songerein | open mingle 🍷 grand opening

Entry tags:

open mingle 🍷 grand opening

Who: Diluc Ragnvindr, Barok van Zieks, and anybody!
Where: At Day's End bar and winery
What: After a few months of preparation, Diluc and Barok's Fine Drinking Establishment is finally ready to open! So they're doing that. With a party! Bring your own toplevel.
When: A few days before the flower festival
Warnings: I mean. Alcohol?

Welcome to the grand opening of At Day’s End!

As a nod to the upcoming holiday, the bar has been decorated with carefully arranged flowers in addition to the planned garlands and lanterns to evoke a comfortable but festive atmosphere. Although the pair didn't exactly anticipate the sudden influx of emotion-steampunk-land natives, they have temporarily removed a few tables in the interest of opening up the floor for more visitors, and the weather is thankfully warm enough for the doors to remain open. Attendees are encouraged to try small tastes of different drinks before deciding upon a full glass, giving an easy opportunity to mingle with others.

At Day’s End serves a variety of locally-crafted wines and spirits as well as non-alcoholic options such as juice, coffee, and tea.

ALCOHOLIC SPECIALS
- Cider Special: Applebloom Cider - Apple cider brewed with apple blossoms. Light and floral. Usually only available during Windblume in Mondstadt, and similarly will only be available during the month of April in Songerein.
- Red Wine Special: Midnight Harvest - A sweet red wine with a very fruity taste and hints of nutty flavor.
- White Wine Special: Winter Moon - A dry, crisp white wine for those seeking a less sweet drinking experience.
- Cocktail: Thorns of Springtime - Whiskey, honey, chamomile tea, and elderflower liqueur. Served over ice.
NON-ALCOHOLIC SPECIALS
- Gray Valley Sunset: It’s just fruit punch with a fancy name.
- Rosé Bloom: A mix of juices made from only the finest red and white grapes, according to van Zieks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Of course! Crimes can unfold anywhere, at any time. Even at this lovely little soirée. [ He raises his drink, takes a sip and says, almost cheerfully: ] I find alcohol improves those chances by no small margin!

[ Sholmes recalls her particular interest in firearms, and sets aside his drink to draw his pistol. He flicks open the cylinder—empty, as expected—locks it back into place and offers the weapon, grip first, to Beatrix for inspection. ] Here you are. The handheld artillery I mentioned.

[ He produces a .45 caliber bullet and sets it on the table. ] And the round it fires.

Whilst I am inclined to agree with you on that, I...

[Well, she's always found she can cut right to the heart of the matter. In a fashion. Most of the time, anyway. To say she's always done it would be little more than a falsehood.

What he offers her stops her train of thought well enough. It's a sleek piece, really. Quite elegant as she's looking at it, though it's a bit smaller than she's expected. Of course, as a woman intrigued by swords and more familiar with such things, she's certain she was expecting something more like that. Even Zidane's daggers, she's almost certain, are larger.

With a breath's hesitance, she accepts the pistol and she takes a moment to set down her glass to get a better look at the piece he's offered. Miniature artillery. Well, not miniature. She isn't sure how she would call it, honestly. But when he sets down the bullet, she eyes it for a beat or two before deciding this is almost like holding a small piece of the Red Rose canon fire in her hands.]

It is a bit like a canon, is it not? The closest thing I can think of in comparison would be things I have seen aboard airships. Although an airship's usage is not my expertise either.

It employs similar principles to a cannon, yes! Gunpowder in the cartridge is activated by a firing pin and the ensuing explosion propels the slug. Grooves in the barrel impart a spin that stabilizes the projectile and improves accuracy. Quite a feat of engineering. [ As he explains, he points to the relevant parts of both the gun and bullet. The weapon has other curious design elements: a flange at the base of the grip and some threading at the end of the barrel that suggest missing parts. ]

I would demonstrate, but as I mentioned, I only have so many rounds and I doubt Lord van Zieks would appreciate firearms discharged in his bar. [ Sholmes is already on paper-thin ice as it is, what with his improvised drinks and stray bats. ]

You must tell me, General, what sort of airship can accommodate a cannon? Where I come from, the best we have are hot air balloons, and the most they can handle is a basket and a few passengers.

[She listens intently as he demonstrates for her. That she's able to connect the concept of a gun and a cannon together allows her a better understanding of what she's looking at. Beatrix lifts a free and and she waves somewhat dismissively before she offers his gun back over to him.]

Let us not stir his ire. I am on good terms with him and I should like to keep it that way.

[At his question, Beatrix reclaims her glass of wine and she tilts her head with some consideration.]

