apocalypsehowcomm | Log: The Point of No Return

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Log: The Point of No Return

Who: Jaskier and YOU
When: March 14ish and beyond
Where: ADI Building + Flophouse
Summary: Jaskier arrives to - not as much fanfare as he generally hopes to arrive to, but one can't have everything.
Warnings: tw for mentions of graphic violence in Caduceus' thread.

Arrival - OTA/ADI Headquarters
Jaskier arrives in a janitor's closet. It takes a bit of doing for him to get himself out of it - mostly by his elbow catching on the lever-style door handle and him falling backwards out of it. His bottle of liquor is a nice thick glass, though, and does not break, and that's really what matters most to him at the moment.

He still gives a few pointed curses. He's covered in bruises from that last fight and being shoved under a table like four times. At least two times too excessive, he feels. Jaskier uncorks the bottle and takes a long pull from it, giving a small cough as he re-caps it to make sure nothing is lost. Merciful Melitele that shit burns terribly. He's pretty sure some of the witchers have to clean their swords with it.

Does the job, though.

"Hello-? Geralt?" Jaskier calls as he wanders. This really doesn't look like Kaer Morhen, but he's hardly had time to explore the whole of the Keep. "... Geralt's - uh, brothers?" Jaskier calls next, followed by "Child Surprise?" and then finishing it off with an utterly exasperated "Yennefer?"

He'll take anyone.

Arrival (Reprise) - OTA/Bonnie's Flophouse
It's well into full dark by the time Jaskier gets let go after being taken to their doctors to see to his injuries (just bruises and scrapes he's fine he's had worse - what's a 'concussion'?) given the runaround (fear drinking entities that wish harm upon the world, got it, same shit different day) and a crash course in what a phone is (... that too most of the time and even then Jaskier thinks it was more 'good enough' than certainty he understood). He takes one look at the rules for the barracks before opting for the flophouse instead, with a comment aside about a curfew and not being some noble maiden needing to protect her chastity. He'll take the indentured servitude over being treated like a bloody child, especially if he's being trusted enough to assist in stopping an apocalypse.

He's still grumbling about it when he's dropped off at the flophouse, bag made of a weirdly slick feeling but not wet fabric slung over one shoulder stuffed with what they called some essentials. He's really curious as to what they think are essentials given nobody gave him an instrument. Now he just has to find his room… well, he can either ask the first person he sees or just find a door and take his chances.

A Search For Knowledge - OTA/ADI Headquarters
A full night's sleep and a chance to recover from a mild hangover and Jaskier is feeling much better, far more up to being a curious little bird. First things first.

"Hello- yes, I was told there was a library here? You wouldn't happen to know where it is, would you?"

Look, he was told the only people in this building are ones who have business here, he's just assuming whoever he asks will know or will be able to point him to someone who does know.

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(continued from TDM)

"If you truly think someone can't be both that's just more certainty for me you've clearly never met her," Jaskier says with no small amount of distaste.

He's actually come to appreciate Yennefer quite a bit as of late, but it's one of those maybe-friendships that exists only by mutual lack of acknowledgement of it on both their parts.

"Alright, so- Gated to some strange new Continent, maybe where the Deathless Mother herself was from given the similar operating styles, toooo what? Spread pain and misery on their behalf? I understand you said someone is going to give a proper orientation but give me the short version so I can prepare myself if you'd be so kind?"

"Clearly." Just a tiny bit mocking, because that's sort of his default state, and he isn't about to stop being a shithead just 'cause he can't instantly bail on any situation. One day he'll learn the hard way that people might take some issue with being purposefully annoyed, but he isn't there yet.

He gives Jaskier's summary a quick mental review, before shrugging. "That's about the gist of it. You're on a planet called Earth, country called America, it's awful, avoid the bread." It's so sweet. Bread shouldn't be sweet. "The fear things, they call 'em Entities and they're trying to end the world. We're at ADI headquarters, they're a bunch of idiots trying to stop the apocalypse, mostly by sending us to do their dirty work, seems like."

Bold words for someone who has mostly stayed safely at headquarters after he got his ass kicked one (1) whole time.

Jaskier won't be the one to teach him that lesson, he's do adept at aggressively ignoring people's attempts to get under his skin unless they're done in very specific circumstances.

He puts his hands on his hips, listens to Crowley's rundown of the situation, nodding a bit as he takes it in. He's not sure how much help he can be to stopping an apocalypse, but it wouldn't be the first time he's gotten in over his head because the call came when he was standing nearby enough to jump to it.

