[ semi-open ] my place amongst the stars.

[vixening]

Who: yennefer of vengerberg, various, and open.
Where: Castle Thorne, various locations therein, including the horizon.
When: post-jailbreak, month of september.
What: now that yennefer has been (rightfully) welcomed as a guest, it is about time she meets the rest of her peers within the castle.
Warnings: N/A, will add if needed

CLOSED STARTERS BELOW.

OPEN TO ALL IN CASTLE THORNE.

[ now that yennefer has been (rightfully) welcomed as a guest, she walks the halls with a kind of up-right pride. the castle is about what she expects it to be, grand and made of stone, filled with equal amounts of intelligent folk she needs to keep track of as well as idiots with whom she doesn't give more than a passing glance. it's actually quite freeing, really, to have her magic at her fingertips once again. to feel like she doesn't need to use what she can because it could be fleeting. it gives her a confidence and an ease that, perhaps, shouldn't come so quickly to her given that she has spent most of her time down in the dungeons below, and yet it does suit her as she becomes familiar with the halls around her - searching rooms, spending time in halls, learning where the great hall is compared to the library compared to her own quarters.

as her schedule is somewhat settled, yennefer finds herself spending some time in the library amongst the other mages, her reactions towards them ranging from mentor-ly to bored to at some times even cross, depending on how much they annoy her that day. she understands that they are still learning, but it becomes increasingly obvious to her how little ambrose has anything to do with their studies. at least, not directly.

her biggest goal, now, is to feel settled in this new court. it is not her first time, doing so, and it is with that experience that she approaches her involvement in it. to find out as much as she can, to become assimilated, to avoid talking about - in any way - how her time here began in the cells below.

yennefer can be found in the library, practicing and studying the magic of this realm compared to her own. other times she can be found conversing with the native thorneans in the main halls, coming across as curious and respectful as she finds her place among the many customs and rules. other times, she could even be found wandering the gardens, just for a breath of fresh air, every now and then seeming lost in thought. if approached, she will appear friendly, especially if approached by fellow welcomed guests. it is up to the conversation itself if it stays that way. ]

Comments

{ closed to ronan and kylo.

[vixening]

[ yennefer had been careful, after the interrogations with jolene and subsequent decisions made to allow the guests back to the rooms, or - in her case - to allow her up as a welcomed guest with only so much as apologies for a mistake. still, yennefer takes her time with it all, exploring and listening in, finding out what she can from the staff and people of the court (insofar as she can stand to be around them - thankfully, their conversations are brief). she tries to imagine what it all looked like with the higher numbers. more out of place faces among those native here.

granted, she doesn't really care, and she knows the energy and patience she has to expend here is limited and will most likely run out sooner rather than later, so she does what she can as soon as she can.

it's another day or so before yennefer decides that she needs to search out the other with whom she fought with. there was a long list of reasons for it, should anyone ask, but the truth of the matter is that she's curious. curious, what drove them to stand alongside ambrose. curious, what motivates them now that their numbers have all dwindled. she knows their names, by the time she gets to this point - ronan lynch and kylo ren. two close protectors, two figures that no one - not a single person yennefer has run into - is surprised they were included in the fight.

she finds ronan first, though from what she has heard, kylo will be close by. she approaches him in a moment where it makes the most sense - he's either finished an earlier conversation or simply appears the most approachable (as he can get, really). it's a specific choice to bypass the pleasantries, something about her expression actually curious, rather than whatever shit she's been pulling with the native people. ]

Your sword, from before. [ the magic is evident in the air around him, so much that she can feel it. can swear she can taste it in the space around him. there's more to him than just the sword, she's sure, but that is the point she starts with. ] I've never seen one like that before. Did you make it?

[nightwash]

[ Since the attack, it's become rare to encounter any of the other summoned guests wandering around the castle. Most of the people who approach him now are Thorneans fawning over him in gratitude, which was nice at first, but it's become increasingly uncomfortable. Compliments make Ronan edgy, and he's about to brush Yennefer off before he realizes she's not just another courtier. ]

Yeah.

[ Sort of, yeah. He did make this one. Arguably he made the original, too. Not that she needs the particular details. She probably just wants to know if he can make one for her, too. ]

I don't think most people have seen anything like it.

[photophobic]

[Looming is a term generally applied when you're significantly taller than everyone else— but somehow, despite there being little more than an inch between their heights, Kylo manages to loom in a vaguely ominous fashion behind Ronan. Perhaps it's the broad span of his shoulders, or the particularly intense lock of his gaze. Or, possibly, his vague annoyance that no-one's mentioned his magnificent enchanted blade (also a gift from Ronan, a medieval fantasy spin on the laser sword original).]

Ronan is an exceptionally capable swordsmith. Among other things.

[Behave, Ronan, he didn't mean that. He didn't not mean it, but still. Behave. He examines Yennefer's face curiously.]

You must have arrived in the second wave of summonings. I'm glad to see our hosts saw fit to release you for your service.

[vixening]

[ not another courtier, no. definitely not. rather than a compliment, there's something heavier and more distinct about her. no, ronan, she is not another thornean looking to fawn over his great deeds. she wants to know how, instead. there is a kind of intense curiosity to her, though her expression remains comparatively neutral.

she is about to ask about it, too. the sword, the craftsmanship, the magic, but that is when her attention shifts to the second figure - kylo ren, imposing and significant in his own right. yennefer remembers them both from the altercation, and if either of them are paying close enough attention, they can make out to an excited flash that crosses her eyes. less from them as people, really, and more from the sudden feeling that shifts in the air. the distinct edge to the chaos around them all.

it's power, pure and simple. ]

Apparently. [ her eyes do shift then, just for the span of a moment, to kylo's own blade. because alright, he has every reason to be annoyed that no one has given his the attention it deserves. she remembers seeing it at work, remembers the feeling in the air around it. ] And I find the average person's understanding of magic to be dull and not worth my time. [ which is said in direct reply to ronan's most people comment as she waves dismissively towards the great hall. she doesn't really enjoy being lumped in with most people, but she can hold her pleasant smile all the same. ]

Ah- yes. Well. I was in something of a state when I first arrived, and as Jolene explained it- mistakes can happen, though unlikely. [ there is a gentle shrug of her shoulders, at that. things she could say about how she feels about their hosts and what they saw fit, but she doesn't so much as let herself feel frustrated. it's not worth her effort or time, when there are other things holding her attention. ]

My name is Yennefer. It's nice to officially meet. [ she gives them both a nod, in lieu of any other formal greeting, before her expression shifts to something a bit more genuinely interested. she looks between them, making it obvious her following question is for them both. ] Your abilities. Did you learn them during your stay here, or have you both always been able to access them?

[nightwash]

[ Ronan casts a glance at Kylo, although he behaves himself and doesn't make the obvious joke. Certainly not in the presence of a lady. But there's more to that look than suppressed amusement. He takes that moment to gauge Kylo's reaction to Yennefer, whether there's any suspicion there. It's not quite a silent request for permission to speak, although it might look like one. Whether he means to or not, Ronan always assumes a deferential position in Kylo's presence.

Apparently he decides there's no danger here, because when he turns back to Yennefer, he answers frankly: ]

I was born like this.

{ closed to ralston.

[vixening]

kneeslides in here

[brittlest]

[Gossip is a strange beast when one wears a shackle, whether that cuff be invisible or otherwise. You are either so unimportant as to be trusted with all manner of incidental little information—the receptacle into which any John or Jane might dump their most petty complaints about their least favorite scullery maid; the latest news from the simple world beyond the castle's walls; an account of all things pedestrian—, or require such delicate handling that not even the subject of the weather constitutes a safe topic of debate. There is no between state.

Not that he needs to be terribly well connected to overhear what a certain someone has to say about the morning they'd spent in the execution yard. No, she has cleverly wagged her tongue well enough to make what she saw and did in that hour all but bulletproof, hasn't she?

(They hang people here, Ralston reminds himself. Or perhaps the firing squad simply remains the work of the field and has yet to come in vogue for observation by the public. It is a messy business, and what is Thorne if not evidently somewhat concerned with appearances.)]

Is Vengerberg a place or an order?

