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. ]
ii, nonah
Okay, no, that’s not exactly Molly’s corner, other buskers have come and gone on that corner, but it’s the one that Molly prefers the most—it’s nice and dry, there’s a little shade from the tree over there, and it’s got an optimum amount of foot traffic, which means he can get quite a lot of people here asking for a fortune.
And now there’s a bard on it! There’s a moment where Molly just stands there, a little peeved over having to find a new place, before he sighs. The guy’s not too bad, actually. Definitely deserves a crowd like that, so he stands off to the side, idly playing with his tarot cards and listening to the music.
Then he calls:] Ruby of the Sea!
no subject
He's got a good crowd here, a nicely lit spot for his theatrics, and all the attention he could possibly need, fully in his element and in high spirits as Molly calls out.
There's a few seconds of silence as he lets the request settle into his mind, strumming out the basic backing chords before realising this is the sort of music he's familiar with back home. All these other songs he'd been performing had been interesting enough, but it sure is nice to get something more suitable for a bard and his lute.
Molly gains Jaskier's full focus, his approach towards the tiefling a slow walk as he starts up a gentle croon. ]
I once heard of a lady fair, With blood-scarlet skin and the moon in her hair...
no subject
He is also walking towards him. Molly grins at the crowd, doing a couple of card tricks for the fun of it, before pocketing his cards and swaying along to the song. As a circus man he tends to stand back out of respect for the performances of others, so he doesn’t dare interrupt Jaskier while the song is going.
But he absolutely puts a little sway into his step, tail swinging lazily about, as if inviting him to come closer for a dance. The implication becomes much less implied when he holds his hand out, quirking an eyebrow, the unspoken offer on the table: want a dance?]
no subject
It's not a jig sort of song, so he keeps his footwork smooth and gliding, hips swaying into a slow sort of dance as he fully accepts that invitation to join in with Molly. Although his attention sticks mostly to his finely dressed requester, as the chorus rolls around his voice grows louder, opening up to invite the crowd to sing along with the basics.
And of course he shows off even more as the ending rolls around, lasting out that last word for far longer than needed, carrying the note across the crowds as the applause spatters throughout. ]
.. and out of your reeeeeaach~
[ Molly gets a flourishing bow once it's all done, an appreciation for his choice in music. ] My, what a fine song!
no subject
[A beat, during which Molly quickly realizes how that could be taken.]
They're related. [which is the closest Molly will get to giving that away.] This is certainly a better translation than the one my friend sang for us, it just went, [pitching his voice a little higher and trying his best to imitate Jester's accent:] the Ruby of the Sea is the best lay ever.
[Which is probably an exaggeration. All the best songs and ballads have a hint of exaggeration about them at the very least.]
Are you new here?
no subject
And that smile doesn't fade with the explanation of the song's origins, because honestly he's pretty sure those other lyrics would've done just fine too. ]
Very! Not even a week has passed. I'd somewhat given up on making sense of things, thought I'd return to what I knew... Well, sort of.
[ The singing and lute playing are familiar, the songs are less so. ]
no subject
[Spoken like someone who has a lot of experience in this world surprising him. He gives the busking spot a longing look for a moment, before he looks back at Jaskier.]
I will say, it's been a long time since I last saw a proper bard around here. [With the costumes and the lute, and all.] Even the Medieval Festival doesn't quite get the style right, and they're sticklers for accuracy most of the time.
[A pause.]
I'm Mollymauk Tealeaf, by the way—Molly to my friends. And we're at least friendly now, aren't we?
no subject
[ He rests one arm casually on the neck of his lute while he extends the other for a hand shake, teeth flashing by way of introduction. ]
These "Medieval Festivals", are they similar to a "Ren Faire"? I've been told I'd fit in at one of those rather well. Although truth be told I've not had the pleasure of seeing one yet.
[ Next time there's a Ren Faire in town though, he'll be doing his damned best to show up every single wannabe bard in the place. Gotta assert his dominance in that regard. ]