Julian "Jaskier" Alfred Pankratz (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
borntobebard) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2020-01-08 07:03 pm
borntobebard) wrote in maskormenacelogs2020-01-08 07:03 pm
open | We venture through time blind
WHO: Jaskier
WHERE: All over
WHEN: Throughout early and mid Jan (pre-2020 plot)
WHAT: An open log of boy toy bard from a far away land who decides to adapt and overcome, or maybe just go cry in a corner
WARNINGS: Maybe some rudey words...
i. heropa; new bard on the block
[ It had barely been half a minute since the poor bard had been handed his information pack and communicator, given back his lute, and shoved out into the warm winter day of Heropa to fend for himself. There's a few odd stares spared for the fellow in a fetching red ensemble and knee high boots, but for the most part the locals leave him to it, a little too used to seeing the weird and wonderful characters that come through the Porter each month.
His eyes lift skyward for a moment, observing the unfamiliar streaks of contrails amongst the striking blue, before they slip shut and he stutters out a sigh. Composing himself before a big performance, that's all this is. Just another step towards a brand new adventure, out into the great, wide world and... almost straight into the path of a car that swiftly blares it's horn in passing.
With a soft squeak he scutters off down the sidewalk, staying on the path like every normal person should because those carriages sure are fast. Throughout the afternoon he can be found drifting, curious and clueless as he peers into stores, vigorously questions street vendors, homeless folk and just about anyone he can corner, and gives baffled stares at the shop fronts adorned with gadgetry and bright lights.
He is most definitely a fish out of water. ]
ii. everywhere; song requests!
[ Location doesn't matter all that much to a travelling bard, especially one who has plenty of new towns to explore. He may not be quite over the shell shock of it all, but he perseveres as best as one can. He's travelled to far away lands before, seen mages and monsters, dragons and devils, met Witchers and witches... this? This is no different, he just needs the tether that's always kept him going; music. Throughout the first weeks of the month he can be found dotted around the different towns, in cafes, bars, parks and anywhere with a perching spot, picking softly at his lute, notepad and pen in lap. He mumbles out words at seemingly random, hums and strums chords, and slowly drags out sentences as the creative process takes shape. ]
... endure and withstand amidst a far away land,
where perception overwhelmed, I stand powerless at the helm,
wrecked betwixt reverence and wonder...
[ A moment of quiet contemplation, and then without much regard decides aloud: ] Nah, that's shit.
[ Other times, when he's not savagely scribbling out his own work, he'll be found busking around towns in front of crowds of various sizes, revelling in the attention as he plays stripped down, exceptionally acoustic versions of various songs, feet stamping and crowd clapping providing his percussion. Another song finished, he loudly proclaims to anyone that catches his eye: ]
A request! What do you wish to hear? Anything at all!
[Literally anything. It would appear this bard knows every song the crowd has thrown at him so far, lyrically and musically. ]
iii. maurtia falls; working hard or hardly working
[ Mob Tours, they'd told him. That's where he'd have to show up for his first week of work, tasked with keeping well paying tourists and locals enraptured with tales of gruesome murders and bloody feuds. He wasn't exactly sure what a mob tour was exactly, but when given a script to learn he was happy to oblige, studying like any professional actor should, and acing every damn performance he showed up to.
The 'uniform' was a little unusual by his expectations, but most would easily recognise the mob reference in getting their tour guides to wear 1920's inspired pinstripe suits. Not quite his familiar peacock standard of wear, but with the added blood red pocket square and two tone shoes, he at least felt dapper enough to ooze the usual confidence.
He also now blended in far better with some of the more choice bars around town, slipping into the high end cocktail bars at the end of work to rub shoulders with some of the rich and powerful. Jaskier was at least tolerated in some of the circles for now, innocent as he was in cheerfully chatting to anyone who'd listen. ]
You know, I think I could get used to a world such as this.
[ Decided dreamily as he cradled a strong whiskey sour, sucking at the peel of his orange slice. ] I feel truly pampered. Like a Lord amongst his devoted serfs.
iv; wildcard!