[She's had worse greetings, he's quite certain. Take for example being hauled out of an arcane summoning Well and dumped directly into a cell and stripped of her magic. Compared to that, this one—an idle call from some shady alcove in one of the castle's gardens as she passes—must be downright pleasant.

Ralston is sat on a stone bench among the crawling ivy and shrubbery which crowds the alcove otherwise. The height of the wall denies any scrap of residual sunlight to this little nook, and so it is pleasantly cool there with him a dark shape amidst the sweet smelling laurel and boxwood.]

[vixening]

[ gossip is, for the decades that yennefer has spent passing through and existing in courts of a variety of degrees, a weapon to be wielded as much as an annoyance to be suffered through. knowing that thorne and therefore its capital had been built around a similar system, or at least similar enough that yennefer can understands the path well enough to strategize moving forward, it hadn't been too difficult a world to step into.

even if the world she was stepping out of was simply beneath the feet of the people amongst her.

in the end, it is a game. carefully set steps, well-placed compliments, a man like a dragon attacking ambrose in the thick of the chaos. she turns it to her favor, to her liking, and so far it all seems to be working in her favor. it takes her less than a day before she is welcomed, before jolene offers apologies for what must have been a mistake and yennefer, with her finely tuned smile, nods. she is up in the halls only hours later, to her room and a tour and given more apologies than she cares to do anything with, and this - finally - is when she gets to work.

because that is the heart of it, is it not? that the only potential threats she has in this castle are those among her station. because she has been careful, with her information. with the pleasantries she's been given, the story of saving ambrose she's threaded through. there is hardly a person in this castle (of note) who does not know what she and the others had done on that day, and their reactions (other than that of the queen, perhaps, but that is a question for another time) have all been thankful, impressed in many ways, relieved. it help secures her place, no matter what it is that ambrose plans to do about it, but it also means that the only thing that could threaten her would be the others of her same station, those who had been there.

( because that is the core of all this, isn't it? had yennefer been going about this only for herself, the strategy would be different. her patience, would be different. her willingness to let ambrose walk away... but she has those she is, at the same time, protecting. those she is worried about. one, perhaps more than the others. )

the voice from the shady aclove, is actually in some ways a familiar feeling. you don't spend a lifetime in one of the rising courts of the continent without your fair share of calls from shadowed corners, and yennefer is hardly taken off-step by it. if anything, she comes to a slow stop, considering the dark shape, the figure, the shrubbery that frames him in. he is one of the other guests, she notices first, and that fact settles over her like a cool breeze, but not in any real way of note. she appears all the part to be patient, even pleasant, and in no way bothered by how she's been taken from wherever it is she'd been headed. her eyes move to the image of death on his clothing, second. interesting. she knows him to be michael ralston, though what she knows of him is limited solely to the rumors whispered of him. of a tense, unlikable sort. the kind who, apparently, insults jolene and then becomes ostracized from the staff as a whole. yennefer had heard a variety of stories to a variety of degrees of what he had said and done. but suddenly the hidden conversation, his shadow in the vines, makes a bit more sense. ]

A place. [ she offers kindly enough, though curious in her own right. she has found herself in some newer clothes, herself, a longer dress made from more significant fabrics, though the image of the chariot is still visible. they have quite an obsession with their markings, she has found, but at the moment she doesn't mind the special treatment.

yennefer has to admit - she is curious. curious, as to whether or not this man is the type with a game he is playing that, somehow, involves pushing away the very people who brought them here. or, alternatively, if he's just ignorant to the ways of court. ] Or, it was when I last left it.

[brittlest]

Someone giving thought to wiping it from the map, are they?

[This, as mild an observation from the man in the shade as the answer to his initial question had been. With that drawling air and idle temperament, one might almost be mistaken into thinking the man relaxed. Languid. Untroubled. But even in this shady alcove, there is some whiff of vigilance in the fixture of his attention on her. A pedigree hunting dog at rest is still an animal with sharp teeth and a keen nose.

A soft scrape produces a cane drawn from where it had been idly tucked behind the bench. With its assistance, he shifts to the far end of the stone slab. After all, it would be monstrously rude not to at least make some passing arrangements for the lady to sit should she wish to.

(Nevermind that Michael Ralston evidently has no compunctions about being ill-mannered, to young ladies or otherwise.)]

