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.
Roxas. [ she repeats, committing the name to memory. ] I should like to meet him. A traveler of worlds and monster hunter, at that. He sounds quite impressive.
[ And they might have a bit in common. She's definitely very curious. ]
Introduce me someday, Jaskier.
[ But, for now, they have other things on the docket. ]
Say, this tea tavern we're headed to... You said you used to work there? I hope you left amicably, and that I'm not about to get a cupful of tea in the face from some lady or other for walking in arm in arm with you.
Well of course, my dear! I promise, I have plenty of friends to introduce you to.
[Oh, that makes him sound a bit like a braggart. Too late now! Besides, it was not an untruth. His staying in one place so long certainly gave him the opportunity and, well, he knows what it feels like to be thrust into a new world without many acquaintances to rely on.
Though Ciri had it easier with the Witcher, the Sorceress, and he. But he was glad for that.
And they had many fun plans for the future. It would be very nice to have company who wasn't so... stiff. Or frightening. No offense, Bonded.
As they walk, he expects a question. It's innocent enough, but it makes his fingers curl tight enough for his nails to bit into his palm.] Yes, of course. I'm no bard who burns bridges. [It's a fair thing to think about him, of course, but he'd loved the work there. (And the only one likely to do so was maybe Lightning.)] Something... came up, and I needed a recess. From that sort of work. [But it's Jaskier, and he can't let his reactions taint the levity.] Ciri, I'm beginning to wonder if you think the worst of me. I haven't even had a chance to disappoint you yet!
[ As they walk so close together, Ciri can feel the sudden tension in his body, belied by his smile. She glances over to catch Jaskier's eyes.
She hadn't meant to insult, and certainly not actually to hurt him. It's just the sort of banter that he usually brushes off, as is his nature to fall in love quickly and often.
Ciri lifts her opposite hand to pet his arm above where they've linked elbows. ]
I never said that! Just want to make sure we're not giving any of your paramours the wrong idea.
[ He didn't mention why he needed a... recess. Something about it is bothering Ciri, the way she sees him tense or act frightened at nothing, even sometimes the way Geralt interacts with Jaskier, but she feels as though she shouldn't ask. Maybe it's a past she isn't meant to know about. She hates not knowing, feeling like a friend or family one moment and a stranger the next, but she's resigned herself to getting used to it for now. Especially with Yennefer still gone... Her absence stings, and Ciri doesn't want to accidentally chase away either Geralt or Jaskier by pushing too hard. ]
[He doesn't hold her gaze for long, his eyes flitting away. He's not trying to lie so much as dance around the truth. He's not sure what telling her will mean. It certainly changes nothing, but he knows, simply by the look she gives him, that she must be wondering.
It's almost surprising she simply doesn't ask. It would, actually, be simpler if she did.
And yet, would he say it? He's had a long time to trust Geralt. Yennefer, less so, but she was... there. To save him. And though he trusts the princess already, it's --
Fuck. It's a burden that there's no point in sharing.]
Hmm, is that so? [He smiles, flicking his gaze back at her.] I never realized you such a champion for the broken-hearted. Is that what Geralt taught you all that time, or did you pick it up somewhere else? If you're not careful, you'll be having ballads written about you soon enough.
More like a champion for my own peace of mind. Don't overthink it.
I don't need any ballads.
[ Now she feels like she's made things awkward, somehow. Ciri fights the urge to pull her arm away. Not even sure what's happened, Ciri decides to steer the conversation away from Geralt and the potential for more discomfort and to something hopefully easier and more familiar to them both. ]
So tell me, what is your favorite drink at this place you're taking me to? What do you recommend?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cointosser) wrote2020-06-29 09:16 pm
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?
no subject
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.
no subject
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?
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
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.
no subject
[ And they might have a bit in common. She's definitely very curious. ]
Introduce me someday, Jaskier.
[ But, for now, they have other things on the docket. ]
Say, this tea tavern we're headed to... You said you used to work there? I hope you left amicably, and that I'm not about to get a cupful of tea in the face from some lady or other for walking in arm in arm with you.
no subject
[Oh, that makes him sound a bit like a braggart. Too late now! Besides, it was not an untruth. His staying in one place so long certainly gave him the opportunity and, well, he knows what it feels like to be thrust into a new world without many acquaintances to rely on.
Though Ciri had it easier with the Witcher, the Sorceress, and he. But he was glad for that.
And they had many fun plans for the future. It would be very nice to have company who wasn't so... stiff. Or frightening. No offense, Bonded.
As they walk, he expects a question. It's innocent enough, but it makes his fingers curl tight enough for his nails to bit into his palm.] Yes, of course. I'm no bard who burns bridges. [It's a fair thing to think about him, of course, but he'd loved the work there. (And the only one likely to do so was maybe Lightning.)] Something... came up, and I needed a recess. From that sort of work. [But it's Jaskier, and he can't let his reactions taint the levity.] Ciri, I'm beginning to wonder if you think the worst of me. I haven't even had a chance to disappoint you yet!
no subject
She hadn't meant to insult, and certainly not actually to hurt him. It's just the sort of banter that he usually brushes off, as is his nature to fall in love quickly and often.
Ciri lifts her opposite hand to pet his arm above where they've linked elbows. ]
I never said that! Just want to make sure we're not giving any of your paramours the wrong idea.
[ He didn't mention why he needed a... recess. Something about it is bothering Ciri, the way she sees him tense or act frightened at nothing, even sometimes the way Geralt interacts with Jaskier, but she feels as though she shouldn't ask. Maybe it's a past she isn't meant to know about. She hates not knowing, feeling like a friend or family one moment and a stranger the next, but she's resigned herself to getting used to it for now. Especially with Yennefer still gone... Her absence stings, and Ciri doesn't want to accidentally chase away either Geralt or Jaskier by pushing too hard. ]
no subject
It's almost surprising she simply doesn't ask. It would, actually, be simpler if she did.
And yet, would he say it? He's had a long time to trust Geralt. Yennefer, less so, but she was... there. To save him. And though he trusts the princess already, it's --
Fuck. It's a burden that there's no point in sharing.]
Hmm, is that so? [He smiles, flicking his gaze back at her.] I never realized you such a champion for the broken-hearted. Is that what Geralt taught you all that time, or did you pick it up somewhere else? If you're not careful, you'll be having ballads written about you soon enough.
no subject
More like a champion for my own peace of mind. Don't overthink it.
I don't need any ballads.
[ Now she feels like she's made things awkward, somehow. Ciri fights the urge to pull her arm away. Not even sure what's happened, Ciri decides to steer the conversation away from Geralt and the potential for more discomfort and to something hopefully easier and more familiar to them both. ]
So tell me, what is your favorite drink at this place you're taking me to? What do you recommend?