[Alucard will admit he still feels on edge after all is said and done. Everyone is home. He's finishing work on the Hall and they can possibly reopen this month. Or the next. It depends on Jaskier's desires and planning.
But he's in the midst of helping Gideon with her new place as well, and it has enforced some very needed normalcy. As has cooking, which is what Alucard is about to start - a process that begins with gently placing Mog down on the floor from the counters, and moves on to getting glasses on the table in case Jaskier intends to lurk while he cooks. Which Aluard assumes will be the case when the bard shows up.]
[Jaskier can say, at least, he is no longer a shell of a man. He has lost, but he has gained back more than that. The house is both full and empty at once. Home feels disrupted; much, like he imagines, after the intrusion of a burglary or somesuch. A home that has its illusions of safety ruined.
He now travels with Mog constantly at his side -- moreso than even before -- as comfort. And it's no different even when it's just to bother Alucard. Or help him. They're a bit of the same thing. Mog is invited without a precise invitation.
Jaskier distracts the gryphon with a runaway ribbon, drawing him away from the tempting space between Alucard's legs. There is something to be said of the safety of a home when a dhampir is in it.
It's not lurking. More as if... he cannot yet find it in him to volunteer help.]
I have. Though I like to think it isn't complete nonsense... it is yet one more level of political theatre we shall have to suffer through. [He smiles.] I'll vote for you, should you be mad enough to throw your name in.
Don't be ridiculous. I'm ill suited and have no desire for it.
[Alucard shuffles towards the fridge, opening it to inspect what is within. There's leftover potatoes, lamb, he could possibly make that into a filling for a pie--]
[Of the joke, Alucard. Please. He's so desperately trying to hold onto his sanity through the use of ill-timed humor! And his gryphon. Who is currently trying his hardest to tangle himself permanently around the ribbon. Jaskier tugs it from the creature.
It's a point. He tips his head, scooping up the gryphon, to peer into the icebox next to Alucard. There's wine, too! There's always wine.] Normally, I would assume that is all it is. And I would be right. [And barring the fact he would consider it for himself -- if only so he could push a bit more influence for the Committee -- Jaskier himself is so bone-deep exhausted that the idea of peacocking, on purpose, makes him want to fall into bed.
He can do it easily on a good day. But he has not had a good day for half a season.] There is only this prickling in the back of my brain. I'm beginning to wonder if the governments of each faction may be understanding how much they underestimate the Summoned. That we found the people who were taken, and we saved those who could be saved, mostly without their help or guidance. The more of us who come here, the more power we will gain, and they will lose.
Perhaps this is their form of indulgence. If we are given some power through influence, we will become satisfied. That none will seek more.
[Mog wiggles until Jaskier releases him back onto the floor, where he begins to try to climb into the icebox.] It's only a theory, of course.
Oh, so you want me to just turn into a wolf and growl at every stupid idea I hear. Got it.
[He's trying to lean into the joke belatedly. He really is. But all of that is stopped as he has to gently shoo Mog away from the open ice box. Not for companion creatures!
Wordlessly, Alucard straightens up and closes the door. Nothing. He really should just go shopping.]
That's...actually not dissimilar to a remark Sten made to me about the previous nonsense. He suggested that as an overall category, the Summoned are undefined. Since we've not made it clear what we are and stand for as a collective, it is easier for others to paint with any color they like. Up to and including cult nonsense.
[He exhales, leaning against the icebox.]
This would be an opportunity to do that, although I still loathe the notion.
That would be quite fun. You need to stop raising all these ideal scenarios if you have no intention of following through.
[It's not entirely sarcasm. He thinks more fully sentient wolves should be involved in politics. They're more trustworthy.
Mog gives Alucard a reproachful look, then raises his tail and displays his rear end as he walks away quite purposefully; not because he was told to, because he wishes to tear apart the stuffed knitted fish Jaskier recently purchased for him in a spout of retail therapy (it had not helped much.)]
Really? [His eyes shine a little. Being compared to Sten, he thinks, is not such a terrible thing.] Oh. Well, that part isn't very lovely. [He sighs, too. A long, drawn out breath.]
Perhaps in time. If there are cycles to these elections, I am willing to attempt, to pick at it and see what reach such a position truly has. But not now. I simply... I simply cannot bear the thought of trying right now. I am far too tired.
[Alucard gives up. He takes the wine out and closes the box, aware he can make a soup if he just runs out for ten minutes. He'll live, and maybe he'll bring an offering for Mog as well.
