet to reach a level of familiarity with the Horizon that he finds himself so assured in his mastery of it.

"I confess, I hath not made the guarding of my domain a priority," he replies, "as none save myself and a dear friend hath yet entered."

To my knowledge, Urianger realises, with a slight ripple of unease. Perhaps he should look into some kind of spell to at least alert him when someone is coming or going — especially if he chooses to expand his Horizon in the future. Still, those are thoughts for later, and he gestures to the bench opposite the table he's been using to invite Viktor to make himself comfortable.

"Woudst thou care to sit? I am regularly accused of neglecting myself in favour of study, and thy arrival would surely constitute a reasonable opportunity for a short break."

Viktor is about to make a comment that plenty of people could have been through in Urianger's absence, but the shift in his expression indicates he's coming to that conclusion. What Urianger chooses to do from here is none of Viktor's business--he's more interested in the contents of this library, after all.

"If you're offering," he says, like he doesn't take most opportunities to sit. Viktor uses the Horizon to his advantage, when it comes to ridding himself of his illness and accompanying pain, but he has more complicated feelings about altering his body further than that.

He does, at least, know what it's like to neglect himself in favor of study, and the corner of his mouth quirks upward into a wry smile. "Can I ask what it is you study, exactly?"

Urianger recognises that quirk of the lips as a man who understands, which suggests he may have met another kindred soul in that regard. Something he has always valued about Sharlayan it's academic community — the fact that he rarely needed to explain himself or his work habits to those who live there — and it is a welcome feeling to have found a handful of people who share his outlook on such things here.

"My life's work doth revolve around the study of Divination and such magicks that comprise the fabric of Fate, as well as the application of these magicks for both offensive and defensive purposes."

Urianger takes a seat himself as he offers the brief summary of his work, before taking a moment to concentrate on the provision of a pot of steaming black tea, two cups and saucers, as well as a plate of various small, sweet confections.

"And yourself?"

So, a scholar of magic, rather than one of science though Viktor knows better than most how the lines can blur. The real question, he's come to realize, is how much magic in Urianger's world outright replaces scientific advancement, especially at a level that Viktor might be familiar with. A worthwhile conversation, it seems.

The tea is appreciated--Viktor will help himself, nodding along at Urianger's explanation.

"A physicist." Though of course that explains very little, so he continues. "And an engineer. The bulk of my work involves technological applications of arcane forces."

Urianger pours them each a cup on Viktor's acceptance, and makes sure the sugar and tiny milk jug are within reach should his guest wish to gussy up his tea. There'll be no comment on it if he does: Urianger is in no position to talk, after all, what with his sweet tooth evidenced by the four lumps of sugar he nonchalantly drops into his cup.

"A most worthy field indeed," he replies earnestly, clearly interested in Viktor's area of research. It's the kind of research that would really only have had the opportunity to flourish in Sharlayan; Garlemald's fear of magic was similarly reflected in the rest of Eorzea's fear of their technoloical might, and Urianger has only recently had the opportunity to reflect on such matters in scholarly terms.

The Ragnarok was powered to Ultima Thule on the backs of the Primals, after all, and the Twelve only know how the Loporrits have woven their knowledge of aether into Bestways Burrow.

Thoughts for later. He stirs his tea primly, one leg crossing over the other in a whisper of dark material, before setting the spoon on the saucer with a neat little clink:

"I must confess I know little of engineering, however mine own interest in theories of innovation surrounding the arcane is more than passing. Tell me, hast thou found a suitable focus for thy research here?"

Given the chance, Viktor will also add a frankly worrying amount of sugar to his tea, though if he seems to understand that it’s maybe a little gross, he doesn’t show it. Perhaps he’s just excited about making a new friend (in science, and also in putting too much sugar into one's tea).

“There are academies in Cadens. I've been working there."

Unfortunately, his real work isn't something he's very keen on discussing with a stranger, but the good news is that there's plenty going on otherwise that he'll more openly speak about.

"They practice a kind of magic in the Free Cities that is not so dissimilar to what I'm used to working with. Exploring and improving these applications has been the focus of my research."

Urianger's feelings towards the factions of Abraxas have soured immensely since the dominos began falling in Nocwich. Following the attacks on the delegates the feeling of unrest has swelled within the city walls: the burning of the fields was a first-hands reminder of the pettiness of political squables, and his visitation to Yennefer a reminder of the real dangers of becoming a pawn in the games of others. As such, it's prompted Urianger to take the time to reconsider his long-term plans as one of Thorne's Summoned — or rather, to re-evaluate the risks he'll be placing upon himself.

Of course, re-evaluation doesn't necessarily mean that anything has changed. Urianger knows too well that the best place to be is at the right hand of those you would see fall, and separated as he is from Himeka, he's had to figure out the best way to put his talents towards helping her succeed. Risk or no, he still needs to become an influential figure of Thorn. Risk or no, in order to be closer to those in charge he'll need to prove his worth and insinuate himself into the proper circles.

Much of his time is therefore spent in Castle Thorne, where he makes use of the libraries and reading rooms as he continues his studies into the Arcanum between stints assisting in the infirmary. His thoughts are two-fold: if he can become an authority in the Arcanum among the Summoned then, at the very least, he'll be of worth to his fellow people, which might help to facilitate his presence among more important meetings. With any luck a deeper connection to such powers will make him stand out — highlight his usefulness — and lead to some key introductions.

The rest of his time sees him out on various errands that he hasn't managed to palm off onto Thancred: collecting herbs, examining the wares of the local apothecary, or indeed studying the Abraxian tarot at The Winking Cauldron. Lastly, word might be getting out that there's an Elven-looking man dressed in black and gold who offers healing tinctures (and healing tarot readings?) for a very reasonable price, and anyone who's able to connect the dots back to Urianger is welcome to swing by his place any time!

Edited 2022-10-02 02:18 (UTC)

OPEN — Did no one hear the distant thunder?

HORIZON — OTA

no subject

SO SORRY FOR THE LATE first week of uni term got me good ;;

it's allll good

Fistbumps

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

CITY OF THORNE — OTA