Yup, what's goodie

[clawings]

WHO: Erik Stevens & Y'ALL
WHAT: Checking things out, buying some stuff, reading books, &c
WHEN: ooc: December | ic: Cassus
WHERE: Exploring Kirkwall and the Gallows, &c
NOTES: Erik curses but that's probably gonna be it

→ I got all the sounds, got plenty; open

[ Here are a few places one can find Erik within the Gallows on a regular basis:

The Library: Reading a little bit of everything, actually but focusing on recent history reports, whatever passes for science fiction, books about the Fade, and books about religion. Oh and a book or two on elven culture. Shh.

He's here at all sorts of hours but mostly between 11pm and 5am, apparently not sleeping very well otherwise. Why else be in a library at prime sleeping time?

The Smithy: Erik is fascinated by this area and mostly writes notes about whatever process he's allowed to observe here. Leave his little engineering heart alone about it! (Or don't, actually. Bothering him is preferable to the narration.)

The Herb Garden: Because he's curious if he recognizes any plants from home. Spoilers: he doesn't, but he keeps coming back anyway, usually in the early afternoon.

Training Area: Sparring with swords and spears, because there's no excuse not to stay in shape. Also there's a war on? So. Come gawk at the man. It'll be fun.

Anywhere else: He explores the entire Gallows during his quarantine and then does it again afterward, so consider this an open invitation to wildcard me.
]

→ You should ask around, my city; open

[ Erik discovers the market district in Lowtown and spends an inordinate amount of time there, mostly browsing, but occasionally buying small items. A scarf at one point. Close to the middle of the month he is clearly looking for something specific - jewelry, it would seem. He picks up bracelets, necklaces, earrings, but doesn't seem to settle on anything for a while.

You can also find him in the occasional tavern. He hates drinking alone; join him? ]

→ You should get to work, get busy; closed to athessa & vanadi

[ Erik left a note at Athessa's. Now he just has to wait for them to show up. So he's chilling in the herb garden, again, this time at sunset. ]

Comments

[sulahnan]

[ Athessa is the first to arrive, because Vanadi doesn't share a room with her, actually. So when she got Erik's note, she had to relay the details to Vanadi over the crystal and who knows what route he's taking and from where. But she's here, appropriately dressed for the weather (and still cold, ah well). ]

Is there something significant about the twenty-fifth?

[clawings]

[ Erik has on a blue sweater over his clothes to allow for the chill along with a hand-knit scarf in complimentary greys and blues. He stands as soon as he sees Athessa, smiling at her. ]

Winter solstice. Shortest day of the year. Also something called Christmas, which is a religious holiday.

[sulahnan]

Oh, what's the religious importance?

[ She has the note in hand, because she 100% needs to show Vanadi the drawing. ]

[clawings]

The birth of a worldwide savior some two-thousand years ago that died for our sins. The son of God. [ Erik rolls his eyes. ] Ain't my faith and they stole the date from people that predate them.

[sulahnan]

[ Athessa scoffs. ]

Sounds familiar.

But if it's not your faith, then...?

[ plz explain commercialism and marketing ploys to her, Erik, explain the true meaning of crimmus ]

tavern

[lettenhove]

[ jaskier, not knowing what else to do with his time, has taken to playing at taverns, hoping to make some coin with his songs. so far, it's only sort-of successful. it's hard to sell songs about a witcher when no one's heard of what a witcher is. he's had to reframe several ballads to make them more appealing and so far, it's just not working like he'd hoped. his muse is in a different world and he needs a new one. so far, his discrete searching has not turned up much.

right about now, he's finishing his set when he spots a rugged man in the corner. perhaps inspiration has finally found him? would this man make a good muse? there's only one way to find out. he approaches slowly, snagging a cup from a passing waitress and invites himself to sit at the man's table. ]

I like how you seem ominous just settled in this corner. Has lady love betrayed you or are you drinking for another reason?

[clawings]

Sometimes it be's like that, [ the man says, his diction unique enough that Jaskier could likely recognize him by voice alone. But Erik gestures to the bench across from him at the table. He'd been listening to Jaskier sing, trying to absorb this old/new method of storytelling. ]

I'm just drinking to kill time, honestly. What's your poison?

[lettenhove]

[ jaskier is clever enough to note changes in tone and inflection because it comes with being such an excellent musician, but that doesn't mean he can tell this is the man he spoke with over the crystal. it's not even on his mind as he lifts his drink to his lips, taking a pull, and then making a face. ]

Absolute shit, apparently. But I've come to expect it from this place.

[ he gives a slight jerk of his head towards the shard in his hand before checking to see if the stranger has one too. ]

I haven't even been able to find a good, bloody wine.

[clawings]

Wine here is very...hit or miss.

[ Erik shrugs a little. It's not strong and it's not good, but he can work with it, as evidenced by the drink he pulls. This man, this bard he's presuming, is also from Riftwatch or at least lives in the Gallows. ]

How long you been here? You got a name?

[lettenhove]

Everything here is very hit or miss.

[ look at this guy, whining all the time. yes, he is a bit of a privileged punk, but he gulps another swallow of the booze anyway. and then another, before squinting a bit at erik. ]

Sure, I got a name. I've been here, oh, a month or so. I'm pretty famous, you know?

training yard / lightening stuff.