Not all airships are built with combat in mind. Many are transport only. I would not say that combat by way of air is so commonplace. Her Majesty's personal airship is capable. I would have reason to believe that Lindblum, a not-so-distant kingdom from my own is likely further ahead in such advancements. That kingdom could be considered the birthplace of airship technology and progression.

[ Sholmes returns the revolver to its holster, the precious bullet to his pocket. ] It comes as no surprise at all that they would be modified for war, however premature.

[ He's still trying to envision what these airships look like. Do they glide and flap bird-like wings? Or are they great vessels held aloft by so many hot air balloons? All of the possibilities are equally charming, if not somewhat impractical. ]

Do you often find yourself deployed on such craft, General? Perhaps to move your troops into place, or survey the battlefield? If not engage in the rare aerial combat you mention? [ He can't deny that it sounds exciting, and his expression suggests as much. ]

[She suspects that Herlock doesn't particularly mean anything malevolent by asking, though it doesn't remove how pointed the line of questioning is. The Red Rose is used for no shortage of things. Brahne's ship, but truthfully... Beatrix has quite possibly spent more time commanding from it than her own queen.]

I have spent a considerable increased amount of time aboard within the last few years.

[At first, it seems that's all she's inclined to say, but after a breath, Beatrix continues.]

I suppose it has been used more for transport in tandem with the... allocation of mages. My kingdom is currently at war.

[ Sholmes might as well be a squirrel, foraging aimlessly for interesting morsels to hoard (and probably forget.) Sometimes those caches of information do yield dividends—for leads or ~~blackmail~~ negotiations—but Beatrix is quite safe. For now.

At present, the detective seems more enchanted by the simple novelty of a lady general who rides to war in an airship. And the modest terms in which she describes this occupation. ]

So you've been plucked from the midst of battle and dropped here. [ He waves his drink at the surroundings. ] No surprise at all that you'd be keen on a militia—you must find this civilian life quite unstimulating!

Something... like that.

[Dropped here, indeed. It's part of why Beatrix was so believably volatile upon her arrival. And he's put the rest of it together easily enough. She is restless. Of course she wants to bury herself into something, just to make up for the idea that she's been put into a place where she's... considerably less practical.]

With or without the presence of war in my world would not have changed my idea that this place could benefit from order. Not excessive restriction. Simply protection for those who need it. [She's resolute on that front.] As for... Well. There is no denying that it is a very different kind of lifestyle here. Not convenient to acclimate to for a soldier.

[ "Order" still strikes him as a troublingly subjective term, but he can't argue with the idea of basic protection. He's well-accustomed to human threats, but he's encountered nothing of the sort since his arrival. (Unless Sholmes' own absentminded self-sabotage counts.)

No, he's only noted more metaphysical threats: Noctaere and nightmare energy. ]

Hum. On the matter of protection: I wonder, have you encountered any Noctaere as of yet?

I have.

[It's a very simple answer to give and she sees no reason she has need to hide that information.]

A few times, I should think by this time. I would not say it is an expertise, but I suspect should we continue to cross paths with them, it will become a forte in time. I doubt they will stop appearing anytime soon. If you have not yet seen one, you will. Eventually.

[Her head tips as she gives him a once over thoughtfully.] Do you suppose you can stand against one?

[ A few times. That's exactly what he hoped from the lady general; she should be a source of good data.

At the question, Sholmes rests his hip against the table and rubs his chin. ] I only have experience with human adversaries, but as you well know, it's a relatively simple task to incapacitate a man. Land a blow in his many tender regions and he drops like a sack of so many potatoes.

[ But a supernatural being? Kazuma and Soldier 76's residual nightmare features only leave him to wonder what kind of threat a Noctaere at full strength must present. He finally offers some speculation: ]

Armed with knowledge, the right trinkets, and a healthy dollop of hubris, I may hold my own against a Noctaere.

[ He waves a hand down his person. ] But you've already met such foes. What do your general's instincts say? We've already established I'm no prince—could I instead have the makings of a worthy knight?

[Debatable.

Not all men or women are so easily felled. It would be rather presumptuous to think otherwise. True that some of her opponents have been less than interesting. Others, like a certain captain in clunky armour, have been underestimated.

And the idea of the Noctaere... Well. That's altogether different, isn't it?

At his question, Beatrix frowns and this time, it's not just her usual expression, though perhaps to some she does little more than frown and scowl and offer scathing remarks.]

The circumstances here in this world are decisively different, Master Sholmes. It is not as straight forward as employing the use of a sharpened blade or a well-placed magic spell.

