[After what went down with Morgana, Lightning's nerves have been on the fritz—always on the lookout for anything alarming or out of place, and always listening to what people on the street have to say—that she's tired herself out. It's been some time, almost too long, that she's gone without taking a step out besides to go between jobs, that tonight she's in dire need of something to dull her senses, even just a little.
Alone would have been a fine option, but the moment she's outside the door of the Patisserie, she remembers a promise she'd made to a certain bard, as thanks for his help. Of course, she was never one to go against her word, but why she'd thought of him at all is baffling to her... no way did his song or his persistent friendliness find its way past her walls, had they?
Nah.
She has a message typed up on her device that she reconsiders sending again and again. Minutes go by while her finger hovers on send, and she almost gets around to deleting and rewriting it entirely when—THWAP! The door of the Patisserie swings open and hits her from behind, knocking her forward. The customer apologizes profusely, and Lightning brushes them off with a snide comment about watching where they're going, immediately glancing down to look at her device again.
(Message sent.)
Damn it.
And in that moment, Jaskier will receive a half-written message:]
I still owe you that dri
[She doesn't even bother sending the rest. Too embarrassed.]
[When he gets that little ping that is becoming, strangely, a little more familiar to him, he fully expects it to be Geralt. Possibly checking to make sure he hasn't almost died, again, because that's just a thing he's becoming very good at lately. Or Yennefer, possibly prompting him to finally cut off the bond --
Though he can admit that, so far, it hasn't been... terrible. It's been. Fine, actually.
Which is the most shocking part.
It is neither of his bonded, though. He doesn't recognize the name, but -- ah! Only one person owes him a drink. Offered by her, especially.]
Lightning, how lovely to hear from you. [Play it sweetly. Which wasn't hard for him; it came quite naturally. He had not failed to pick up that Lightning was a bit of a flighty thing, and if he went too strong at first she may flutter out of his reach.
So, drinks. With a. Friend.
(Hopefully not for long.)]
I've just the tavern where we can meet. Very good ale. [He types out the name, very pleased with himself he was adjusting to, how do you call... technology.] I'll only perform if you ask. Promise.
[Is he already heading over without an answer first? Well, absolutely. He can always use a drink, even if she... fails to show.]
[On the bright side, she doesn't receive too flowery a response back, which is a good thing. Hopefully he's learned by now that she isn't the type to appreciate that sort of thing. This was straighter and to the point, which she's grateful for. Too bad he had to bring up his performances...
Lightning doesn't respond to his message though. Her showing up at the tavern is enough said without saying it—that she'd like to honour her promise and thank him for what he did for her so many weeks ago outside of the Patisserie.
Hopefully he's chosen a table near the back, away from the other patrons, because she arrives almost half an hour after he does, her apron crumpled into her pocket and her hairs astray after a day's work. When she finds Jaskier, she immediately slumps into the seat across from him.]
[Lightning is, for sure, proving to be quite a different sort of courting. Not only is she apparently put off by romantic declarations (and songs), but she, as he has thankfully found, is a bit embarrassed by flattery.
A conundrum, one might say.
One that, perhaps, shouldn't matter, as this was a meeting between friends. Of course. But that would not stop Jaskier's heart from wanting what it wanted, which was a beautiful, dangerous woman. His greatest weakness.
He had to take this lightly, he was beginning to think. To not overload her, or make the truth of his heart too quickly revealed. He might have complimented her with gifts -- a short ballad on her beauty, or a gift of silk or sugared fruit slices. He spent what extra time he had in beating her there in finding the right sort of bauble.
And then settled into a table that he imagines she'd like -- and it wasn't a hard choice, when he was long-used to picking dark, uncrowded tables to settle Geralt's needs as well. They were a bit alike, after all.
He perks up immediately, a genuine smile spreading across his face.] Not long at all, though I was happy to wait. [One never brings up the real time spent waiting to a lady, of course. He pulls a small, slim box from his pocket and slides it across the table. It's far from the ornate blade he carries himself; it's plain, and silver, and folds when it's not needed.] My friend got me something similar. I thought, perhaps, in case you find yourself at the wrong end of a monster, as I have. [He does hope she likes it. Or, worse, doesn't have something similar already.] Ready to drink?