For the time being though, he gathers glasses and then sits down at the table.]
I appreciate that Sten is what Geralt would be like if Geralt wasn't raised as he was. [So....basically like a normal person.] It isn't. It goes against so many preferences most summoned have. But I don't think he's wrong either.
[Alucard is ready to say more, but the bard throws him for a loop.] I thought you became a bard to escape politics.
[As if that would ever happen. Where would Jaskier find his fun then?
Jaskier moves out of the way, watching Alucard suffer a rather empty pantry and icebox with a sort of energy that reminds him of a cat deciding to chase a mouse. He smiles to himself. Alucard, he thinks, is not far off. If Geralt were not hardened by trauma and by the Continent itself, if the wolves had been free to be men and not monster-hunting killers, then --
Perhaps they could have found a place of calm happiness, as well.
Ever on the brink of war around them. It is how it goes, it seems, in every world.]
I don't think he's wrong. [So far, Sten has yet to be wrong about anything he's offered.] What? [Jaskier's gaze jerks over to him, a sharp laugh leaping out. Ah. Because of his name, his title? Oh, Melitele's sake, he'd never thought of such things as politics.] What on earth gave you that idea? I became a bard for fame and glory. Escaping the confines of family matters, and becoming bounds better than all of my pupils from university, were both simply bonuses.
[Once seated, Alucard pours out two glasses. Unsure of where Jaskier will end up, he holds out a glass lazily and waits for the bard to grab it whenever he so pleases.]
As you like. [Bullshit on the first one. Confines is the tell word.] I maintain my point that you considering involvement is a little bit of a surprise to my ears.
[If Alucard was less -- strict -- with himself and others, Jaskier would've kissed him the same moment he stole the glass. As it is, he only takes it with some minimal brushing of their fingers (required), and takes a long sip of some very good stuff.]
I detect a sense of sarcasm. [Or simply disbelief. Rude.
Then again, as time has gone on, it feels as if he has changed why he has done what he has over and over. Shifting memories, different desires. But it is true that the one thing he recalls desiring was... freedom.
Perhaps that's why the sandpipers appealed to him in the end. Freedom by the coast. Not only through the air, but the stretching sea as well.]
You know, the more you push the point, the more I'm beginning to second-guess myself. [He takes a seat as Mog scrabbles underneath a table to get the prime spot to stretch out right onto Jaskier's boot.] When you first met me, and for some time after, I was that sort of man. I would stay out of things. But the moment I decided to stay this world and make it my own, I suppose part of me... dare I say it? Matured.
[Jaskier is one of the few people whose touch doesn't make Alucard flinch out of instinct anymore. He doesn't even think about it. This is how the bard is, nothing more or less.
To Alucard's credit, he does listen to his friend's explanation. And...well duh. He's right. The Jaskier that pissed next to Alucard in the desert would be less likely to have opened an office with him. One that involves administrative work. And meetings.]
No, no. You're right. [Mog, pls.] You've taken on many more responsibilities since then. I think that bard I met just left such a particular impression on me at first go. Which is my fault, not yours. [Still, it is worrisome.]
Should you do this, you might open yourself up to more risks, like in Luna. Maybe you should hire Gideon to help with that.
Oh, the one who asked you to bite him? Unfortunately, that bard still exists. [His smile is teasing, nothing more, until he takes another gulp of drink. It's a strange thing to ponder -- it's only been less than two years now, he's quite sure, but with the time -- or, at least, the memories -- of the Continent he received, it's felt like so much longer.
He truly does feel like a different man. His priorities have shifted.
And, dare he also say it? He may understand people even better than he did before. The hardest, sharpest parts of people.]
I have considered asking her for her help before, it's true. [He sits back, as Mog makes a chirp of annoyance when he moves his boot.] And we still have no idea who is at fault. It would be easy to think it was those bloody cultists, but... I don't believe their strengths lay in the technology needed for another attempt.
[Gods, it says a lot about how he's changed that an assassination attempt barely lingers on his mind much. He's careful, of course, but... he has not allowed it to stop him from doing what he wishes, and going where he goes.] If I ever need another trip to Aquila, it's a fine idea.
That bard is going to be perpetually disappointed. [Alucard pauses, reaching under the table and wiggling his fingers at Mog. The creature is free to perch on his lap, if it so chooses.]
She's a good companion, but you already knew that. [Freely and honestly, he may as well add:] Although maybe I shouldn't be asking the two people I trust most to be in danger together.