[After a decently long drink from her glass, Beatrix continues.] In my opinion, combating the Noctaere requires a confidence and knowledge in how magic and strength are comprised in this world. One with a stronger sense of creative innovation is likely to be more successful than say, one who may be more sceptical or logical. [Herself, that is. She has found that her scepticism has done her very few favours since arrival.] My assessment of your person? I know you little. Initial deduction implies you may fit into the former. Not all princes, after all, take to the battlefield. If you have the will, the resolve, and the heart to protect others, then surely you have the makings of a knight.

[ Master Sholmes. He rather likes the sound of that. What, if anything, he's the master of may be a subject of debate.

To be fair, Sholmes arrived in Songerein with a healthy amount of skepticism; his beloved science might as well be wadded up and tossed in the bin—thoroughly upended as it is by the whims of dream magic. But in a matter of days, he's adapted to, and even come to delight in the chaos; it makes his work more exciting. ]

That assessment was bang-on. Are you certain you don't know me? [ He laughs. ] Indeed. Creativity lies at the heart of my methods. One must always consider a problem from multiple angles, however outlandish they may seem. Only thereafter should possibility be pruned with the shears of logic. [ Maybe this is the place where Sholmes' wild imagination won't require such aggressive "pruning"? ]

So you must be given to the latter mindset, General Beatrix, bound by prudence—only to be expected when one's decisions risk countless lives. No room for whimsy in such grave calculations, is there?

[She smiles—just a touch—into her glass. Beatrix would not necessarily consider herself intuitive by any means. She views him in the same lens that she views everyone else. All might as well be an enemy until they prove themselves otherwise. Of course, the very same could be said about her, too.]

It was only deduction based on what I have learnt of you thus far. [She explains rather simply, feeling that this is not one of those situations where she can be believably arrogant.]

[His assessment of her person is a valid one. True. Creativity is not necessarily in Beatrix's schedule. One can suppose on the field of battle, sometimes she's had to be, but she suspects she's far more likely to give into simply... brute strength. That's what her sword is for, isn't it?]

What a very kind way for you to describe me. I do not think my people would view it quite the same way. Either way, you are not inaccurate. Creativity has little place in war or in battle, save perhaps some very particular circumstances. Even then, strategy is logic-based.

[ It's not difficult to guess at the general's reputation, and Sholmes can well imagine it's not in her nature to be worried over a kind portrayal. No successful officer is overly-liked. Respected, perhaps. Feared, maybe. ]

As I understand it, there is a confounding issue when it comes to Noctaere. One which may defy cold logic. [ A cool, spring draft darts through the open doors, ruffling flower arrangements and guttering lanterns. ] That is, a Noctaere may not only be a simple manifestation of nightmare energy—it can just as readily corrupt one of our own.

[ The breeze has carried in a fresh batch of invisible pollen and Sholmes stifles a sneeze in his elbow before asking, thickly: ] Would such knowledge stay your hand, General?

[For just the flicker of a moment, Beatrix's attention moves onto rustle of flower arrangements and the subtle sound of lanterns shifting, even if but minutely. Herlock's words settle within her and for several breaths, she doesn't address. Immediate responses from her tend to be ones to be feared. Rarely is she moved to a counter without a pause. Perhaps simply more logic.]

My personal preference...

[She begins, choosing her words carefully, knowing that it wouldn't be impossible for her to simply slay and ask questions later. Knowing Noctaere can be people corrupted and tainted by nightmares... It's reason for her to not immediately assume that Save the Queen will solve all conflicts.]

Would be to purify Noctaere creatures. If we could manage to do so. I do not imagine that will always be within the realm of possibility. It could be that the Noctaere I have fought against or slain could have been people. How would we have way to know if the corruption made one unrecognisable?

[Beatrix shakes her head.] I must admit that I do not have all of the answers.

Surely there are some clues. Just as one can recognize a friend from afar by only their gait and posture, some unique traits or behaviors must suggest the individual, however subtle.

[ He seems to remember he's holding a drink, and takes a thoughtful sip. He couldn't be more pleased by the juxtaposition: such a refined, evening soiree spent discussing the dire matter of nightmare monstrosities. What a refreshing escape from such stodgy topics as taxes and politics! ]

As to non-lethal handling and purification, I must wonder how unique the solution is to the victim and their own special torment. [ Sholmes reflects on his first dreamwalk and the negative emotions that—he's quite certain—invited the nightmare energy into Mikotoba's dreamscape. ] Or does a handy cure-all exist? A simple, positive gesture? Ah! Perhaps true love's kiss will break the curse and return the monster to his senses! What a charming tableau!

[ Now he's just riffing. Is this what he means by exploring all possibilities? Who wants to be the first to test that hypothesis? ]

But I fully agree, General, we need more reconnaissance!

