[He snorts. Yes, he'll remind her later. But as she feels nostalgic for blankets and nights of these firework things, he feels it the same for long nights on the Path, he and the Witcher alone, gazing up at the stars with a rabbit roasting on the fire. The howls of wolves far in the distance.
It's not quite the same now. It had been so quiet then, outside of insects and wildlife, the fire popping. Here he prepares himself, steadying for whatever it is that's meant to scare him. A whistle sounds through the air, making the horses lift their heads upwards.
Then it explodes.
A burst of color soars across the night sky in an explosion almost reminiscent of the one that gave him the scar on his arm. And though the first one makes him jump, startling him, he rises up on his hands to stare. More incomprehensible pops of color -- and these, he recognizes, shaped and colored like flowers. The music floods in and, honestly, the combination of both is almost too much. Though he cups his hands over his ears, he never takes his eyes from the sky. Waiting for the next one to go off.
It's beautiful. Like an explosion of stars, of twinkling candle lights, falling through the air. Colors he's rarely ever seen on anything in his life, brighter than the moon.
He's beaming, too, his mouth hanging open. There's no words to describe it, really, when it comes down to it. They're simply... breathtaking.]
[ He does know he's allowed to cuddle Geralt without sleeping on the ground, right? Or like, in some form of shelter. A lean-to, even. She's going to get them a tent. They can spoon in their horse blankets without bugs landing on their faces all night, at least.
She touches his shoulder gently when he jumps, because this is what she was warning him of, but he so quickly falls into the same enchantment as children seeing fireworks for the first time. The bursts keep coming, overlapping each other in rainbow-colored balls, then they switch to hearts and stars. Julie's pretty sure that, if she concentrates hard enough --
A series of music notes bloom across the sky. They don't actually mean anything (Julie can't read music), but the symbols are there. ]
[Look, there's been a few lean-tos. They're simply not necessary.
It blocks the view of the stars. For when it's not raining, of course. Or the moon's too bloody big and bright to see them properly. He enjoyed staring at it, too. Even on the rare nights it would grow bloated and red. Perhaps those nights it was the most beautiful.
It really doesn't hold a candle to this.
Especially once the notes appear! He quickly catches on that they don't mean anything -- or, at least, they're of no song he knows of, and don't have much flow to them -- but they're beautiful nonetheless. Because she's making them for him. Of course the bloody bard wants to see music lit up in glowing sparks. It's never been so beautiful.]
If only we had these in Cadens. I'd be throwing my music into the air just like this. And not a soul would be able to ignore it.
[Certainly he'd be the first bard to do so. Take that, Valdo Marx.]
[ There's a finale of sorts, a sequence of flares and showers, then she lets it end, leaving just the dark sky above them. The sudden quiet is almost piercing, but soon enough, the sounds of the vineyard -- crickets, wind, the horses -- return.
Fireworks are so ancient in Julie's world that she can barely conceive of one where they're not present. She knows that there are guns in the Free Cities, albeit rare, but does that mean that they don't function on gunpowder? If there's one thing she's pretty sure of, it's that humans will find a way to make entertainment out explosions far faster than they'll find a way to responsibly use such power.
She rolls onto her side, props her head on her hand as she considers the idea. ] I mean, I don't think fireworks would be very hard with magic, probably easier than regular fire. But with the way they feel about magic out there... [ She shakes her head a little. ] I can't wrap my head around havin' magic and then hatin' it like that.
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cointosser) wrote2021-04-12 08:58 pm
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It's not quite the same now. It had been so quiet then, outside of insects and wildlife, the fire popping. Here he prepares himself, steadying for whatever it is that's meant to scare him. A whistle sounds through the air, making the horses lift their heads upwards.
Then it explodes.
A burst of color soars across the night sky in an explosion almost reminiscent of the one that gave him the scar on his arm. And though the first one makes him jump, startling him, he rises up on his hands to stare. More incomprehensible pops of color -- and these, he recognizes, shaped and colored like flowers. The music floods in and, honestly, the combination of both is almost too much. Though he cups his hands over his ears, he never takes his eyes from the sky. Waiting for the next one to go off.
It's beautiful. Like an explosion of stars, of twinkling candle lights, falling through the air. Colors he's rarely ever seen on anything in his life, brighter than the moon.
He's beaming, too, his mouth hanging open. There's no words to describe it, really, when it comes down to it. They're simply... breathtaking.]
no subject
She touches his shoulder gently when he jumps, because this is what she was warning him of, but he so quickly falls into the same enchantment as children seeing fireworks for the first time. The bursts keep coming, overlapping each other in rainbow-colored balls, then they switch to hearts and stars. Julie's pretty sure that, if she concentrates hard enough --
A series of music notes bloom across the sky. They don't actually mean anything (Julie can't read music), but the symbols are there. ]
no subject
It blocks the view of the stars. For when it's not raining, of course. Or the moon's too bloody big and bright to see them properly. He enjoyed staring at it, too. Even on the rare nights it would grow bloated and red. Perhaps those nights it was the most beautiful.
It really doesn't hold a candle to this.
Especially once the notes appear! He quickly catches on that they don't mean anything -- or, at least, they're of no song he knows of, and don't have much flow to them -- but they're beautiful nonetheless. Because she's making them for him. Of course the bloody bard wants to see music lit up in glowing sparks. It's never been so beautiful.]
If only we had these in Cadens. I'd be throwing my music into the air just like this. And not a soul would be able to ignore it.
[Certainly he'd be the first bard to do so. Take that, Valdo Marx.]
no subject
Fireworks are so ancient in Julie's world that she can barely conceive of one where they're not present. She knows that there are guns in the Free Cities, albeit rare, but does that mean that they don't function on gunpowder? If there's one thing she's pretty sure of, it's that humans will find a way to make entertainment out explosions far faster than they'll find a way to responsibly use such power.
She rolls onto her side, props her head on her hand as she considers the idea. ] I mean, I don't think fireworks would be very hard with magic, probably easier than regular fire. But with the way they feel about magic out there... [ She shakes her head a little. ] I can't wrap my head around havin' magic and then hatin' it like that.