"... What's wrong with the bread?"

How could you fuck up bread?

Crowley, immediately: I have to introduce this man to Aziraphale if his first priority was the request clarification on the bread situation.

"They've put sugar in it. And it's not even proper sugar, but it ruins the whole bread." Not that he's actually eaten all that much bread in his existence, but he's had enough to know that it shouldn't be sweet except in very specific circumstances.

Not that the bread situation is the most pressing concern. "C'mon, why I don't I walk you to orientation. They'll do a much better job of explaining all the nonsense."

Look, the rest he MOSTLY gets, or at least is accepting that it's something he probably won't get until he has more hands-on time with it. Bread? Bread requires clarification. He's about to ask what proper sugar even means - sweet bread is just fine isn't it? - but Crowley moves on and Jaskier figures it probably isn't worth splitting hairs over. Probably.

It's gonna bug him, though. He's gotta figure out what's up with that.

"I would greatly appreciate the directional assistance- I'm called Jaskier, what shall I call you new friend?"

Once Jaskier has eaten American bread then he will understand; it's beyond anyone's ability to properly explain how truly terrible it is when bread has corn syrup in it. For now, he's going to have to live with the mystery, a Crowley gestures to the right, before starting down that way.

"Anthony." Weird to be referred to as a friend, but some people are like that. "Is there a lot of magic, where you're from? Or is it just a few witches and their nonsense?"

There's a point to the question; a world where magic is common is more likely to rely on it, instead of develop technology to make life easier, so the answer will give him an idea of what level of advancement Jaskier might be working with.

Mysteries of bread set aside for the moment (but they will indeed bother Jaskier who will be having the bread at the first opportunity, maybe yelling 'for science' if anyone looks at him funny during it) Jaskier does indeed proceed to just act like he's already friends with Crowley. It's one of the easier ways to make friends, in Jaskier's experience. Just act like you already are and it all catches up.

Or they try to hit him. One of the two, but the odds are often better off for friendship.

"Pleasure to meet you Anthony," he says easily. "And that is the question isn't it? I can't make a terribly good assessment for you though unless I know where you're coming from. From where I stand- well, stood, in Kaedwen - I would say we have a moderate to low amount of 'magic' overall as there used to be far more of it on the Continent and it's been steadily fading over the ages. We'd probably seem utterly mundane to those that lived in the same place even five hundred years ago. On the other hand, you don't seem bothered about witches and Gates even if you have different names for them, so- an average amount? Let's see - if you display magical promise and you don't have anywhere else to go there's schools to teach magic across the Continent. Graduates of the school frequently go on to become advisors to rulers of the land though it's not uncommon for some to strike out on their own. You can find a witch in most medium sized towns doing business legitimately or illegitimately. Or at least someone who claims to be a witch selling potions or charms."

He gives Crowly a searching look as he explains this, seeing if it rings any bells or can be used as a reference.

For not being able to make a terribly good assessment, what Jaskier does explain gives Crowley a fairly good idea of what they're working with here, especially the mention of schools for magic, and the fact that witches can be political advisors.

And Crowley listens carefully, waiting for him to finish, because God didn't raise someone with no manners. "Right, well, you'll be in for a bit of a shock here." Understatement of the century, maybe, but now he has to decide exactly how much he wants to reveal about himself. Maybe that can come later.

"Inside the ADI it'll be fine, but the normal people going about their lives in the rest of the world don't really believe in magic, not that sort of magic." Religion is a different kettle of fish entirely. "Talking about witches will likely have them thinking you've lost your marbles. Humans killed most of their witches a few centuries back, the ones around these days know better than to talk about it."

Jaskier's eyebrows raise significantly at that information before furrowing a bit.

"That is ... interesting. There are some places where magic is not as thought kindly of as others, which is ironic given who did the major push against witchers in public opinion if certain records are to be believed but the point is I'm not wholly unfamiliar with the need to keep quiet regarding such things. Consider the secret kept."

It's caught his interest enough that he'd really like to look more into it though, if that curious gleam in his eyes is any indication.

"Smart lad." Bold of him to call a grown man lad, but in his defense he's ridiculously old and most people are young in comparison. He is being genuine, at least, even if it may come across as slightly condescending.

That's just what he's like, it's inevitable.

"You'll want to get yourself some clothes that won't make you stick out like a sore thumb, too. They give us a bit of money for that, s'about the least they can do." He's not sure if the ADI are actually responsible for bringing them here, or if they're just so incompetent they haven't figured out how to stop it happening, but either way. He's used to a certain level of luxury that really isn't an option anymore and he's a big baby about it.

