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Golden Hills, Golden Memories

Scene details

  • Start date: Aug. 21, 2022, 1:54 a.m.
  • End date: Aug. 21, 2022, 4:21 a.m.
  • Location: Granse - Golden Hills
  • Participants: Ivo Galvan, Fabroxo, Camellia

Setting: Ivo, Fabroxo, and Camellia of the Covenant to Control Chaos venture to the Golden Hills south of Lake Gerisia, ostensibly to gather materials relevant to their research. But for some reason, Ivo has brought a picnic basket and a bottle of wine.

Log


 "Round this bend, the view of the Oradian vineyards is truly stunning."
 Ivo's cloak stirs up dust as it swirls, boots crunching in the gravel that strews the path through the dry Golden Hills. Swinging under one arm is a straw basket, the tip of a bottle of wine conspicuously poking out from one corner. The young man chatters on in a lively tone like that of cocktail party banter crossed with a guided tour.
 "There's a precipice," he continues, "shaded from the sun at this hour where one may get a glimpse of Lake Gerisia to one side and the vineyards to the other." The great lake to the north sparkles tantalizingly in the mercilessly beating sun. The party is traveling south and, eventually, one would descend into humid jungles, but for now, the air remains dry. "Recalling it from memory would be inadequate. I shall paint a picture for you with words as I behold it."
 The Cosmopolitan is addressing the blind sorceress Camellia, endeavoring to keep pace at her side. Ostensibly, the purpose of their jaunt today is to perform experiments related to their research into the mysterious power of Chaos under different aetheric conditions. The Ruined Aqueduct of Zerhem, where Ivo's laboratory is located (so long as The Capo allows it), may serve him well, but the preponderance of water and earth elements may only be mitigated to some extent there -- or so he claims.
 "Though my words are a poor substitute for nature's beauty," Ivo continues, "the sight is so sublime that it is sure to speak through me and stir your heart."
 It's not clear what sort of magitech equipment he would be able to fit inside this basket, though.

  • Character: Camellia
  • 2 years, 4 months ago


  Camellia is not really sure why she bothered to come along.

  Her face has the look of someone who has seen everything in their surroundings a hundred times over. ...IF she could see, that is. Very strange. She walks at a languid pace with measured steps, a black and red parasol opened up and set against her shoulder to shield her from the sun's rays.

  "Mmhmm. It's lovely." The white haired woman says in an insincere tone, especially considering she can't see the locales in question. Rather, she seems preoccupied with something else. Occasionally, she taps a foot on the ground, then turns in some random direction and does it again... and then again... Is she searching for something?

  Apparently.

  • Character: Fabroxo
  • 2 years, 4 months ago



SOME TIME AGO
BACK AT THE LAB

  "Of course, Ivo! There is no distance I will not travel, no hurdle I will not overcome in the name of furthering my research, so if you say there's a location in the foothills that's not dirty and wet and would be perfect for further experimentation, I have no option but to begin drafting a comprehensive system to efficiently move the requisite supplies so that we can do it IMMEDIATELY."

  NOW
HERE

  "Ivo PLEASE according to the research itinerary, gazing at the picturesque landscape isn't supposed to be until we have finished the first round of testing, accompanied by the impending sense of accomplishment and a bittersweet regret for the good times spent delving into the secret of the universe together, for now over."
  Fabroxo, brilliant(?) renaissance man and occasional mood-blocker, comes running around a bend in the path behind Ivo and Camellia, loose sheaf of paper held aloft in one hand as a beacon of responsible time management, a generic treasure chest mounted on much-less-generic-in-context wooden wheels dragging behind him. Despite running to catch up while both talking and roughly dragging his travel chest behind him, the fab Fab doesn't seem to be at all out of breath.
  "Please take this seriously or you're going to give Miss Camellia the completely wrong idea about the very serious nature of this research!"


