cointosser | AEF - IC INBOX.

[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.]

Edited 2020-10-11 09:42 (UTC)

[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.]

How long've you been here?

[Hi.]

[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.

[Again, with the coffee!]

Maybe you just haven't found the right cup yet, but you're not gonna find it here in a tavern.

[She folds the blade away, nodding in silent thanks at the bartender, because at least one of them has to be polite to the man serving them their drinks! In Bodhum, they don't shout at the person tending bar either, but with his displeased look, it's obvious this is quite the culture shock for him.

Lightning brings Jaskier's attention back to the knife again... without sticking the pointy end at him this time.]

Thanks... for this. [Don't know what the occasion is. She folds the blade away and carries it gently in the palm of her hand.] Reminds me of the one my sister gave me.

Edited 2020-10-24 22:33 (UTC)

[She has no idea he now drinks it almost daily. Though that's mostly because it's very good with milk and a bit of honey, he's found. Especially good for all of those nights he's spent poring over magic books he can only half-understand. Well. Three-fourths, about now.

Having a drink with a friend(?) is a bit of nice respite, to be honest.

Jaskier waves a hand. No need to thank him, of course. A gift is a gift. He's simply pleased that it works for her. Far more, he imagines, than a single flower would have (though he has rather nice ones beginning to bloom in his garden.)] Ah! You have a sister? That must be lovely. [He perks up with a smile. A chance to learn more! How could he turn it down?] I imagine... she's not here, is she?

Edited 2020-10-28 07:53 (UTC)

[One of the best ways to get points with Lightning? Let her gush about her sister.]

She's not. Far as I know, no idea what's going on back home either.

[Last she checked, Serah was still a crystal... but hopefully not for much longer. She's still holding out hope that what she said to Snow is true—that they'll both see her again soon. If it means that she has to wait months here to do it, then that's fine, as long as there's still the promise that she'll be returning.]

Too bad she isn't. I think you two would be good friends.

[She isn't even pulling his leg on that.]

AEF - IC INBOX.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject