[After he all but stumbles onto these sneakily given gifts, Jaskier is, in fact, inclined to agree. The only thing is, he's not sure why they're there.
Or why he has to make a small yell as the bird suddenly fans out all of these giant, brilliant white feathers to chase him with a horrible screech.] E-excuse me, sir! Would you quit --!
[Eventually he flashes up a bunch of worms to distract the bird, plucking up the note to read it. Then his eyes go back to the bird. Then back to the note.
Christmas. Yule. As Nadine explained. Holy shit.
As the bird gobbles up the bugs with a quiet squawking in between, Jaskier goes through all of the gifts with a quiet warmth in his chest. The large, round things that smell absolutely heavenly. (He learns, very quickly, they are not meant for eating.) However! The small, brown, sweet things? Definitely for eating. And it's only after one all but melts in his mouth he realizes this must be chocolate -- a rare delicacy he's only had in courts and as prizes for very fine arts festivals. They are thoughtful, wonderful gifts. More than he believes he should be getting from a woman he's only met in a dreamscape.
Julie, in time, will find her own note waiting in her domain. He cannot, after all, be outdone.
This holiday is a new one for me, so hopefully the gifts are suitable.
These are one of the rarest creatures on our world, if they even exist at all. Supremely powerful, deadly, and outrageously intelligent. Some akin them to gods. While they're said to only appear to the pure -- and I'm sure neither of us can claim that category -- this one will make an exception.
He will keep you safe, should you need to be here. As a bonus, he's quite handy for delivering letters.
And sure enough, that very note is sticking out of a saddle bag attached to a hand-sized black unicorn, with a iridescent shine reminiscent of a black pearl. The creature bows its head when Julie approaches, offering the note, sharp hooves clicking across the bar countertop. Bright yellow buttercups are braided into his mane, blooming across his flanks. Accompanying the simulacrum of a god is a simple bottle of wine that he made himself, with a label of two birds in flight, locked by their claws, titled Flight of the Sun. To the side lays a very fancy strawberry tart, guarded diligently by its horned protector.
P.S.
Lukasz would like you to know he does not, in fact, peck. But by the gods, he does bite.
And screams.
I adore him. Thank you.
- Julian Alfred Pankratz, or your esteemed and very flattered friend, Jaskier
no subject
Or why he has to make a small yell as the bird suddenly fans out all of these giant, brilliant white feathers to chase him with a horrible screech.] E-excuse me, sir! Would you quit --!
[Eventually he flashes up a bunch of worms to distract the bird, plucking up the note to read it. Then his eyes go back to the bird. Then back to the note.
Christmas. Yule. As Nadine explained. Holy shit.
As the bird gobbles up the bugs with a quiet squawking in between, Jaskier goes through all of the gifts with a quiet warmth in his chest. The large, round things that smell absolutely heavenly. (He learns, very quickly, they are not meant for eating.) However! The small, brown, sweet things? Definitely for eating. And it's only after one all but melts in his mouth he realizes this must be chocolate -- a rare delicacy he's only had in courts and as prizes for very fine arts festivals. They are thoughtful, wonderful gifts. More than he believes he should be getting from a woman he's only met in a dreamscape.
Julie, in time, will find her own note waiting in her domain. He cannot, after all, be outdone.
This holiday is a new one for me, so hopefully the gifts are suitable.
These are one of the rarest creatures on our world, if they even exist at all. Supremely powerful, deadly, and outrageously intelligent. Some akin them to gods. While they're said to only appear to the pure -- and I'm sure neither of us can claim that category -- this one will make an exception.
He will keep you safe, should you need to be here. As a bonus, he's quite handy for delivering letters.
And sure enough, that very note is sticking out of a saddle bag attached to a hand-sized black unicorn, with a iridescent shine reminiscent of a black pearl. The creature bows its head when Julie approaches, offering the note, sharp hooves clicking across the bar countertop. Bright yellow buttercups are braided into his mane, blooming across his flanks. Accompanying the simulacrum of a god is a simple bottle of wine that he made himself, with a label of two birds in flight, locked by their claws, titled Flight of the Sun. To the side lays a very fancy strawberry tart, guarded diligently by its horned protector.
P.S.
Lukasz would like you to know he does not, in fact, peck. But by the gods, he does bite.
And screams.
I adore him. Thank you.
- Julian Alfred Pankratz, or
your esteemed and very flattered friend,
Jaskier