{ closed to brad.

[vixening]

[neverlight]

[ It's been... relatively peaceful, since everything in the execution yard went down. That's to be expected, though. It's like he told Julie, before she made her escape — things would calm down. The people here were too smart to be reactionary. And that Thorne would remain the place to be.

It's certainly a lot quieter since most of their ranks left. More spacious, and more time left to oneself. There's also the knowledge that those who are here actually want to be; the evening gathering not long before had made it clear that wasn't necessarily the case. But it is now... in theory.

Brad hadn't had a lot to offer up to Jolene in the aftermath. It's not like he'd brought a sword with him down to the execution yard; it's not like he had a means to fight. All he could do was enjoy himself while watching the goings on around him — including a certain kiss in front of a portal, wherein one participant left and one stayed. So of course he'd shared that tidbit with the apprentice mage. It's not like he particularly cares if anything hurts Thorne, but for now this is where he lives, so this is where his allegiance lies. And there wouldn't be any advantage to holding onto any information just for himself; not when he needs to show the people in the castle that they can trust him, so they can nudge doors further open for him.

It's only a little surprising to see one of the participants of said kiss still out and about, roaming the halls. So. There's a long con going on here on somebody's end, huh.

He's into it.

Brad had been on his way to the library — hey, when you're just a regular guy from a regular world you've gotta practise magic at some point, don't you — but that can wait. This is far more interesting. So he stops, gives her a nod in greeting. ]

Hey. Yennefer, right? [ He's also very, very good at learning people's names. ] Don't think I've seen you up here before.

[ His overall demeanour is pleasant; friendly, even. She's freely roaming the halls of the castle; she's clearly done something right to get in Thorne's good graces. The time to be antagonistic has certainly passed — now it's about establishing connections.

Or at least trying to figure out what's up with her. That's something he's interested in, too, though this time more for himself than Thorne. ]

[vixening]

[ yennefer, to her own credit, had been doing what she could when it came to learning the names and faces of all those left in thorne. their numbers had dwindled, but they would be significant players, as time went on. she wanted to at least be aware of them, should anything come up. not that she assumed anything would, but this was court, after all. no one could truly be trusted.

all this to say - she did not know who the guest was who approached her in this hallway. a guest, certainly, but her time feeding and learning from the thorneans had not told her much about him, and she doesn't recall seeing him near the platform on that day, either.

still - as he nods to her in greeting and starts the conversation, yennefer slows to a stop. her mind is, of course, trying to parse out what he actually means by all of that, if he actually intends to allude to the fact she was not welcomed as a guest versus they just haven't run into each other yet, but she chooses a more neutral response. ]

I don't believe I'm come across you, either. [ a friendly enough smile, for now. ] But it's a pleasure to finally cross paths, ...?

[ she actually doesn't know his name, or at least doesn't know his face to attribute his name, so she'll do the semi-polite thing and give him an opportunity to fill it in. ]

[neverlight]

[ It never hurts to keep a low profile, does it? Brad would much rather be behind the scenes than a figurehead of anything. He doesn't mind taking credit where it's due; he also doesn't need it, much like he doesn't need a target on his back. So that she doesn't know who he is isn't a surprise. It's not unwelcome, either. There's a certain advantage to being able to control your own introduction, make your own first impression.

Especially when chances are pretty good you'll be seeing a lot of one another. His smile broadens ever so slightly, stays relatively warm. ]

Brad. That it is.

[ And why wouldn't it be? The mere fact that she's out and about suggests that she's important on some level. Who's to say whether or not they'll get along in the long run, but in the meantime — on a surface level, at least — they're on the same side. He'd prefer they get along now. ]

It's been an interesting week, hasn't it? [ That's pretty neutral ground. Small talk, really. Might as well be commenting on the weather. ] Can't say I'm used to dramatics like that where I'm from. And not a whole lot of us stuck around here, did we?

[ But we did. He's certainly interested in finding out what that means. ]

The Gardens

[harmonian]

[Sasarai is often exploring or wandering around as he rolls thoughts over in his head.

He's shuffling through the gardens when he sees another figure close by and recognizes it as the woman from the platform. Most of that day is a blur, a side effect of using his Rune magic for the first time in this world, but he'd drilled the faces of the people defending Ambrose into his memory.]