(continued from TDM)

Jaskier manages a slightly bitter laugh at being told to calm down, but stops short of asking when in the history of telling people to calm down has that ever calmed anyone down? Caduceus is, grudgingly, not really wrong. Jaskier takes a few more deep breaths and tries to steady his own rapid heartbeat. Being in countless life or death situations is a horse of a different color entirely from - from dying.

"He wasn't from around here, I don't think. His manner of dress was more from where I came from than what locals here wear. But - He was trying to escape - it was a ghoul. It looked like a ghoul," Jaskier explains, brief certainty of what it was that made the corpse easing up as he remembers that things aren't exactly the same as his home here, even if those contexts are the easiest to place things in. He's trembling, trying to talk his way through it, like if he gets it out it'll leave him too. "Just, terrible. It - it was like it wanted him to know it was coming. He took at least an hour to die as it ate him alive."

"What does a ghoul look like like?" he asks, curious but also wanting to understand fully the cause of death. Or, perhaps, he is interested in Jaskier reliving it more before they finish here.

Eaten alive. Caduceus peers back at where the corpse was and he considers what he's been told. A predatory apparently thriving on its prey's fear, or simply confident enough that it wouldn't matter if the prey knew it was there or not. Not an ambush or stealth hunter. And not a patient one, either.

"Keep talking," he says as he offers Jaskier the flashlight. "And hold this so I can see if there are tracks."

"It looks like a fucking ghoul!"

Okay, that was unnecessary and even Jaskier realizes that as soon as he snaps, but gods. Deep breaths, deep breaths. "-Tall, taller than a man and thinner than a living one could ever be. Pale but with - dark patches at extremities, like a body that's been left to frost."

Because everyone knows what that looks like right.

"It's whole mouth was just... black, like dried blood. It... I don't know if it had eyes and they were just black too or if there was nothing there at all. Wait, no - I know what all black eyes look like, that wasn't it. So, nothing there. It could still see well enough."

As distressed as the question had prompted him to be, being made to describe something, to stop and search his extensive vocabulary for the words actually does help calm Jaskier down. Though he takes the flashlight easy enough and braces it with both hands against a knee to keep it from shaking, his alarmed follow up of "-Tracks? As in it might still be here?" undoes some of that calm.

He listens closely, sifting through memories, but he doesn't think he's seen anything quite like that before. Not exactly like it. It sounds like something that should be an abomination, or something that doesn't fit into the natural order here. Maybe not where Jaskier comes from, either.

Caduceus looks at Jaskier as the light passes over his face and he blinks; for a moment, his eyes are entirely black. He blinks again and they seem to be back to normal.

"It could be. There's some weird things here." Caduceus pauses after he says that. "Hm. Maybe not weird, but things I haven't seen before."

And kind of weird.

(From TDM thread!)

Jaskier gives his own bit of flail, bringing his arms up to guard himself against another incoming hit with purpose. She can't see him, that much is clear from the way her eyes don't focus on him (but do focus, so she isn't blind) but if she lands a hit it won't be a pleasant time for him.

"I'm- not! I'm Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, master of the seven liberal arts, bard of great renown!" Okay yes he's just spewing out everything that comes to mind as a distraction. Whatever illusion that has caught this woman is clearly a strong one, but he didn't get where he was by sitting around wishing he had a witcher or a sorceress to help him. He doesn't, so moving on.

The excess of titles does give her pause. That's... a great deal of information to try to process. Which seven liberal arts? Where is Lettenhove? That is a fancy name. It's incongruous enough with her impression of avatars thus far that she just... sits with that information for a moment.

"If-if you're a bard, then prove it! Recite or sing something!"

Jaskier briefly spares a glance to his own empty hands, annoyed that whatever brought him here has not seen fit to provide him with an instrument. He really, really needs to get himself another lute. But, fine. A quick rifle through his own catalog of songs completed and worked on and he settles on the first that doesn't sound jarringly incomplete without said lute to his own ears. Yes he is trying to prove himself here but he's still an artist and allowing something sub-par through would defeat the purpose of proving himself.

Attempting to reason with her will have to serve as a good enough warm up for his voice.

"The fairer sex, they often call it
But her love's as unfair as a crook
It steals all my reason
Commits every treason
Of logic, with naught but a look-"

The world... begins to come back into focus. The walls expand and Mercy can breathe as the music winds around her. It's sweet, moving, tragic, and it doesn't make her feel strangely wild and lost as Jeff's music had. It grounds her, instead of making her thoughts spiral away in uncontrolled pinwheels.

Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes finally land on the man singing as the last note carries. "Oh... You sing real pretty, sir! But it sounds like someone hurt you something awful. What... I don't..." She looks around. "It was all wrong. The walls was closing in. I don't understand."

The sincere praise for his music followed so quickly by that shot right to the heart of it leave Jaskier briefly unmoored. He wasn't even certain she'd be able to listen to the whole thing in the first place, he hadn't given much thought to what she would take away from it.

Broken hearts do some of the best work, it's true.

"Well… it was some time ago. Come on then let's - out of the room in case it was the room-" he suggests, making sure she can see him coming and does not take a swing at him before he takes her hand to gently tug her towards leaving the room. Honestly maybe outside would be good right now.

She lets him lead her, gaze darting ever which way as she struggles to pull her mind from the terrified pit it's fallen into. "That shouldn't've happened, sir. I- Oh! Oh, Brother, I hit you!" And if she'd meant to do that, it would be fine, but as it stands. "Are you okay? Papa always said I had a mean shovel-arm."

Her brother, Colm, had also noted this... usually when they were fighting as children, and she was thrashing him with it.

"Your Papa had quite the right of it," Jaskier says conversationally, like they aren't talking about him being hit in the face as he leads Mercy from the room, heading towards the outside. "Don't worry though it's hardly the first time I've been struck - hardly the first time I've been struck this week."

Hardly the first time he's been hit since he got here.

"Oh, Brother... are more folk getting turned around like me?" That's the only reason she can immediately think why this man would be getting punched repeatedly. "There's something messing with our heads something terrible here. You ain't seen nothing suspicious, have you?"

There's just so much to keep track of right now. The world is growing nigh oppressive in the sheer volume of things that just keep piling on. One more thing, and she thinks people might start to break.

(from TDM)

Jaskier has gotten the rundown on how a phone works, but it came with a lot of other information too, alright. He knows enough to not break it by accident at least, but the rest is more going to take using it to get a better idea of how it's done that he can actually remember.

"It's like it's glass," Jaskier says, delighted, as he holds the phone carefully, not at all like how someone who has used one often would, but he doesn't put his fingers in front of the camera and he doesn't touch the screen so that's two for two for good enough. He makes sure Misty stays in the view of the glass, periodically glancing between it and her to make sure it doesn't show something that isn't actually happening or the other way around.

"Just- be carefu- oh shit-"

"Y-yeah, um-- keep filming--!"

She says breathlessly, stumbling back away from the ash pile, only just barely succeeding from landing flat on her ass. It takes a lot to seriously rattle Misty, but this does the trick.

But the excited mystery-solver is still in there, so there's a thread of exhilaration in her voice as she turns to speak directly to the camera.

"I know exactly how he died. I don't know who did it, or, um, the motive, or anything like that, but he was stabbed multiple times in the stomach and left to bleed out. And that, uh, took a while."

He'd been certain the footsteps approaching him were intended past him on their way to whatever business they had, but instead they stop and Garner turns towards the source of the voice, sightless eyes angled down, but his expression curious.

"Oh. Actually...I do." The one benefit of being largely confined to the ADI building for the first month of his being here: he knew roughly were most things were.

He gestures for the man to follow him and turns to lead them in the right direction. "Are you new here, then?"

Coming from a magical world and all, Jaskier has likely heard of at least a few ways those without an ability can use magic to supplement it, so the idea that someone blind wouldn't have business with a library enough to know where it is doesn't remotely occur to him.

And he's right, so bully for him?

"Wonderful, thank you kind sir," Jaskier says cheerfully, following where Garner leads. "I am - a day, two? I had to spend a lot of time getting 'orientation' and was perhaps not entirely sober upon arrival so I'm not completely clear."

Garner smiles to himself for the explanation. "I can imagine your disappointment, then, to realize this was not a dream born of ale. The orientation bit was helpful at least if, like me, the basic idea of electricity lighting rooms was a new concept." Not that the electricity did much for him, but the thought was fascinating.

"My name is Garner, by the way. Before I neglect my manners further."

Manners! Quite important indeed.

"Ah! And I am Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, but most just call me Jaskier," he explains cheerfully as they walk, barely pausing to breathe as he speaks. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Garner. Especially since I was rather in the same boat regarding the whole 'electricity' thing. Somewhat alarming but quite fascinating."