[Lightning eyes the box as she very slowly lowers herself into her chair, not quite sure what to do with this new turn of events. First drinks, and now a gift? From where she's standing, it looks like a box one might carry a piece of expensive jewelry in, so when he slides it over and she pops it open to find a simple folding blade inside, she's one part surprised and one part relieved.
Okay, a little unnecessary, but not bad for a gift. At least he's good at picking them.
It's not all that different from the one that Serah had given her and she carries on her person at all times, but he doesn't need to know that. It's the thought that counts after all, and she tugs it out from its secure lining to examine it, twisting the blade in and out with an easy flick of her wrist. Her lips turn upwards, impressed by the quality, and as it glints in the dim lights of the tavern, she peers over its sharp end across the table.]
What do you recommend? It better be good, [as she points the tip of the knife at him, all with a smile that comes too easily.]
[Ah. He hesitates in seeing her expression, but he's quite confident she will, at least, feel free to sell it if it's unnecessary. It is simply not within Jaskier's power to meet a beautiful woman and not offer her a gift.
Even for... drinks. Between. Friends. (Right.)
Friends who, dear gods. Threaten him in the sexiest way possible over the edge of a knife. His heart flutters like a horny little hummingbird. She cannot know the effect she has. Can she?]
I -- yes, of course. I have impeccable taste when it comes to ale. [And women. He may begin to sweat soon. So you like it? He stops himself from asking. One must never come across as too desperate. With her flirtatious smile, he's quite sure that's the case.] I hope you're prepared to be utterly drunk under the table. Bartender! Please, your finest ales! [The man behind the bar is clearly not happy at being shouted out across the room but, look. That's how they do it in the Continent.] Not to worry. I don't intend to need your saving grace with a cup of coffee afterward.
[On the day of the holiday, a plate of homemade cookies and a sample of herbal tea mysteriously appears on his doorstep. The wrapping is decorated with a fresh lily flower (actually a Fae magic product, designed to fade away from existence in a few hours) and a ribbon. The attached handwritten note reads as follows:]
Happy Modranicht! Let’s have another great year here in Aefenglom!
All right, Jaskier. I did as you asked. I'm ready.
[ She's wearing decent clothing for walking about town, rather than for riding and running around outside -- a low-cut cream colored blouse and trim gray waistcoat, matching skirt slit up the thigh for movement, though not too immodestly. Hair down, braided over her shoulder, with her bangs carefully brushed down over the scarred side of her face. She even cleaned up her makeup a little and put on a bit of rouge and pink lipstick. The sword, naturally, stays, but she manages to pull it off.
Ciri leans a shoulder against the doorway, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow. ]
So what's this 'surprise' you keep overtly hinting at? What sort of place are you taking me to that I needed to get all dressed up?
I hope it's nowhere untoward.
[ That's mostly a joke. But it's Jaskier, so only mostly. ]
[Jaskier's voice drifts from his bedroom; even with Ciri's near appearance in their home, he so rarely closes it to the point where he forgets modesty.] Hah! You'd be the first in this house for that. Hold on a moment. [Besides, he's more worried for hers, not his own. He's busy lining up the buttons on his bright red waistcoat, matching an expertly tailored frock coat that, unfortunately, it's a bit too warm to wear. His undershirt is a pleasant cream, which he's thrilled a bit to see matches Ciri's.
Only because it's very relieving to have someone around who understands fashion.]
What is with all of you and a fear of surprises? Surely you understand what it means. [He turns with a smile once his waistcoat has been properly smoothed down, a bright silver chain around his neck with a bejeweled ring hanging from it. Unfortunate he can't wear it, but there's no reason not to show it off.]
It's a nice place. Not those dim sorts of taverns Geralt would take you to. [He pops a few proper rings on his fingers, and squats down next to his bed to peek at Burza, who hides underneath. Her eyes glow out at him, but she seems all right.] Not that I don't enjoy those, too.
[He stands, ready. It's the first time in a while he's found the energy to dress himself up, too. A good reason to show off one of the last pieces he received from his talented Faun tailor.] I don't want to know what sort of horrible preconceptions you have of me, thank you. [He huffs, but it's good-natured. Mostly. The sword at her side does give him pause, if only --
Well, Geralt trusts her. And he finds he does, too.] I used to work there, so don't embarrass me. [He pats her shoulder.] You look wonderful. And also like you could kill me. It's rather effective overall. Now, you like tea, don't you?