[He takes a longer sip of wine at that particular realization, hardly realizing that he has drained half of the glass by pure accident. When he does, it is set down on the table to ensure he slows himself down.]
Explosions doesn't seem their style either. Regardless-- [Hell, he doesn't know where he's going with this.] Please be careful, should this be the path you stick with. Dabbling with actual politics sounds much riskier than what we're doing now.
Does he not know it. [Jaskier's still in good humour, of course; he also entertains the idea that if he has met one dhampir, he will surely meet another. Or a full vampire. One who will give in to his invitation and, hopefully, not kill him.
Mog, however, is getting invitations from every side. The gryphon is now long-used to Alucard's presence, being in their home, or the Old Public Hall, or at Alucard's comfortable abode -- or rather, his kitchen, which is where meetings often take place.
Now the office, thankfully.
Mog takes the gesture and scrambles his way onto Alucard's lap, tucking in against Alucard's arm.
Jaskier waves a hand.] Surprisingly, I might add, both of us are used to it. Besides, I did give her a bit of advice some time ago, and a part of me is eager to see if she listened.
[He does not mention the advice was "sleep with more people to be less stressed out." It's still groundbreaking advice.]
Hmph. [The warning isn't without merit.] I will. I've already promised Geralt to keep my nose out of trouble -- the sort that kills me, at least -- and I do intend to follow through. I've had enough of risking my life to last, well, a life. So it is being put to the side, for now. I have other pursuits I wish to pull my resources into. Like a more permanent location for selling my flowers.
--Lenore might indulge you, if you ever meet her in Nocwich. One of my father's people, red hair. She and Gideon are currently enjoying themselves together, although I don't know if that will factor into it.
[He's forgotten to mention to his friend that Lenore is around at all, which is an oversight. It'll be fine, and he is sure Jaskier will find all the time in the world to try and get bit.
In the here and now, there is reaching under Mog's chin to give scratchies. Alucard, ever the show off, extends his fingernails just a little so that they can be especially good for this task.]
Gideon will do as she sees fit. And I trust Geralt to hold you to that promise more than I do. [Still. It seems like this is a path Jaskier is sticking to. He'll need to help keep things quiet here, that is all.]
I think I've seen some for rent signs near Old Public Hall, actually.
[Jaskier's gaze turns only a hint skeptical because "one of my father's people" could mean a lot of things, especially considering the atrocities he heard about from Hector, at the hands of said people. However, he knows fully well his friend is not about to introduce him to a vampire who will eat him.
Alucard would miss him far too much.]
I didn't realize someone from your world was here. [And then he brightens, sudden, as he realizes something, completely detaching from their other, more important conversation. The heart remains fickle, but it remains devoted, too.] Did she arrive... with anyone else?
[Surely Alucard would tell him if Hector returned. But he can't help but hope the failure to mention it, too, was an oversight.
Ah. [His smile stays, but certainly the hope that accompanied fades. Well, it is about what he expected. After all, he hardly knows anyone who has made two appearances in Abraxas. It appears the Singularity's pull remains as wild and fickle as ever.]
No matter.
[No matters of the heart that move on, anyway.]
Rental spots, you say? I wouldn't mind being able to see the Hall on the way to work, so to speak. [As if he has any intention of mostly working there himself... no, this is simply a venture for more capitalism. And also something to do with the plants he keeps growing from practice.] I would invite you to dress up the place once I obtain it, but we both know how that went last time.
[If nothing else, Jaskier made Hector a better person. That counts for a lot, but--
--maybe that's Jaskier's ultimate hidden talent. Making people better.]
And if we ever need flower based decorations for an event, well, we have a supplier that's mercifully close by. Although I think that work will be handed off to other committee members and Hilda - she seems to have the right talent for it.
[RUDE???]
I wouldn't dare. Beyond our inability to agree, it is exclusively your shop.
It is not the first heartbreak he's been through. It only feels like this one is different. Unfair. A heart taken from him by the whims of powerful things that have no influence on.]
And I may be in a good enough mood to offer you a discount. [Obviously, he will. It costs him very little to grow his plants; a fact he's quite thankful for. It has always been a blessing that between him, Ciri, and Geralt, they basically provide themselves -- and many family friends -- all the produce and meat they need to survive.
And he gets to offer silly little gifts, like vanilla beans that sprout faster than they ever should.