Hey. You were at the platform, right? During the attack?

[Once the words pass his lips he realizes he's not sure if there were more attacks that day in other parts of the castle. He hopes not. Nobody has said anything to him about it if there were.]

[vixening]

[ when she looks up, she doesn't recognize him at first. not because there had been any other attacks that day that she is thinking of, instead, but simply because she needs a moment to place it. thankfully, that is when he continues - at the platform - and yennefer lets a polite, easy smile cross her face.

another guest protecting ambrose. of course. ]

Yes, I was. My name's Yennefer. [ she turns to face him, looking all the part a polite member of court. she doesn't know most of those who stayed behind, she finds, so that one moment at the platform is proving to be her most useful yet. ]

[harmonian]

I'm Sasarai.

[It feels strange not having someone beside him listing off his titles. "His Grace, Priest-General Sasarai, Bishop of Holy Harmonia approaches!"

Here he is just "Sasarai". It's been taking some getting used to.]

I felt your magic supporting my barrier. Thanks for the help.

[vixening]

It's a pleasure, Sasarai.

[ and she does mean it, in a way, though there is and probably always will be some lingering posturing attached to the words.

still, yennefer gives a smile and a small nod. ]

Your barrier was quiet impressive, I don't believe I've seen magic quite like that before.

{ closed to jaskier

[vixening]

[cointosser]

[Jaskier is only doing this because Geralt asked him to.

And Geralt is so unbearably, ridiculously lucky -- perhaps even blessed by some misnamed goddess herself -- to have a friend like Jaskier, who certainly owes Geralt nothing (and Geralt, of course, owes him everything) and yet who is willing to... help his friend... with this.

This thing.

This thing that he considers wandering off into the desert and getting lost to avoid. The real desert. Right outside Cadens. Not a fake desert here. In the Horizon.]

I am far too good to him. [Jaskier remarks out loud to his apprentice, Moglad, a small moogle who is floating around his lute with a cloth thick with oil, polishing the lute's neck. Moglad knows better than to stop his work simply because Jaskier is talking to him, but the moogle's pom glows as he responds, Absolutely, Master Jaskier! W-wait, who?]

Moglad, in the end, it doesn't really matter, does it? [He heaves a sigh, climbing onto his carriage. The large tawny horses paw the ground, bright suns emblazoned on collars around their necks. The giant bird Hector gifted him rests on the roof of the wagon, its head tucked under a wing. Ah... he can't very well wake the finch.]

All right, I can finish that up. [Moglad wiggles in the air in excitement. Oh, thank you Master Jaskier! My paws were getting sore --] I need you to go look for someone.

[The moogle's head drops. Just when he thought he'd gotten out of work...

The moogle floats off, and Jaskier whips the horses into motion. Either the Horizon has closed in or it's the luck of the draw; Moglad returns having seen a woman with raven hair, which he compared rather poetically (Jaskier feels a rush of pride) to the ash left by dragon fire scorches. (Ugh. Luckily she didn't hear that.)

The wagon moves on, the laterns from its four corners swinging with the motion of its drive, until he can see her.

His chest clenches uncomfortably, as it always has every time he's had to lay his eyes on her. It has been years upon years, but he always thinks first of her expression as she ordered him to make his last wish. Something he had never quite --]

Yennefer. [The wagon slows as they run alongside her, until it makes an awkward jerk that shakes the entire wagon, waking his bird with a squawk. It's not that it is, indeed, Yennefer -- because it definitely is, of course -- that makes the wagon react so violently to his response, but that at first, her face is not what he remembers. It's... different, much different, and yet unmistakably hers.]

Now before you curse me, I'm only here to make sure you're not about to be... [He trails off, staring at her. It's shifting, her face. Her jaw. It's crooked, he realizes, alarmingly so, as if broken from a blow. But she does not seem to be in pain.] Goddess strike me down for asking, but... are you all right?