Me embarrass you? Please. [ She laughs, crouching down to peer under the bed as well curiously for the kitten, just in case she'll be allowed to sneak in a pet. ]
It's because we understand that we're wary, I'm sure. In any case, as much as I don't mind dim taverns either, I wouldn't turn down the occasion to experience a more refined establishment. And one at which the famous Jaskier used to perform!
[ It's difficult to tell how sincere she's being, and how much is teasing -- but perhaps it's a bit of both, judging by the warmth in her smile when he pats her shoulder as she stands. ]
Why, thank you. That is precisely the look I like to achieve at any given moment. [ She may be blushing, however. Just a little. Ciri adjusts her waistcoat, smoothing down the front and arranging the open lapels of her blouse over the top just enough to show cleavage. She might feel a tiny bit nervous and fidgety, and hopes it's not too fancy. At least not the stuffy boring kind. ]
[Even with their small amount of time together, despite how (most) of their first meeting had gone, Jaskier finds he gets along with Ciri rather naturally. Whether because, biting wit or not, she had far more care than she would have expected from anyone raised by a brutish Witcher, or because he appreciates the teasing just as much as he enjoys giving it back. It's easy to be around her, at least for Jaskier.
Most of the time. Though those times are through no fault of her own. He trusts her, but he still isn't --
He isn't all the Jaskier he used to be.]
You're lucky you're so good at flattery. You clearly learned it from me. [He grins, catching her flushing, and he offers his arm as a proper gentleman would. Though he only hopes Alice doesn't see and get the wrong idea -- that unfortunate sort of incident has happened before.
Of course, he has no idea if he was involved with Ciri's upbringing at all. It's fun to think about, though. He does wander, but there also feels like there should be some warning of... of asking too much of the future.
Considering what happened with Nilfgaard and all.]
You'll like this even more, then. Liquor is involved. [They step out into a warm, but quickly cooling day as it approaches sunset. The Tearoom is busy at all sorts of hours, but he's always found the "tropical" (or at least that's how they described it) atmosphere to be more appreciated at night. The low lights, the heavy air, and humidity from the tea -- it's all perfect.]
I'm sure you're quite old enough for it. Hah, I jest. [He points down a lane for them to walk down.] Can you imagine? I met a boy who said they made it a law that one had to be some arbitrary number to drink. As if they had the time to worry about that sort of thing. But he also fought heartless monsters and traveled between worlds, so who knows?
Oh, good! [ She laughs, relieved. ] That was going to be my next question. Tea is all right, but liquor is even better.
[ Ciri makes no protests against walking arm in arm with him. She lets him lead, taking the opportunity to look around with great interest at everything they pass on the street, making note of the path but also all the people, buildings, shops and stalls, all the new scents in the air and lively mix of chatter and music floating over from some unseen place.
Jaskier's joke doesn't land at first, but the explanation is even funnier. Ciri laughs again, eyebrows rising skeptically. ]
No! Really? That sounds ridiculous. How would such a thing even be determined? One can either hold one's liquor or one cannot, and in the latter case, it becomes clear enough quite quickly regardless of age or stature. [ She looks particularly interested in the second part as well. ]
But this boy... He could travel between worlds at will?
[Of course, he completely agrees! It's a fair guess, he thinks, from what he's learned about being around Ciri and from the man who trained her, that she's far more like to tend towards liquor than tea. (Not that it's stopped him from making far too many pots of tea at home, sometimes for all of them, when a nightmare's awakon him and he needs something to do.)
He grins.]
I haven't the faintest! It's utterly bizarre. I promised I'd sneak him some regardless.
[Roxas could hold his liquor, he bet. Probably.]
Oh, yes. Well, he says he can, and honestly, I do want to believe him. Roxas is his name. Lovely boy. [Far younger, he thinks, than any world-traveler should be. And yet already he sounded far beyond his years, with the courage to boot.] He says he fought monsters across worlds. The... er... Heartful. No. Heartless? I think it was literal. I'm not sure.
[She had meant to reach out to him some time ago, but the timing had never seemed right— even after everything with the Evergreen Circle had resolved, there was the business of the trouble of the Underground to be dealt with, and ignoring her own recovery, Karin had found most of her time consumed by making sure that Alice was able to weather the storm.