Jaskier laughs.] And you think I don't value your opinions, despite our differences? [Except he still does hate all the angles.] You know, if there's any Summoned who must take over the Hall's future events, I think you have picked the most suitable one.
Oh, well, I'll just make myself into a wolf and have sad eyes in your direction until that is the case.
[Alucard grins. He knows he is cuter in that form. Easier to win over, and it's always funny to watch people react. Besides, Jaskier wouldn't say no to most things needed for the Hall. He knows that.]
I think you enjoy exaggerating the differences for comedic effect. [Which: same.]
You and I both agree on that, but I think she'll try to shy away from it if offered outright. I can work on it, then focus my attention on the theaters in Libertas.
close up around here? we can pop something into the new event
[It absolutely will, and it does, every single time. Somehow, Jaskier is still making up for the fact he'd pissed in front of the wolf (and nearly on him) over a year ago.]
Well --
[He's not wrong.] She's oddly modest, is she not? It's no matter. If she wants to take over, then she'll have to step up. Even if we must offer it in a more circuitous way. [And if Jaskier is skilled at anything...] The theatres! A grand pursuit, my friend. And one I will be happy to help you with, in the future, should you need further meddling.
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cointosser) wrote2021-04-12 08:58 pm
Pre-mini event
But he's in the midst of helping Gideon with her new place as well, and it has enforced some very needed normalcy. As has cooking, which is what Alucard is about to start - a process that begins with gently placing Mog down on the floor from the counters, and moves on to getting glasses on the table in case Jaskier intends to lurk while he cooks. Which Aluard assumes will be the case when the bard shows up.]
I assume you heard about the conclave nonsense?
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He now travels with Mog constantly at his side -- moreso than even before -- as comfort. And it's no different even when it's just to bother Alucard. Or help him. They're a bit of the same thing. Mog is invited without a precise invitation.
Jaskier distracts the gryphon with a runaway ribbon, drawing him away from the tempting space between Alucard's legs. There is something to be said of the safety of a home when a dhampir is in it.
It's not lurking. More as if... he cannot yet find it in him to volunteer help.]
I have. Though I like to think it isn't complete nonsense... it is yet one more level of political theatre we shall have to suffer through. [He smiles.] I'll vote for you, should you be mad enough to throw your name in.
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[Alucard shuffles towards the fridge, opening it to inspect what is within. There's leftover potatoes, lamb, he could possibly make that into a filling for a pie--]
What makes you think it won't be all theater?
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[Of the joke, Alucard. Please. He's so desperately trying to hold onto his sanity through the use of ill-timed humor! And his gryphon. Who is currently trying his hardest to tangle himself permanently around the ribbon. Jaskier tugs it from the creature.
It's a point. He tips his head, scooping up the gryphon, to peer into the icebox next to Alucard. There's wine, too! There's always wine.] Normally, I would assume that is all it is. And I would be right. [And barring the fact he would consider it for himself -- if only so he could push a bit more influence for the Committee -- Jaskier himself is so bone-deep exhausted that the idea of peacocking, on purpose, makes him want to fall into bed.
He can do it easily on a good day. But he has not had a good day for half a season.] There is only this prickling in the back of my brain. I'm beginning to wonder if the governments of each faction may be understanding how much they underestimate the Summoned. That we found the people who were taken, and we saved those who could be saved, mostly without their help or guidance. The more of us who come here, the more power we will gain, and they will lose.
Perhaps this is their form of indulgence. If we are given some power through influence, we will become satisfied. That none will seek more.
[Mog wiggles until Jaskier releases him back onto the floor, where he begins to try to climb into the icebox.] It's only a theory, of course.
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[He's trying to lean into the joke belatedly. He really is. But all of that is stopped as he has to gently shoo Mog away from the open ice box. Not for companion creatures!
Wordlessly, Alucard straightens up and closes the door. Nothing. He really should just go shopping.]
That's...actually not dissimilar to a remark Sten made to me about the previous nonsense. He suggested that as an overall category, the Summoned are undefined. Since we've not made it clear what we are and stand for as a collective, it is easier for others to paint with any color they like. Up to and including cult nonsense.
[He exhales, leaning against the icebox.]
This would be an opportunity to do that, although I still loathe the notion.
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[It's not entirely sarcasm. He thinks more fully sentient wolves should be involved in politics. They're more trustworthy.