 "I'm so glad you like it," Ivo blithely replies to Camellia, looking pleased as can be to have the sorceress at his side. The ostensible scholar and incorrigible aesthete seems to lose his head in the presence of dangerous women, the more seemingly indifferent to him the better. "The scorching heat of this land recalled to me your blazing ambition, its aridity the sweet cruelty of your distance." He saw her pry out the gems embedded in a merman's skin, so it's not clear what he finds sweet about her cruelty. "Yet like the sight of the lake wavering in the distance, so the promise of your affections is as an oasis, perhaps a mirage, or perhaps something mo--"
 He finally shuts up for a moment when Fabroxo interjects. Ivo looks over his shoulder and, grinning cheerfully, nods repeatedly in assent.
 "Of course, of course," he demurs, "you are quite right, my friend. I am getting ahead of myself in my enthusiasm for, ah, your superior schedule. But tell me, is that the Comprehensive Supply Moving System Mark 1? Or, in your brilliance, have you already innovated upon its initial iteration?"
 As he says this, Ivo is smoothly uncorking the bottle of wine, pulling a glass from the basket and topping it up with a blood-red vintage that sparkles lightly. Camellia seems to have slowed her progress to tap her foot upon the ground. The young man's eyes narrow. He knows her ways at this point. Surely he can identify at a glance what she is up to!
 "Camellia, is there a rock in your shoe?" he hazards. "Perhaps we should take a moment to rest and refresh ourselves. Here, a fine lambrusco, grown deeper in these very hills." Optimistically, he offers the sorceress the glass.

  • Character: Camellia
  • 2 years, 4 months ago



  Oh sweet gods. This man sure can talk. Subtly, Camellia rolls her eyes at his spiel that seemed like it would never end, but then before she could consider silencing measures, Fabroxo, lord and savior of this moment, comes barreling in. Right on time.

  "... Don't worry about me. I'm well aware of the incredibly, and very serious nature of this excursion." She says, though her lips quirk into a sardonic little smirk. Though she doesn't turn to face Ivo, the sorceress speaks in response to his inquiry. "No, you dolt. I'm scanning the surrounding area." She explains bluntly, tapping a foot on the ground again. While it looks like nothing is happening to the casual observer, each deliberate tap creates waves of aetheric energy that rolls over the surroundings, returning to Camellia all sorts of information.

  ...A sort of magical echolocation, if you will.

  "Ah yes. Wine. Out to get me drunk now, are you?" She rolls her eyes as she does what amounts to teasing for her. "Your devious ploys knows no end, Galvan. I'm almost impressed. Almost." She says in response to the offer to relax. Which sounds like the exact opposite of what they ostensibly came out here to do, really.

  • Character: Fabroxo
  • 2 years, 4 months ago



  And then Fabroxo, too, is given the opportunity to catch up, thanks to the general slowing and subsequent stoppage of forward progress brought on by his companion's signature disease. His cargo, on the other hand, seems to have a certain mass to it that requires some small exertion to bring to a full halt, though halt it presently does.

  "Well, I'm glad somebody else is treating this with gravitas such paradigm-shifting forces rightfully deserve!" Fabroxo appears to take Camellia at face value, which judging by Ivo's reaction should be quite expensive. But then his own face falls, and he lets out a...perhaps disappointed sigh?

  "Ivo, what are you talking about? The gaps in your knowledge are truly baffling, this should be a simple concept, one I assumed you were at least familiar with, based on your own container, but...perhaps I should explain, then." Fabroxo sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose wearily. "You see, this is a chest." He looks back and forth between it and his tragically simple companion.

  "For keeping things in."


 "I wouldn't *dream* of it," Ivo doth protest to Camellia, managing to hold up a hand palm out as though in defense without dropping either the wine glass or the basket under his arm, "though I'd do most anything to impress you. I'd merely hoped to set the mood for our, ah, charming venture, to give us a taste of the hills, as it were."
 The Cosmopolitan looks curiously toward the sorceress's continued tapping, unable to discern her technique, not being a sorcerer himself and reliant upon the aetheric sensor installed in his sword's hilt for any approximation of her ability.
 "Should you detect a concentration of the undead," he supplies, endeavoring to be helpful, "the Pits of Avarice are not far from here. It is a grim and haunted place, long since stripped of gold."
 Indeed, the Star Chasers acquired a fragment of the Crux of Creation there, now at last assembled. But Ivo has no desire to call Camellia's attention back to that artifact, lest she come back into conflict with the party. So long as she remains intrigued by the phenomenon of Chaos, and Ivo can forestall the Covenant from laying siege to Aurita Meloda again, his divergent affiliations should be sustainable.
 More or less.
 Unbeknownst to Ivo, Camellia has likely learned that the Golden Hills is not an especially magical place, which may indeed be helpful for producing consistent experimental results so long as the materials are brought here rather than found on site. But the presence of the undead extend beyond the ghosts and ghouls of the Pits. It seems that, within the vineyard manors to the south, where Oradian aristocrats vacation to escape their humid jungle climes, there are more than the usual amount of vampires.
 "I see!" Ivo is enthusing in the meantime, not missing a beat as Fabroxo wearily explains the obvious. "Your greatness knows no bounds, Fabroxo. Your concerns are too enlightened to be relegated to reinventing the wheel. I continue to learn from you. Why, as it happens--"
 Still holding the glass of wine in the hopes that Camellia will accept it, Ivo deftly shrugs open the lid of his basket and plucks from it what appears to be a set of metallic dolls. Placing them upon the half-open lid, he fiddles with them briefly before they begin to move, of all things, bobbling up and down as a tinny staticky sound emerges.
 "I couldn't help but emulate your Children's Magitechnological Choir Mark 1," Ivo proclaims, beaming, "after observing it in operation on the Sweet Francine. Of course, mine could only be a pale imitation. But I have taken the liberty of installing lyrics of my own."
 Indeed, the noises emanating from the device vaguely resemble a distorted duo of piano and strings, and soon a familiar young man's voice may be made out:

 "Oh lovely flower vivid as the dawn,
  I see you and I tremble to my marrow,
 Before you I am but a callow fawn,
  Pierced by your gaze as though it t'were an arrow.
  Camelliaaaaa,
  Camelliaaaaaaaaa--"

 As Ivo's tinny singing voice continues to blare out, the young man calmly and very carefully extracts a small wooden board from the opening he's made in the basket, somehow not upsetting the musical magitech positioned upon the closed half of the lid. Upon the board is a collection of dried meats, cheeses, and crackers have been artfully preassembled.
 "Charcuterie?" he prompts, extending it alongside the glass again.
 He shows not the slightest glimmer of self-consciousness.
 "By the way, Fabroxo," Ivo eventually adds, "whatever happened to the original Children's Magitechnological Choir Mark 1? I never did see what you did with it."

  • Character: Camellia
  • 2 years, 4 months ago


  Camellia sighs.

  Given the revelation of her 'scanning' the environment moments earlier, it comes as little surprise when she approaches Ivo, then reaches out and nabs the offered wine glass after much posturing. "Fine, whatever." She seems disappointed. Likely, she didn't find what she was searching for. But she did uncover a host of other information, irrelevant to her as it may be. Well, most of it.

  To be sure, she's more than had her fill of *vampires* as it happens. And yet, she can hardly escape it in full, can she?

  "Hm." She raises the glass to her lips, and has a brief sip. "... Ah, yes. I can just taste the landscape. How thrilling." The sorceress says as she sets her parasol down, and then sinks to the grass after to... relax. "In any case, if you people wanted to run your experiments without any overwhelming influence from any one element or the other, then this could do worse than this place." Another sip. "There's nothing here. Except grapes. And vampires, probably. Try not to get your blood sucked."

  Pause.

  "Or do. Maybe you're into that sort of thing."

  Sip.

  That 'song' meanwhile...

  "Don't make me pour this on you, Galvan." Camellia threatens languidly, swirling her wine glass slowly.

  • Character: Fabroxo
  • 2 years, 4 months ago


  Slowly, ever so slowly, Fabroxo's face transforms, going from an expression of mild disappointment and weariness to one of carefully crafted, absolute neutrality. There is no joy, no sadness, nothing of the human experience. Only a man who instinctively knows, perhaps for the first time, that he has found a unique phenomenon that he cannot bear the consequences of engaging with.

  Perhaps, if it were but a single facet of Ivo's shameless horndoggery, a mortal mind would be capable of withstanding the close proximity - but this can only be theorized, as the powerful combination of singing dolls, flattery, and a light snack tray is enough to bring even the mightiest of men low with embarassment by proxy.

  "I think," Fabroxo carefully enunciates, "That these are technically very impressive, and a fine example of what you can accomplish when properly motivated, and that has nothing to do with the indefinite suspension of all further research on the original series." He has begun perspiring noticeably, some odd rivulets of black grease streaking down the side of his face with it, and his eyes dart to Camellia as she kindly shares the lay of the land, trying to catch her attention in a moment where Ivo is distracted by cheese or something. "Thank you for the warning, Miss Camellia, I am sure that Ivo and I can manage to do what is required without being drained by the local undead predators."
  Fabroxo quickly shakes his head back and forth in stark contrast, pointing at Ivo and mouthing a single word, eyes wide with concern: 'DEAD.'