Still, she has not forgotten that there were others who suffered at the Circle's hand that she wishes to know are well, and she never forgets kindness. Jaskier had offered that in spades, in a situation where it would have been impossible for most, where anyone's spirits would have been utterly broken.]
Jaskier? I'm not sure if you remember me, but this is Karin. We met at-
[Jaskier starts because 1) messages to him are so rare, considering his best friends will never send him a nice note, and 2) he, of course, remembers her, but... also, trying to approach anything that reminds him of the Circle is. Difficult.
Even if things are wildly different now.
Even the smallest pause in her note gives him a little -- a little much, but he's glad to hear from her. Especially now, with he and Alice.]
Karin, of course I remember! It's wonderful to hear from you. I hope you're doing well.
[Ugh, it reads like some overly formal letter. Has Alice told her about him? He knows they must be quite close, especially with a Bond.]
Things have certainly been a lot. [What a way to put it. Now he's a Monster, his Bonds have changed, and he's sprouted horns. Lovely.] I've reconnected with a few I met... there. It seems we were all freed the same night. Did the Coven help you? Did you heal all right?
[Oh gods, don't get him started on his newest sweetheart. Karin really doesn't need to hear it. And didn't she mention they were Bonded? Haven't met both of them, actually... he thinks he can see it.
Though how Karin was under the Circle could be quite different than usual. Alice was, in some ways.]
I healed as well. There have been lasting consequences, unfortunately. Perhaps you understand what I mean.
[While she may not mean to get him started, it's difficult not to— mentioning Alice has become as natural to her as breathing at this point; her bondmate is frequently on her mind and she can't help but frequently bring her into conversations as she steadily works towards sorting out the complex nature of their relationship.]
She is. I don't know where I would be without her, honestly.
[For more reasons than the aid she had offered her in healing, of course.]
I do understand. You don't have to go into detail, if you don't want to. Something like that isn't exactly easy to just put behind you. I've been having dreams, myself.
[Karin's departure is just like Yuri's had been: she's gone like a ghost in the night.
This time, there's no frantic search or fear that something nefarious might have happened. From the moment Alice wakes and finds Karin not there, she knows. She feels it in her heart and soul, and it weighs heavily. Losing friends here has become familiar and easier to handle over time, but losing a beloved bondmate still hurts as badly as the first time.
At least Alice isn't alone in the house this morning. Rikku is downstairs, and they share a bittersweet breakfast together as they mourn and work through their respective feelings. The teenager is rather adept at handling loss (too much so, Alice thinks), and despite her clear sadness she encourages reflection on the positive. Alice isn't nearly as close to her as Karin is--was--but it's clear why her bondmate had taken such a shine to the girl. There are plenty of tears shed between them, certainly, but the company makes it easier not to drown in her own despair.
At the very least, it helps Alice remember that Karin has a destiny to fulfill. She can only pray that she finds love and joy within it.
Eventually, Rikku takes her leave of the house with a not-so-subtle hint that Alice do the same. It's a good idea, so she types out a message to someone she knows will be willing to be there for her. And, honestly, he's someone that she really wants to see right now.]
Are you free to meet?
Karin is gone, and I could use a shoulder.
[She keeps the message is simple and straight to the point intentionally, hoping to avoid a misunderstanding that might prompt Jaskier to panic needlessly. She can leave the pouring out of feelings for in person.]
[With Jaskier having began to firmly settle into his new, er, body, he's much more willing to go outside and lose himself in the joys that the city has always offered. There's a newfound confidence in the Aeternae strength -- one he's now tested with Geralt and found anything but wanting.
It's while he is at the tailor's getting several holes added to his clothing (for new, various parts) that he receives the message. Of course if it's Alice, his heart flutters, but as soon as he reads it --
He curses. Shit. Not Karin. He'd only just --]
Alice, of course. I'm near the shops, but I'll come get you.
He promises the tailor he'll return, scurrying along Aefenglom's roads towards the home she once shared with Karin. I can be there soon. When was it? This morning?
[The reply is mercifully quick, and positive. Part of Alice feels a bit bad for calling him away from whatever it was that he was doing, but the last thing she wants to be right now is alone.]
Thank you. And yes, she was gone this morning. She must have left sometime overnight.