Mog gives Alucard a reproachful look, then raises his tail and displays his rear end as he walks away quite purposefully; not because he was told to, because he wishes to tear apart the stuffed knitted fish Jaskier recently purchased for him in a spout of retail therapy (it had not helped much.)]
Really? [His eyes shine a little. Being compared to Sten, he thinks, is not such a terrible thing.] Oh. Well, that part isn't very lovely. [He sighs, too. A long, drawn out breath.]
Perhaps in time. If there are cycles to these elections, I am willing to attempt, to pick at it and see what reach such a position truly has. But not now. I simply... I simply cannot bear the thought of trying right now. I am far too tired.
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[Alucard gives up. He takes the wine out and closes the box, aware he can make a soup if he just runs out for ten minutes. He'll live, and maybe he'll bring an offering for Mog as well.
For the time being though, he gathers glasses and then sits down at the table.]
I appreciate that Sten is what Geralt would be like if Geralt wasn't raised as he was. [So....basically like a normal person.] It isn't. It goes against so many preferences most summoned have. But I don't think he's wrong either.
[Alucard is ready to say more, but the bard throws him for a loop.] I thought you became a bard to escape politics.
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Jaskier moves out of the way, watching Alucard suffer a rather empty pantry and icebox with a sort of energy that reminds him of a cat deciding to chase a mouse. He smiles to himself. Alucard, he thinks, is not far off. If Geralt were not hardened by trauma and by the Continent itself, if the wolves had been free to be men and not monster-hunting killers, then --
Perhaps they could have found a place of calm happiness, as well.
Ever on the brink of war around them. It is how it goes, it seems, in every world.]
I don't think he's wrong. [So far, Sten has yet to be wrong about anything he's offered.] What? [Jaskier's gaze jerks over to him, a sharp laugh leaping out. Ah. Because of his name, his title? Oh, Melitele's sake, he'd never thought of such things as politics.] What on earth gave you that idea? I became a bard for fame and glory. Escaping the confines of family matters, and becoming bounds better than all of my pupils from university, were both simply bonuses.
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As you like. [Bullshit on the first one. Confines is the tell word.] I maintain my point that you considering involvement is a little bit of a surprise to my ears.
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I detect a sense of sarcasm. [Or simply disbelief. Rude.
Then again, as time has gone on, it feels as if he has changed why he has done what he has over and over. Shifting memories, different desires. But it is true that the one thing he recalls desiring was... freedom.
Perhaps that's why the sandpipers appealed to him in the end. Freedom by the coast. Not only through the air, but the stretching sea as well.]
You know, the more you push the point, the more I'm beginning to second-guess myself. [He takes a seat as Mog scrabbles underneath a table to get the prime spot to stretch out right onto Jaskier's boot.] When you first met me, and for some time after, I was that sort of man. I would stay out of things. But the moment I decided to stay this world and make it my own, I suppose part of me... dare I say it? Matured.
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To Alucard's credit, he does listen to his friend's explanation. And...well duh. He's right. The Jaskier that pissed next to Alucard in the desert would be less likely to have opened an office with him. One that involves administrative work. And meetings.]
No, no. You're right. [Mog, pls.] You've taken on many more responsibilities since then. I think that bard I met just left such a particular impression on me at first go. Which is my fault, not yours. [Still, it is worrisome.]
Should you do this, you might open yourself up to more risks, like in Luna. Maybe you should hire Gideon to help with that.
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He truly does feel like a different man. His priorities have shifted.
And, dare he also say it? He may understand people even better than he did before. The hardest, sharpest parts of people.]
I have considered asking her for her help before, it's true. [He sits back, as Mog makes a chirp of annoyance when he moves his boot.] And we still have no idea who is at fault. It would be easy to think it was those bloody cultists, but... I don't believe their strengths lay in the technology needed for another attempt.
[Gods, it says a lot about how he's changed that an assassination attempt barely lingers on his mind much. He's careful, of course, but... he has not allowed it to stop him from doing what he wishes, and going where he goes.] If I ever need another trip to Aquila, it's a fine idea.
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She's a good companion, but you already knew that. [Freely and honestly, he may as well add:] Although maybe I shouldn't be asking the two people I trust most to be in danger together.
[He takes a longer sip of wine at that particular realization, hardly realizing that he has drained half of the glass by pure accident. When he does, it is set down on the table to ensure he slows himself down.]
Explosions doesn't seem their style either. Regardless-- [Hell, he doesn't know where he's going with this.] Please be careful, should this be the path you stick with. Dabbling with actual politics sounds much riskier than what we're doing now.