Ah. Nobility. The long name would surely tip him off if the term 'viscount' hadn't. Interesting, but 'Jaskier' worked just fine.

A picture begins to form in his mind: a man, tall, long of limb, young, fine features...used to singing or talking quite a bit of his lung control was any indication. It was something to work with.

"I understand it can illuminate a room instantly, as well as powers many of the objects around us and heats the water. Out of curiosity, is yours a world of magic as well? It seems to be split between the people I've met."

"It is! Magic and monsters alike, in fact right before arriving I was assisting a friend in defeating an entity from beyond our continent that fed off despair and took possession of his child."

So yeah, the whole entities thing was the easiest part for Jaskier to pick up upon arrival. He gestures rather emphatically as he walks and talks, even if Garner can't see it.

"-Though I've been warned to keep mum about that around those outside of ADI since the general population of this world doesn't believe in it."

"Ah...well, I hope your friend will be okay now that you're here." That had been his greatest concern when he realized he'd been brought here, where had he left his friends just before? Luckily, the streets of Emon were not so deadly that they wouldn't be able to navigate without him.

The comment about those outside ADI has him perking up even more as he turns his face in Jaskier's direction, though still not looking quite at him. "They don't, there's no magic to be had here, apart from the entities they don't see exist and what we bring with us. I only just found out after being here two months that there are only humans around here. It's...odd to think about."

He turns his face back towards the hall and gestures to the end of it that they were nearing. "A right up here and you'll be able to see it, I think. It has large windows into the hall."

The thing about Bonnie's is that at the moment, it's pretty empty. There's a number of rooms that look like they have been used, but are currently devoid of any personal effects- not to mention, well, people. With Jeff out and about most of the time, the Flophouse is typically Caduceus (who Jaskier has met) and then, well... the other member of his party.

As soon as he walks in, there's a woman sprawled out on the couch in the common area, feet kicked up on one arm and taking up pretty much the entire thing. She's got baggy pants that tie at her ankles and a tank top, a journal across her stomach and something to write with in her hand. She tilts her head up as he enters, raising an eyebrow as she looks him over.

"Uh. Hey. Who're you?" It's been a while since they had a newbie, Jaskier. Beau's not covinced anyone else was going to turn up for a while. "Did you get lost or are you from ADI?"

Someone to ask questions of right away, excellent.

"Yes, ADI was what they called themselves I believe, strange building, apocalypse stopping, that whole ordeal?"

Yeah, he didn't give much thought to maintaining some pact of silence, so it's good he's currently mostly stuck in places where he doesn't have to. He can keep a secret, he just needs some good rest and to get his sea legs under him first. Proverbial sea legs.

He holds out his hand to Beau, undeterred.

"Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, call me Jaskier. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Oh, he's one of those guys that immediately starts talking at top speed, got it. Beau raises her eyebrows for a moment as she gets her bearings with all of those words, and she takes a few seconds to look at his hand before she shuffles herself over to shake it.

"That's a hell of a name. Call me Beau." She's not about to give her 27 fancy titles, as it were, mostly because she thinks they're dumb. "So you just tumbled out of the sky and they gave you directions to a random building to go live in it and you said... yeah, that's cool? You could've died, dude."

Great. Great introduction. They are becoming friends.

Fancy titles - they can be a help or a hinderance depending on who you are and who you're talking to. They usually either help or don't do shit for Jaskier, so he's got no problem rattling them off on the semi-regular.

"Hardly the first time this week - if I let myself get stopped every time that happened I'd never do anything," Jaskier says with a little shrug. "Though that's not quite right I disagreed with the first building choice - too many rules."

Hey, play the cards you have, right? At least he's upfront about his decisions, which gives Beau a bit of a pause to grin juuust slightly.

"Oh, so you're not just some rich kid then. You've seen some shit." Because that kind of logic comes with confidence-- or at least experience. "They're watching everyone in there all the time, for sure. At least here they don't have charms or whatever marking when we shit." Or at least, she hasn't found them, and it's been a few months. "There's not a lot of rules here. Just common sense stuff, like if you're playing weird music at 3 in the morning loud enough to shake the foundation I'm gonna come break your lute over your head. Sound good?"

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Log: The Point of No Return

For @demonicmiracle

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i may be projecting

I'll allow it.

thank u for understanding

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for @thatsreallygreat (tw violence)

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for @graveyounglady

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for @citizendetective

gdit missed this tag

A Search for Knowledge

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bonnies! :v

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