[Alice sits, fiddling with the watch in her hands a little and taking a few steadying breaths, then stands. Better to stay busy so that she doesn't allow herself to devolve into a total mess before he even gets there. She starts to clean up from breakfast, wiping down far more diligently than is necessary so that there's no danger of her finishing too quickly.]
[It's lucky for this moment he's learned the roads through Aefenglom so well, and he's visited Alice's home as well. His boots move quickly as he keeps his tail tucked under an arm, ducking between other Monsters and their fellow witches. Even now, it's easy to see how the Aeternae have integrated with the rest of them -- them, and the other newcomers.
Some terrible part of him wonders if they are losing friends for this city to anticipate more.
When he reaches the cottage, his knocks are gentle. Not as if he definitely ran through town for her. She needs... possibly someone who is not also panicking.]
[By the time Jaskier arrives, Alice has stopped her cleaning and is sitting at the kitchen table. She'd come across the Turkish coffee set that Karin had inherited from Styx, and found she suddenly didn't have the heart to do much more than sit and let a few more tears fall. Karin had taken on the project of perfecting the method after Styx left, as a method to cope, and had just about accomplished it. Alice was even starting to kind of enjoy the bitter flavor of it, acquiring a taste for it because it was so important to her.
Alice is certain she won't follow in her bondmate's stead when it comes to coffee, and for some reason feels a bit guilty about it.
The knock pulls her out of herself, and Alice quickly wipes her tears away in a dishtowel before heading to the door. Still, the smile she gives Jaskier once she's opened it is a bit watery.]
[The wipe of her face was a solid effort, but the evidence of a few tears spilled is already so clear.] Oh, my dear.
[Thanking him? For coming after this? He pulls her in a tight embrace once the door closes behind him, squeezing her tight. It is not an easy thing, swallowing this. And Jaskier's losses have only been his friends -- even if they were very dear friends, in the short time he knew them. It is a far bitterer potion to swallow, to have a lover one day, to lose them the next.
Without a final word, or a note, or even a song.]
I'm here. [He's not sure it will make things better, but sorrow has always been easier for him to share with a friend.] You don't need to act as if it's all all right when it isn't. I know how much she means to you.
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cointosser) wrote2020-06-29 09:16 pm
text first. un: farron
Alone would have been a fine option, but the moment she's outside the door of the Patisserie, she remembers a promise she'd made to a certain bard, as thanks for his help. Of course, she was never one to go against her word, but why she'd thought of him at all is baffling to her... no way did his song or his persistent friendliness find its way past her walls, had they?
Nah.
She has a message typed up on her device that she reconsiders sending again and again. Minutes go by while her finger hovers on send, and she almost gets around to deleting and rewriting it entirely when—THWAP! The door of the Patisserie swings open and hits her from behind, knocking her forward. The customer apologizes profusely, and Lightning brushes them off with a snide comment about watching where they're going, immediately glancing down to look at her device again.
(Message sent.)
Damn it.
And in that moment, Jaskier will receive a half-written message:]
I still owe you that dri
[She doesn't even bother sending the rest. Too embarrassed.]
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Though he can admit that, so far, it hasn't been... terrible. It's been. Fine, actually.
Which is the most shocking part.
It is neither of his bonded, though. He doesn't recognize the name, but -- ah! Only one person owes him a drink. Offered by her, especially.]
Lightning, how lovely to hear from you. [Play it sweetly. Which wasn't hard for him; it came quite naturally. He had not failed to pick up that Lightning was a bit of a flighty thing, and if he went too strong at first she may flutter out of his reach.
So, drinks. With a. Friend.
(Hopefully not for long.)]
I've just the tavern where we can meet. Very good ale. [He types out the name, very pleased with himself he was adjusting to, how do you call... technology.] I'll only perform if you ask. Promise.
[Is he already heading over without an answer first? Well, absolutely. He can always use a drink, even if she... fails to show.]
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Lightning doesn't respond to his message though. Her showing up at the tavern is enough said without saying it—that she'd like to honour her promise and thank him for what he did for her so many weeks ago outside of the Patisserie.
Hopefully he's chosen a table near the back, away from the other patrons, because she arrives almost half an hour after he does, her apron crumpled into her pocket and her hairs astray after a day's work. When she finds Jaskier, she immediately slumps into the seat across from him.]
How long've you been here?
[Hi.]