[vixening]

[ yennefer came to this place with others. a tall, serious man with dark hair and darker eyes, and another - sharper, edged, chaotic in ways that yennefer doesn't know if she has words for quite yet. they brought her into this place, called it the horizon, told her information and taught her about the singularity and her head is still spinning, at the thoughts of it all. what it could mean, what it could do. and it is only after that, with her mind still spinning and her awareness of her lack of memories made obvious, that yennefer comes across the wolf.

or, perhaps it's a better description to say that the wolf finds her, because he does. appearing, first, right along the edge of the space she stands in, and then it moves closer and closer until she can't ignore him. she knows the horizon is a strange place of temporary magics, that each space can be molded to the mind and wants of the person who inhabits it. but there is something about this wolf, about this place, that makes yennefer think perhaps it is not her's. or at the very least, she did not create it, create him. the wolf comes to her and waits, patiently, for her to follow - and it is after a few moments of consideration before she finally does.

they walk for some time, though yennefer does not know how long, so much that at one point she calls out to the wolf. ] Where are you taking me? [ he does not answer, of course he does not answer, but yennefer finds herself following all the same.

it is some point later that she catches sight of a carriage. the wolf seems to notice about the same time as well, turning back to look at her as if to say yes, this is right. she's not sure why, but something about the carriage, about the four lanterns hanging off of it...it is not familiar, necessarily, but it is also not nearly as strange as some of the other things she has seen here. and as the carriage approaches, she tries to latch onto why. she searches for the answer, feeling herself nearly adrift in her own thoughts - a feeling that is visibly apparently by her appearance, a kind of shadowed shifting through what she does not see, but feels, somewhere inside. an unmooring, perhaps, but also a lack of a hold on what it is she wants to be. where she wants to be. who.

yennefer the man driving the cart says as it slows to a stop alongside her. her head tilts as she looks at him, curious, uncertain. she does not know what she feels, does not quite understand what it is that awakens in her chest. it could be something close to recognition, but she's not sure. she can't be sure of anything, she supposes, but that seems close enough. ]

You know my name. [ it is not a question, as she says it, but a statement of fact with a hint of inquisitive thinking. he must know her, then, which would make sense as to why he does not feel, or seem, nearly as strange as the others she's come across.

but then he says before you curse me and yennefer finds herself frowning, suddenly uncertain again. ] Why would I curse you? [ is cursing something she can even do? there is a feeling of something around her, has been since she'd been aware enough of herself to notice, but is that what that is? curses? she'd simply attributed it to the singularity, to the way she is supposed to be able to morph and change the world around her, in this place. but what if it's something different?

the frown seems to set off that shifting, her appearance moving and changing the more uncertain she feels. but then the wolf returns, walking around the cart and then settling at her side, and his presence does make her feel better. more centered, even if she isn't exactly sure why. however, what settles is probably far from what this man expects to see, yennefer's jaw settling more off to the side than he is used to seeing, her face looking contorted, but expression young. ]

Me? [ and yennefer blinks, again, at the question. why wouldn't she be alright? her eyes look down to the wolf, and then back to the man on the cart, giving a small smile. ] I may have no recollection of who you are, sir, or of much at all, but I can assure you I'm fine.

[cointosser]

[It is only after Jaskier is finally able to take his eyes off of her face -- and he is sure it is shifting, even when he doesn't look at it -- to see the very same white wolf that feels of himself. It is, unmistakably, his wolf. Still here, except it's fucking here and not with Geralt, where it's meant to be. Jaskier glares at it and the wolf, of course, is completely unmoved.] I should have known this was your doing.

[The wolf yawns. It knows it's totally blameless.

Jaskier dismisses it the same way it dismisses him, turning back to the sorceress (since that day, he has not enjoyed ever turning his back to her.)]

I've known you for years. [He answers simply, and it's the truth, even if there's no affection for those years and that knowing. Why wouldn't you want to? It's probably a passing fancy with you, he thinks, but he only manages to swallow it down when the wolf gives him a look that is horribly familiar, its golden eyes flashing.]

Er. Hah. That was only a jest. [Of course, when he finds Yennefer, it's her first time. Her spin around the Horizon without a memory in her head. The same as his own experience, which meant... someone must have helped her here. In Thorne. And had they abandoned her, or had Yennefer been the one to tell them to fuck off? Ooh, definitely the latter.