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Mog, however, is getting invitations from every side. The gryphon is now long-used to Alucard's presence, being in their home, or the Old Public Hall, or at Alucard's comfortable abode -- or rather, his kitchen, which is where meetings often take place.
Now the office, thankfully.
Mog takes the gesture and scrambles his way onto Alucard's lap, tucking in against Alucard's arm.
Jaskier waves a hand.] Surprisingly, I might add, both of us are used to it. Besides, I did give her a bit of advice some time ago, and a part of me is eager to see if she listened.
[He does not mention the advice was "sleep with more people to be less stressed out." It's still groundbreaking advice.]
Hmph. [The warning isn't without merit.] I will. I've already promised Geralt to keep my nose out of trouble -- the sort that kills me, at least -- and I do intend to follow through. I've had enough of risking my life to last, well, a life. So it is being put to the side, for now. I have other pursuits I wish to pull my resources into. Like a more permanent location for selling my flowers.
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[He's forgotten to mention to his friend that Lenore is around at all, which is an oversight. It'll be fine, and he is sure Jaskier will find all the time in the world to try and get bit.
In the here and now, there is reaching under Mog's chin to give scratchies. Alucard, ever the show off, extends his fingernails just a little so that they can be especially good for this task.]
Gideon will do as she sees fit. And I trust Geralt to hold you to that promise more than I do. [Still. It seems like this is a path Jaskier is sticking to. He'll need to help keep things quiet here, that is all.]
I think I've seen some for rent signs near Old Public Hall, actually.
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Alucard would miss him far too much.]
I didn't realize someone from your world was here. [And then he brightens, sudden, as he realizes something, completely detaching from their other, more important conversation. The heart remains fickle, but it remains devoted, too.] Did she arrive... with anyone else?
[Surely Alucard would tell him if Hector returned. But he can't help but hope the failure to mention it, too, was an oversight.
He'll get back to the other thing soon enough.]
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[Alucard's knows that his feelings about Hector will never be the same as Jaskier's. He can at least be kind about this.]
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No matter.
[No matters of the heart that move on, anyway.]
Rental spots, you say? I wouldn't mind being able to see the Hall on the way to work, so to speak. [As if he has any intention of mostly working there himself... no, this is simply a venture for more capitalism. And also something to do with the plants he keeps growing from practice.] I would invite you to dress up the place once I obtain it, but we both know how that went last time.
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[If nothing else, Jaskier made Hector a better person. That counts for a lot, but--
--maybe that's Jaskier's ultimate hidden talent. Making people better.]
And if we ever need flower based decorations for an event, well, we have a supplier that's mercifully close by. Although I think that work will be handed off to other committee members and Hilda - she seems to have the right talent for it.
[RUDE???]
I wouldn't dare. Beyond our inability to agree, it is exclusively your shop.
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It is not the first heartbreak he's been through. It only feels like this one is different. Unfair. A heart taken from him by the whims of powerful things that have no influence on.]
And I may be in a good enough mood to offer you a discount. [Obviously, he will. It costs him very little to grow his plants; a fact he's quite thankful for. It has always been a blessing that between him, Ciri, and Geralt, they basically provide themselves -- and many family friends -- all the produce and meat they need to survive.
And he gets to offer silly little gifts, like vanilla beans that sprout faster than they ever should.
Jaskier laughs.] And you think I don't value your opinions, despite our differences? [Except he still does hate all the angles.] You know, if there's any Summoned who must take over the Hall's future events, I think you have picked the most suitable one.
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[Alucard grins. He knows he is cuter in that form. Easier to win over, and it's always funny to watch people react. Besides, Jaskier wouldn't say no to most things needed for the Hall. He knows that.]
I think you enjoy exaggerating the differences for comedic effect. [Which: same.]
You and I both agree on that, but I think she'll try to shy away from it if offered outright. I can work on it, then focus my attention on the theaters in Libertas.
close up around here? we can pop something into the new event
[It absolutely will, and it does, every single time. Somehow, Jaskier is still making up for the fact he'd pissed in front of the wolf (and nearly on him) over a year ago.]
Well --
[He's not wrong.] She's oddly modest, is she not? It's no matter. If she wants to take over, then she'll have to step up. Even if we must offer it in a more circuitous way. [And if Jaskier is skilled at anything...] The theatres! A grand pursuit, my friend. And one I will be happy to help you with, in the future, should you need further meddling.