[tender]

[ There is a training target set some distance away, at the very edge of the yard. Derrica has brought her staff with her today, uses the heavy, weighted focus to point out her mark. ]

I don't think it's going to be as impressive as it sounds, [ she cautions, glancing up at Erik. ] But I can hit it from here with a lightening strike.

[ A comfortable distance away from the people practicing with more traditional weapons in the ring behind the. ]

[clawings]

[ Erik is standing off to the side and somewhat behind her, trying to make sure he's not in the way, but when Derrica speaks Erik moves so that he's within her line of sight. ]

If you make it light up like a handheld sparkler, I'd be impressed. [ He gives a slight shrug. ] What I mean is, I'll be impressed by most anything, so.

[tender]

You shouldn't say that, you'll just encourage us to show off for you.

[ Us stretching beyond Derrica, who is largely unassuming and prefers to stay that way. But she thinks often of what Marcus Rowntree had mentioned to her once, how demonstrations of power come easier from her than they might from someone like him.

Her head tips, a little smile directed at him. Erik's positioned himself out of the way without being asked, a point in his favor.

The air is cold, dry. Derrica draws in a deep breath as her grip flexes at the handle of her staff. The focus glows purple, brightens as she lifts and brings the butt of her stave down hard against the stone. An answering crack of power splits across the sky, and a bolt of lightening obliterates the target.

She gives a little, abashed shrug of a shoulder. That's the show. ]

[clawings]

Well, shit, [ Erik murmurs, because that? Fucking impressive, especially since he's never seen anything up close like it.

He kept count of how long it took her to cast in his head, from the focus growing purple (badasss) to when the target went poof and wonders if that's a problem on the battlefield. ]

Do you usually have someone to stop you from getting hammered while you cast that?

[tender]

Sometimes.

[ Thinking about Nascere, the Commander holding off demons while she tried to get Isaac up. Her grip flexes on the stave. ]

It helps if I do, but I can handle myself a little better than most. If I have to do something other than cast, I'm alright.

[ Or at least, not immediately dead. ]

We try, [ is what she amends. ] But you know how a fight can go.

At the market

[muckspout]

Edgard, perpetually unwashed and unshaven, has been wandering around the market for quite some time. At each table, he looks at the items closely, shakes his head, and then moves on. He is concentrating so hard on this that he bumps headlong into a man also studying the tables. Edgard barks a laugh and holds out his hands.

"Sorry, didn't see you there." He starts to move along and then--"You haven't seen a serving tray being sold anywhere, have you?"

[clawings]

A rather dirty man bumps into him and Erik takes a breath not to get too bent out of shape about it; these things happen, after all, and apparently not everyone takes advantage of the baths in the Gallows. But this man might not even be with the Riftwatch, for all he knows.

"It's cool, don't worry about it." Blink. "What kinda serving tray?"

[muckspout]

"A shiny one. Fancy, not like rich people fancy, but like only for special occasions. Could see my face in it."

He leans in, lowering his voice,

"I gave it to my friend who sold it to someone, but I need it back. So, I figured--market in Lowtown is a good place to start."

[clawings]

Well that gives him something to work with. "Does it have any, like, patterns or whatnot on it?"

Erik raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. "Some friend, to sell your stuff." But, come on, new acquaintance. Erik has decided he'll help with this small quest, and his first goal to accomplishing this task is to figure out which of these vendors is most likely to have a 'fancy but not rich people fancy' serving tray. He gestures in a direction. "Wanna head this way?"

[muckspout]

Edgard frowns thoughtfully.

"I think it had some sort of-" He waves his hand. "-on either end. A leaf?" He follows Eric in the direction he gestured, still looking at the tables. The next one is selling food, he looks forward to see what is up ahead.

"I gave it to her as a gift actually. Makes sense that she sold it. But, either way gotta get it back."

athessa | horseback riding

[clawings]

[ It probably shouldn't have taken Erik this long to ask for help.

But, hey, he's a resourceful guy. He'd figured that he could manage this one on his own, except being thrown from a horse is no joke and he has very little idea of just what he's doing. Horses are farm animals, back home, and while he's spent time on farms in other countries it was usually in while dressed in fatigues and armed with at least a rifle.

Which didn't leave much time for learning about horses. ]

Don't laugh at me, [ he starts, a little defensive, before puffing up his cheeks and blowing air out into the cold morning. ] Much. If you can help it.

[ He doesn't even know how to prepare the horse for this exercise, equipment-wise or otherwise. Talk to him like he's twelve, Athessa. ]

[sulahnan]

[ Athessa smiles broadly and shakes her head. ]

I can tell ya right now I can't keep that promise. [ She laughs too much to even lie about that. ] But I won't think less of you.

[ A beat. Experimentally: ] I'll be laughing with you?

[clawings]

A'ight, a'ight. [ He nods; he can handle that, he thinks. ] As long as it's with me and you don't think I'm stupid just because I don't know shit about horses.

So. What do I do first? Other than keep my fingers away from those teeth, damn.

[sulahnan]

Pffft you're more likely to get bitten by me than this lady, [ Athessa, self fulfilling prophecy, laughs softly and pats the horse on the neck affectionately.
]

But first thing you wanna do is introduce yourself and let her smell your breath.

[ Yes, actually, she does know how weird that sounds. ]

[clawings]

I...what?

[ A blink, but clearly she's not joking so he's going to just... swallow, give him a second, before walking towards the horse's face. ]

A'ight. I'm Erik. Most days. Today. [ Clearing his throat. ] I gotta, like, breathe on her?