If one knew another well enough to determine a unique antic, that would suit, yes. I certainly do not know everyone here. I would find it difficult to believe anyone does. There are no shortage of bodies like yours and mine, after all.

[Although Yujin's council may very well make that a possibility. Perhaps they ought to create an archive of those present, or those who once were there, for surely as often as bodies arrive, so too do they depart. Current status would be useful. She makes a note to bring that up to the man in question. If anyone has a head for such things, it seems to be him.

Her thoughts slowly turn as she plays back what he's said, though she's almost certain he's teasing about the whole thing. There's no way he's serious... right?]

...True... love's kiss?

[Beatrix feels the furrow of her brow is telling enough. She almost can't squeeze the 'l'-word out of her. It sounds ridiculous. Anyone believing in such an idea sounds ridiculous. Romance itself is... Well. Maybe not ridiculous, but it can be awfully silly at times. Best in a book and little else beyond that. She shakes her head, loosing something of a sigh in disbelief.]

Perhaps this is something that ought to be brought to the attention of Reverein's public. Acquire a public opinion and feedback. It affects all of us, after all. It ought to be addressed by all of us.

[ The suggestion has the desired effect; there are few greater pleasures in this world than subjecting stern people to a sudden fit of absurdity. ] Let us hope it's not the case. It would make for quite the task: to not only discern a Noctaere's identity but to match them with the object of their deepest affection—assuming there is such a one—and entreat them to pucker up!

[ It sounds like the makings of a fun game if the stakes weren't so very high.

Sholmes gives Beatrix another discreet once-over. She certainly has an anachronistic look about her—like knights of old, albeit with more style. And yet, she talks of airships and cannons? He can't quite picture her world or align it to his sense of history and civilization. ]

For someone who serves a monarch, you have quite the drive for democracy. Or does your queen share power with an elected parliament?

I—no. I am not going to believe anything like that until I see it with my own eyes.

[It really is as simple as that. She's not even willing to entertain such a notion as a hypothetical. She can just imagine what it'd be like if he's even remotely onto something. Would... she just withdraw herself if it ever became something like that?

...No. Probably not.

Herlock's assessment of her person is rewarded with a long pause.]

Her Majesty utilises full power over her kingdom. Serving my queen does not mean I always support what she intends to do with that power and influence. Do I think my kingdom would benefit from a council? Perhaps one day. Are they ready for it now? Doubtful.

[ Fortunately, Sholmes drops the topic of fairytale kisses, satisfied that he's put the general off balance.

He finds her explanation far more interesting, anyway. Of the military types he's met, most of them tend to be blindly loyal to Queen and Country. (With the exception of some jaded old-timers, perhaps.) He chalks it up as a mechanism for justifying frightening and violent work; questioning one's duty leads to a tortured conscience.

Sholmes is, as ever, grateful he's but a freelancing consultant, answering to no one but his client du jour and his own moral compass. ]

Surely a woman like you has no qualms about voicing her dissent. [ A musing swirl of his drink. ] What does your queen make of it?

[He's a bit prying, isn't he.

Beatrix spends some breaths simply taking him in, once more dipping her nose into her glass of wine. What does Brahne make of it? Make of Beatrix's oft pointed remarks. Truthful. Serrated. Never particularly shy to mince words if she's going to bother sharing any of them. Avoiding everything else she doesn't want to discuss.]

Once, she valued my input. [She begins and after a moment's consideration, she shakes her head.] Things change. Circumstances change. People change. It has been some time since she was particularly interested in my insight.

[And she has stopped sharing it.]

[ He would assure her that he'd make a terrible detective if he wasn't extremely nosy. And speaking of noses, he pardons himself to blow his again. When he turns back, it's a rosy red. Those damned open doors are an assault on his sinuses. ]

War has a way of changing circumstances and people rather quickly, doesn't it? Do you suppose she is the one who changed, or you?

[...By this point, she's almost certain he's under the weather. The thought encourages her to shift the way she's holding her glass. She can't afford to be under the weather herself.

Didn't he say something about allergies? She supposes that's not exactly the same, but still.]

I would wager to say that both of us have been changed by the tides of war. I would find it very hard to believe anyone involved in a war would be untouched by it. That said, her change occurred prior to the war. Given that we continue to be in it at present, its circumstances have changed me.

[...In more ways than one, perhaps.]

[ He notes the movement and quickly assures her: ] Don't fret. It's nothing catching. Merely my body's acute intolerance to these lovely, dastardly flowers.

[ The nosiness doesn't stop; Sholmes is close to a full read on her character, but some vital context is still missing. ] Is the war a matter of defending her current borders and the subjects therein? Or is she akin to my own Queen—ambitiously expanding her empire across continents?

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