 "What if I'm into that sort of thing?" Ivo unhesitatingly quips in response to Camellia's threat as he, employing his dexterity for only the most trivial of pursuits, procures a neatly folded blanket from the bottom of the basket and whips it out so that it settles cleanly down before the now seated sorceress. Setting down the charcuterie board so that at last his hands are freed, just in time to catch the miniature choir as it is about to slide off of its precarious perch, he rights it before producing the bottle to pour another glass.
 The wine is effervescent, bubbling as though in glee, and he nearly sneezes as he sniffs it, taking in its vivacious aroma. His half-serious study to prepare to pretend to be a sommelier for a restaurant-based quest has left Ivo with a passable capacity for wine selection, which he has aimed to exploit to the fullest today.
 "Amateur bard though I am," he says, attempting to be modest and in fact flattering himself, "I would have performed one of my many other better love poems written in your honor, but alas, I have misplaced my treasured notebook." Wine glass held delicately in one hand, he raises a finger to his lips with the other, winking at Camellia, which-- uh, maybe she'll sense the vibe, or something. "But I am so embarrassed by my little hobby." Yes, clearly. "Let's have it be our little secret."
 Fabroxo, of course, is right there, hearing everything.
 "Well, let's not be too hasty, my friend," Ivo is saying brightly. "I should think it depends on the predator. Let me tell you, I've--"
 As he turns to address his fellow magitechnician, he finally, at long last, loses track of all the many items he has been balancing. The singing dolls topple from the lid of the basket and proceed to roll down the desiccated grasses lining the dry hillside.
 "Oh, no!"
 With the glass of wine in his hand, Ivo was in no position to catch them again. Distractedly, he takes a sip as he watches his invention roll down the slope. Ah, that's good.
 "Never mind," he says bravely, hiding his disappointment at not getting to the second verse as he flashes a smile at his companions. "I'll descend to retrieve it as soon as we--"
 *BOOM*
 Wine splashes from the rim of his glass as Ivo flinches before turning back, wide-eyed, to see burning wreckage where the miniature choir had come to rest.
 "My song!"
 But his dismay only grows as the fire begins to spread along the dry grasses at the base of the hill, ash and smoke rising toward them. Nervously, Ivo raises his eyebrows.
 "Perhaps," he murmurs, "my passion burned too hot."

  • Character: Camellia
  • 2 years, 4 months ago


  Times like these make Camellia glad that she can't see.

  All this tomfoolery would be even dumber if she had to put eyes on the proceedings.

  Unfortunately, this also means that Camellia does not see Fabroxo trying his best to signal to her something about Ivo. Because... you know.

  Another languid sip is had.

  "I'm not going to judge your kinks. Though I advise you keep them to yourself in polite company." Pause. .....Does this count as polite company? We've got the half baked magitech researcher slash adventurer in the ratty cape, the mad scientist, and the edgy sorceress.

  ...Look, we've all got to start somewhere.

  "A secret, hm? I don't know..." She smirks, averting her eyes idly. "...I tend to find that I have loose lips if I know that I can embarrass someone." She doesn't seem to be very serious about it, of course.

  Soon after, the sound of objects tumbling away reaches her ears. Judging by Ivo's 'Oh no!', that couldn't have been good... for him anyway. The sound of a distant BOOM clues her in to their ultimate demise.

  "So sad. Now I'll never hear the rest of that song."

  Truly, she is broken up about it. Honest.

  The smell of smoke, however, makes her roll her eyes.

  "Right then." She downs the rest of the glass of wine, and leaves the glass near the basket. "I think I've seen enough." Haha, get it?

  She picks up her parasol and sets it against her shoulder again. "I have other business to attend to. I'll leave you two to bond over your failed contraptions." And with that, Camellia proceeds to wander off, ignoring the catastrophe caused by the exploded dolls below.


 "Wait!"
 Ivo, seemingly even more dismayed by the prospect of Camellia's departure than the flames raging beneath them, reaches out with the hand not holding his wine glass.
 "What about the charcuterie!?"
 But alas, it is no use. With a sigh, the young man shakes his head. If only he had gotten to the second verse. That would have won her over for sure. Draining the lambrusco only convinces him more fully of that opinion.
 "Time," he remarks, "to utilize the Fire Suppression Device Mark 1. Give me a hand, won't you, Fabroxo?"
 So saying, he gathers up the picnic blanket and slides down the hill in a torrent of dust, diving upon the spreading flames in a desperate effort to smother them. By the end of it, Ivo may rival Fabroxo for being stained with soot.
 And so another successful scientific endeavor concludes.