[ Make up something new! Give me a poke if there's any starters you fancy. ]
WHERE: All over
WHEN: Throughout early and mid Jan (pre-2020 plot)
WHAT: An open log of boy toy bard from a far away land who decides to adapt and overcome, or maybe just go cry in a corner
WARNINGS: Maybe some rudey words...
i. heropa; new bard on the block
[ It had barely been half a minute since the poor bard had been handed his information pack and communicator, given back his lute, and shoved out into the warm winter day of Heropa to fend for himself. There's a few odd stares spared for the fellow in a fetching red ensemble and knee high boots, but for the most part the locals leave him to it, a little too used to seeing the weird and wonderful characters that come through the Porter each month.
His eyes lift skyward for a moment, observing the unfamiliar streaks of contrails amongst the striking blue, before they slip shut and he stutters out a sigh. Composing himself before a big performance, that's all this is. Just another step towards a brand new adventure, out into the great, wide world and... almost straight into the path of a car that swiftly blares it's horn in passing.
With a soft squeak he scutters off down the sidewalk, staying on the path like every normal person should because those carriages sure are fast. Throughout the afternoon he can be found drifting, curious and clueless as he peers into stores, vigorously questions street vendors, homeless folk and just about anyone he can corner, and gives baffled stares at the shop fronts adorned with gadgetry and bright lights.
He is most definitely a fish out of water. ]
ii. everywhere; song requests!
[ Location doesn't matter all that much to a travelling bard, especially one who has plenty of new towns to explore. He may not be quite over the shell shock of it all, but he perseveres as best as one can. He's travelled to far away lands before, seen mages and monsters, dragons and devils, met Witchers and witches... this? This is no different, he just needs the tether that's always kept him going; music. Throughout the first weeks of the month he can be found dotted around the different towns, in cafes, bars, parks and anywhere with a perching spot, picking softly at his lute, notepad and pen in lap. He mumbles out words at seemingly random, hums and strums chords, and slowly drags out sentences as the creative process takes shape. ]
... endure and withstand amidst a far away land,
where perception overwhelmed, I stand powerless at the helm,
wrecked betwixt reverence and wonder...
[ A moment of quiet contemplation, and then without much regard decides aloud: ] Nah, that's shit.
[ Other times, when he's not savagely scribbling out his own work, he'll be found busking around towns in front of crowds of various sizes, revelling in the attention as he plays stripped down, exceptionally acoustic versions of various songs, feet stamping and crowd clapping providing his percussion. Another song finished, he loudly proclaims to anyone that catches his eye: ]
A request! What do you wish to hear? Anything at all!
[Literally anything. It would appear this bard knows every song the crowd has thrown at him so far, lyrically and musically. ]
iii. maurtia falls; working hard or hardly working
[ Mob Tours, they'd told him. That's where he'd have to show up for his first week of work, tasked with keeping well paying tourists and locals enraptured with tales of gruesome murders and bloody feuds. He wasn't exactly sure what a mob tour was exactly, but when given a script to learn he was happy to oblige, studying like any professional actor should, and acing every damn performance he showed up to.
The 'uniform' was a little unusual by his expectations, but most would easily recognise the mob reference in getting their tour guides to wear 1920's inspired pinstripe suits. Not quite his familiar peacock standard of wear, but with the added blood red pocket square and two tone shoes, he at least felt dapper enough to ooze the usual confidence.
He also now blended in far better with some of the more choice bars around town, slipping into the high end cocktail bars at the end of work to rub shoulders with some of the rich and powerful. Jaskier was at least tolerated in some of the circles for now, innocent as he was in cheerfully chatting to anyone who'd listen. ]
You know, I think I could get used to a world such as this.
[ Decided dreamily as he cradled a strong whiskey sour, sucking at the peel of his orange slice. ] I feel truly pampered. Like a Lord amongst his devoted serfs.
iv; wildcard!
