Imagine, healing being forbidden. The people capable of magic are quite limited in my sphere -- it's more a naturally occurring talent -- but the idea that healing should ever be looked down upon seems rather awful.
[Jaskier pulls out a chair from the dining room table for his new friend, gesturing to it. He sets the kettle to heat, searching for a matching pair of cups and tea packets. It's the way, after all. One must never tell stories with a dry throat, and -- well, Jayce doesn't seem the type to immediately go to wine.]
Then take a seat. We have naught to do while we wait. [And he doesn't mind gossiping about Geralt. He's built a career out of it, after all.] Blacksmithing work, I imagine? [Not a hard guess. The kettle whistles as he pours out it into a pot hand-painted with birds.] In some ways, he very much is. Perhaps "comfortable" is not the right term. It's more like... he knows who he is, and what he is, and does not doubt either. It's a rather attractive quality, isn't it?
[As he pours their cups, he takes a seat himself, leaving a pot with further brewing tea between them.] Well, let me tell you how we met. It began in a town called Posada.
[And so he tells the tale. The chance meeting in a shitty tavern in Posada; the hunt of a devil that Jaskier happily invites himself into. Their capture by the King of the Elves. Geralt's silvver tongue. Filivadrel's lute.
It is a good way to spend the time, because as he talks, he can't focus on worrying. And he makes sure to spin it entertainingly enough that, if not his full focus, than at least half of Jayce's focus is on him so he doesn't roil himself up too much, either.]
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cointosser) wrote2021-04-12 08:58 pm
wrap it up here? :>
[Jaskier pulls out a chair from the dining room table for his new friend, gesturing to it. He sets the kettle to heat, searching for a matching pair of cups and tea packets. It's the way, after all. One must never tell stories with a dry throat, and -- well, Jayce doesn't seem the type to immediately go to wine.]
Then take a seat. We have naught to do while we wait. [And he doesn't mind gossiping about Geralt. He's built a career out of it, after all.] Blacksmithing work, I imagine? [Not a hard guess. The kettle whistles as he pours out it into a pot hand-painted with birds.] In some ways, he very much is. Perhaps "comfortable" is not the right term. It's more like... he knows who he is, and what he is, and does not doubt either. It's a rather attractive quality, isn't it?
[As he pours their cups, he takes a seat himself, leaving a pot with further brewing tea between them.] Well, let me tell you how we met. It began in a town called Posada.
[And so he tells the tale. The chance meeting in a shitty tavern in Posada; the hunt of a devil that Jaskier happily invites himself into. Their capture by the King of the Elves. Geralt's silvver tongue. Filivadrel's lute.
It is a good way to spend the time, because as he talks, he can't focus on worrying. And he makes sure to spin it entertainingly enough that, if not his full focus, than at least half of Jayce's focus is on him so he doesn't roil himself up too much, either.]
Thumbs up!