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A conundrum, one might say.
One that, perhaps, shouldn't matter, as this was a meeting between friends. Of course. But that would not stop Jaskier's heart from wanting what it wanted, which was a beautiful, dangerous woman. His greatest weakness.
He had to take this lightly, he was beginning to think. To not overload her, or make the truth of his heart too quickly revealed. He might have complimented her with gifts -- a short ballad on her beauty, or a gift of silk or sugared fruit slices. He spent what extra time he had in beating her there in finding the right sort of bauble.
And then settled into a table that he imagines she'd like -- and it wasn't a hard choice, when he was long-used to picking dark, uncrowded tables to settle Geralt's needs as well. They were a bit alike, after all.
He perks up immediately, a genuine smile spreading across his face.] Not long at all, though I was happy to wait. [One never brings up the real time spent waiting to a lady, of course. He pulls a small, slim box from his pocket and slides it across the table. It's far from the ornate blade he carries himself; it's plain, and silver, and folds when it's not needed.] My friend got me something similar. I thought, perhaps, in case you find yourself at the wrong end of a monster, as I have. [He does hope she likes it. Or, worse, doesn't have something similar already.] Ready to drink?
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Okay, a little unnecessary, but not bad for a gift. At least he's good at picking them.
It's not all that different from the one that Serah had given her and she carries on her person at all times, but he doesn't need to know that. It's the thought that counts after all, and she tugs it out from its secure lining to examine it, twisting the blade in and out with an easy flick of her wrist. Her lips turn upwards, impressed by the quality, and as it glints in the dim lights of the tavern, she peers over its sharp end across the table.]
What do you recommend? It better be good, [as she points the tip of the knife at him, all with a smile that comes too easily.]
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Even for... drinks. Between. Friends. (Right.)
Friends who, dear gods. Threaten him in the sexiest way possible over the edge of a knife. His heart flutters like a horny little hummingbird. She cannot know the effect she has. Can she?]
I -- yes, of course. I have impeccable taste when it comes to ale. [And women. He may begin to sweat soon. So you like it? He stops himself from asking. One must never come across as too desperate. With her flirtatious smile, he's quite sure that's the case.] I hope you're prepared to be utterly drunk under the table. Bartender! Please, your finest ales! [The man behind the bar is clearly not happy at being shouted out across the room but, look. That's how they do it in the Continent.] Not to worry. I don't intend to need your saving grace with a cup of coffee afterward.
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Modranicht gift
Happy Modranicht! Let’s have another great year here in Aefenglom!
M⚜️
action, early april.
[ She's wearing decent clothing for walking about town, rather than for riding and running around outside -- a low-cut cream colored blouse and trim gray waistcoat, matching skirt slit up the thigh for movement, though not too immodestly. Hair down, braided over her shoulder, with her bangs carefully brushed down over the scarred side of her face. She even cleaned up her makeup a little and put on a bit of rouge and pink lipstick. The sword, naturally, stays, but she manages to pull it off.
Ciri leans a shoulder against the doorway, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow. ]
So what's this 'surprise' you keep overtly hinting at? What sort of place are you taking me to that I needed to get all dressed up?
I hope it's nowhere untoward.
[ That's mostly a joke. But it's Jaskier, so only mostly. ]
Re: action, early april.
Only because it's very relieving to have someone around who understands fashion.]
What is with all of you and a fear of surprises? Surely you understand what it means. [He turns with a smile once his waistcoat has been properly smoothed down, a bright silver chain around his neck with a bejeweled ring hanging from it. Unfortunate he can't wear it, but there's no reason not to show it off.]
It's a nice place. Not those dim sorts of taverns Geralt would take you to. [He pops a few proper rings on his fingers, and squats down next to his bed to peek at Burza, who hides underneath. Her eyes glow out at him, but she seems all right.] Not that I don't enjoy those, too.
[He stands, ready. It's the first time in a while he's found the energy to dress himself up, too. A good reason to show off one of the last pieces he received from his talented Faun tailor.] I don't want to know what sort of horrible preconceptions you have of me, thank you. [He huffs, but it's good-natured. Mostly. The sword at her side does give him pause, if only --
Well, Geralt trusts her. And he finds he does, too.] I used to work there, so don't embarrass me. [He pats her shoulder.] You look wonderful. And also like you could kill me. It's rather effective overall. Now, you like tea, don't you?