[ Make up something new! Give me a poke if there's any starters you fancy. ]
maurtia falls
She first comes across Jaskier -- after their initial meeting of course -- while he's going about a tour. She does her best to remain hidden and listens in on his performance. He'd called himself a humble bard and he'd certainly had a way with words. And this? Well, he could certainly have been saddled with a worse job. At least he's getting to use his talents. She doesn't stick around for the entire tour, however, she has better things to do. Those things involve hitting up some bars and seeing how much hustling she can do.
A fancier bar is her last stop for the evening as Jaskier isn't the only one with the mind to schmooze up to some of the wealthier folks in the city. She's dressed better now than she'd been the rest of the day with a little black dress, more natural make-up, and a blonde wig.
She slips up to the bar and orders a drink, not realizing she's right next to him until he speaks. ]
Is that so? [ The accent she's adopted for the evening could be mistaken for French. She wonders how long it'll take before he recognizes her. ]
no subject
Mm, it's not always been like this for me, you know? I may strike the impression of well to do local, but I come from afar. A different time, a different world, where one could barely comprehend the idea of a good bath, let alone the sheer quantity of contraptions this place has to offer.
[ He's spearing the cherry in his drink now and nibbling on that. ]
no subject
You are one of the imPorts? [ The accent persists, feigned interest. ] Do you have a -- what is they call themselves -- superhero identity?
no subject
I'm not one to have different identity though, Miss, I'm already quite the hero, no need to hide that behind a mask.
no subject
no subject
[ At least he's semi-honest in his reply. Stepping forward in time by around 750 years is a culture shock for anyone, even the great Jaskier! ]
no subject
no subject
[ It's only now, as self involved as he is, that he bothers to spare his company a better look, squinting vaguely in the dim light of the bar. ]
I'm sorry, have we met? I rarely forget a divine looking face.
no subject
[ Now that he's finally taken a better look at her she grins and drops the accent when she speaks again. ]
Tch, I was wondering how long it'd take.
no subject
Oh! You sly minx! Following me, are you?
no subject
I come here from time to time. New disguise, same suckers.
no subject
So, what's your usual approach? Charm it out of them, or a simple bit of pick-pocketing?
no subject
A little of column a and a little of column b, it really just depends on the situation. Sometimes they'll give me want but most of the time it takes the ol' charm and snatch.
no subject
[ Which is to say he's a dirty cheat at any and all games. ]
no subject
I can teach you some poker if you'd like. Or just point you toward a few of the dens. You might be able to pick up a thing or two just by watching some games.
[ Surprisingly Kenzi isn't one to rely on cheating for such games. She's just really good at reading people. ]
What's gwent?
no subject
Gwent? It's a card game. I've not seen anything quite like it here yet, but it's based on hero cards and winning the most points over a potential three rounds.
no subject
Huh. Sounds like a game you might find in one of the gaming and comic shops.
no subject
As well as this Red Branch. Is that the one you run?
no subject
no subject
[ Selling himself big there, but you gotta talk the talk just to get venues sometimes. ]
no subject
[ There's a bit of a tease to her tone. ]
no subject
Audition?! I'm the great Jaskier, I've not done an audition in my life. There's no need with my talents.
no subject
I suppose I'll just have to take your word for it. [ She might be goading him a little. ]
Anyway, if you ever wanna check the Branch out give me a heads up. Though, be warned, if you stop by any time within the next couple of months, know it's a work in progress. [ She has no idea how long it's going to take to get the place opened. ]
no subject
[ What if he got dirt on him or, even worse, was asked to help build things?! Truly a nightmare scenario. Best to avoid at all costs. ]
I wish you good luck in your business venture, though. Truly I do.
no subject
[ She'd only ask him to help clean the bathrooms, how bad could that be? Spoiler; it's terrible. She's been putting them off for as long as possible. ]
Well, if you're still interested come oh probably June, with the way things are around here, let me know. In the meantime... [ Her attention has been dragged away to someone on the far end of the bar. ] I'm going to go have some fun.
Toodles. [ She slips down from her seat and heads off. ]