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It's because we understand that we're wary, I'm sure. In any case, as much as I don't mind dim taverns either, I wouldn't turn down the occasion to experience a more refined establishment. And one at which the famous Jaskier used to perform!
[ It's difficult to tell how sincere she's being, and how much is teasing -- but perhaps it's a bit of both, judging by the warmth in her smile when he pats her shoulder as she stands. ]
Why, thank you. That is precisely the look I like to achieve at any given moment. [ She may be blushing, however. Just a little. Ciri adjusts her waistcoat, smoothing down the front and arranging the open lapels of her blouse over the top just enough to show cleavage. She might feel a tiny bit nervous and fidgety, and hopes it's not too fancy. At least not the stuffy boring kind. ]
I like tea well enough, sure.
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Most of the time. Though those times are through no fault of her own. He trusts her, but he still isn't --
He isn't all the Jaskier he used to be.]
You're lucky you're so good at flattery. You clearly learned it from me. [He grins, catching her flushing, and he offers his arm as a proper gentleman would. Though he only hopes Alice doesn't see and get the wrong idea -- that unfortunate sort of incident has happened before.
Of course, he has no idea if he was involved with Ciri's upbringing at all. It's fun to think about, though. He does wander, but there also feels like there should be some warning of... of asking too much of the future.
Considering what happened with Nilfgaard and all.]
You'll like this even more, then. Liquor is involved. [They step out into a warm, but quickly cooling day as it approaches sunset. The Tearoom is busy at all sorts of hours, but he's always found the "tropical" (or at least that's how they described it) atmosphere to be more appreciated at night. The low lights, the heavy air, and humidity from the tea -- it's all perfect.]
I'm sure you're quite old enough for it. Hah, I jest. [He points down a lane for them to walk down.] Can you imagine? I met a boy who said they made it a law that one had to be some arbitrary number to drink. As if they had the time to worry about that sort of thing. But he also fought heartless monsters and traveled between worlds, so who knows?
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[ Ciri makes no protests against walking arm in arm with him. She lets him lead, taking the opportunity to look around with great interest at everything they pass on the street, making note of the path but also all the people, buildings, shops and stalls, all the new scents in the air and lively mix of chatter and music floating over from some unseen place.
Jaskier's joke doesn't land at first, but the explanation is even funnier. Ciri laughs again, eyebrows rising skeptically. ]
No! Really? That sounds ridiculous. How would such a thing even be determined? One can either hold one's liquor or one cannot, and in the latter case, it becomes clear enough quite quickly regardless of age or stature. [ She looks particularly interested in the second part as well. ]
But this boy... He could travel between worlds at will?
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He grins.]
I haven't the faintest! It's utterly bizarre. I promised I'd sneak him some regardless.
[Roxas could hold his liquor, he bet. Probably.]
Oh, yes. Well, he says he can, and honestly, I do want to believe him. Roxas is his name. Lovely boy. [Far younger, he thinks, than any world-traveler should be. And yet already he sounded far beyond his years, with the courage to boot.] He says he fought monsters across worlds. The... er... Heartful. No. Heartless? I think it was literal. I'm not sure.
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text (for now) | un: nibelung | 1/2
Still, she has not forgotten that there were others who suffered at the Circle's hand that she wishes to know are well, and she never forgets kindness. Jaskier had offered that in spades, in a situation where it would have been impossible for most, where anyone's spirits would have been utterly broken.]
Jaskier? I'm not sure if you remember me, but this is Karin. We met at-
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It's been some time, but I wanted to check in with you. See how you're doing. We've all been through a lot lately.
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Even if things are wildly different now.
Even the smallest pause in her note gives him a little -- a little much, but he's glad to hear from her. Especially now, with he and Alice.]
Karin, of course I remember! It's wonderful to hear from you. I hope you're doing well.
[Ugh, it reads like some overly formal letter. Has Alice told her about him? He knows they must be quite close, especially with a Bond.]
Things have certainly been a lot. [What a way to put it. Now he's a Monster, his Bonds have changed, and he's sprouted horns. Lovely.] I've reconnected with a few I met... there. It seems we were all freed the same night. Did the Coven help you? Did you heal all right?
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I've recovered well, yes, thank you. The Coven helped, but I feel like I owe Alice the lion's share of my gratitude.
[She's an excellent and dedicated healer, not to mention good company.]
And yourself? How are you feeling?
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[Oh gods, don't get him started on his newest sweetheart. Karin really doesn't need to hear it. And didn't she mention they were Bonded? Haven't met both of them, actually... he thinks he can see it.
Though how Karin was under the Circle could be quite different than usual. Alice was, in some ways.]
I healed as well. There have been lasting consequences, unfortunately. Perhaps you understand what I mean.
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She is. I don't know where I would be without her, honestly.
[For more reasons than the aid she had offered her in healing, of course.]
I do understand. You don't have to go into detail, if you don't want to. Something like that isn't exactly easy to just put behind you. I've been having dreams, myself.
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text (eventually); un: alice
This time, there's no frantic search or fear that something nefarious might have happened. From the moment Alice wakes and finds Karin not there, she knows. She feels it in her heart and soul, and it weighs heavily. Losing friends here has become familiar and easier to handle over time, but losing a beloved bondmate still hurts as badly as the first time.
At least Alice isn't alone in the house this morning. Rikku is downstairs, and they share a bittersweet breakfast together as they mourn and work through their respective feelings. The teenager is rather adept at handling loss (too much so, Alice thinks), and despite her clear sadness she encourages reflection on the positive. Alice isn't nearly as close to her as Karin is--was--but it's clear why her bondmate had taken such a shine to the girl. There are plenty of tears shed between them, certainly, but the company makes it easier not to drown in her own despair.
At the very least, it helps Alice remember that Karin has a destiny to fulfill. She can only pray that she finds love and joy within it.
Eventually, Rikku takes her leave of the house with a not-so-subtle hint that Alice do the same. It's a good idea, so she types out a message to someone she knows will be willing to be there for her. And, honestly, he's someone that she really wants to see right now.]
Are you free to meet?
Karin is gone, and I could use a shoulder.
[She keeps the message is simple and straight to the point intentionally, hoping to avoid a misunderstanding that might prompt Jaskier to panic needlessly. She can leave the pouring out of feelings for in person.]
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It's while he is at the tailor's getting several holes added to his clothing (for new, various parts) that he receives the message. Of course if it's Alice, his heart flutters, but as soon as he reads it --
He curses. Shit. Not Karin. He'd only just --]
Alice, of course. I'm near the shops, but I'll come get you.
He promises the tailor he'll return, scurrying along Aefenglom's roads towards the home she once shared with Karin. I can be there soon. When was it? This morning?
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Thank you. And yes, she was gone this morning. She must have left sometime overnight.
[Alice sits, fiddling with the watch in her hands a little and taking a few steadying breaths, then stands. Better to stay busy so that she doesn't allow herself to devolve into a total mess before he even gets there. She starts to clean up from breakfast, wiping down far more diligently than is necessary so that there's no danger of her finishing too quickly.]
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[It's lucky for this moment he's learned the roads through Aefenglom so well, and he's visited Alice's home as well. His boots move quickly as he keeps his tail tucked under an arm, ducking between other Monsters and their fellow witches. Even now, it's easy to see how the Aeternae have integrated with the rest of them -- them, and the other newcomers.
Some terrible part of him wonders if they are losing friends for this city to anticipate more.
When he reaches the cottage, his knocks are gentle. Not as if he definitely ran through town for her. She needs... possibly someone who is not also panicking.]
Alice?
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Alice is certain she won't follow in her bondmate's stead when it comes to coffee, and for some reason feels a bit guilty about it.
The knock pulls her out of herself, and Alice quickly wipes her tears away in a dishtowel before heading to the door. Still, the smile she gives Jaskier once she's opened it is a bit watery.]
Hello, Jaskier. Thank you.
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[Thanking him? For coming after this? He pulls her in a tight embrace once the door closes behind him, squeezing her tight. It is not an easy thing, swallowing this. And Jaskier's losses have only been his friends -- even if they were very dear friends, in the short time he knew them. It is a far bitterer potion to swallow, to have a lover one day, to lose them the next.
Without a final word, or a note, or even a song.]
I'm here. [He's not sure it will make things better, but sorrow has always been easier for him to share with a friend.] You don't need to act as if it's all all right when it isn't. I know how much she means to you.
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wrapping here!