Jaskier looks away from her, disturbed. Not only by her shifting face -- he well understands how things can manifest without much input from their own minds -- but what it could mean that it looks like that. And yet her eyes are so blazingly fierce, the same violet he may have once been enchanted by, when he first woke up to see her. Out of his little death-nap. Before she held a knife between his legs.

Jaskier, she saved your life. The words have haunted him for years.

It is the fact that she stands here, unmistakably Yennefer, and she calls him sir that something horrible, and yet beautiful, and perhaps terrifically evil comes to Jaskier's mind.

If this is anything like his own experience, her memories will return. And oh, she will remember this. She will remember calling Jaskier sir.

Oh. Oh, and she will hate it.

She will hate him.

Gods, some things in life are so delicious, too enticing, and one must satisfy the most gluttonous instincts. The very same instinct, that all-too-hungry desire for indulgence, that had him heal her face before she had realized her magic was unfettered again. The face she made before he fell into that portal was surely an expression he would carry to his grave.

Jaskier rearranges himself in the very same way he was in Thorne, meeting the guards of the dungeons, flirting with the courtiers in the castle. He smiles at her, and as genuine as it is, it is not because he is being kind.

No. He is being outright a monster.

He hops down from his wagon with a flourish, giving her a bow as he removes his feathered hat, bringing it to his chest.]

Ah, I'm glad! Things here, you know, can happen very unexpectedly. Someone must have brought you here, did they not? Have they explained what this place is? I'll be more than happy to help you in any way I can, Yennefer, as your very long and loyal friend. And worry not that you have no recall of me; I do not, of course, take it personally. It's simply the nature of this place, that memories get tucked away for a time.

[It is an act as much as it isn't. It is genuine, even, in a way -- it is impossible, he thinks, to be a tyrant to one who cannot remember you. And with her face so... so different, he can feel almost as if it isn't Yennefer at all. Not the one he's so well acquainted with.

He sweeps his arm towards the wolf.] That wolf at your feet is mine. I was looking for you, actually, in case you might appear. How lucky he found us first. Perhaps he thought you'd be safe with me.

horizon, babeyyyyy

[wiedzminka]

[ After her initial experience, disquieting as it was, accessing the Horizon has been easier, as Geralt promised. The connection isn't difficult to access; it feels like slipping into a dream far more than it feels like stepping into another world.

She's still not sure what to do with it, though. The Singularity is a looming tower in the center of the Horizon as always, a mystery that unnerves and draws her in equal measure, but for now... she hasn't approached it. Not yet.

Instead, she's spent the last few weeks feeling out her connection to the Horizon and learning how to step in and out of it at will, learning what she can do, what she can make. And, of course, keeping an eye out for anyone she might be able to meet here whom she couldn't meet with in her current situation. One person, in particular, keeps coming to mind. One person she's been desperate for news from, and with no way to reach out, no way to receive so much as a letter. She knows that even the prison cells can't block those of them from other planes from accessing the Horizon, but the worry is always there, a constant nagging in the back of her mind she only occasionally indulges so as to keep from dwelling.

But the longer the days drag on, and the more she peeks into the Horizon for 'practice' and for some time alone -- with a sword and a horse and a proper training ground to get some much-needed stress relief out -- the more she begins to actively look for Yennefer too.

She'll do loops around the Horizon on Kelpie, riding hard. She explores, peering into the Domains of others, learning where everything is and noting when it moves. Occasionally, she runs into others. Rarely, she comes in with Geralt or Jaskier. Mostly, she's alone.

So when she glimpses a couple of figures in the distance that look different from what she's noticed before, Ciri immediately turns her attention to them. It's too far to see, but she's sure that it's a person and... a dog? Some sort of animal, too small to be a horse, four-legged and white. She pulls Kelpie around, the sleek black mare moving like a liquid shadow at an easy canter, Ciri sitting tall in the saddle to squint out into the narrowing distance. She wears riding leathers today, a loose blouse with wide sleeves to feel the breeze, her hair in a braid over her shoulder that bounces with the cadence of the horse.

The dog is not a dog at all. It is a wolf. A white wolf with yellow eyes, and some suspiciously-placed scars.

However, more importantly, beside it walks a woman in all black, her gleaming dark hair cascading around her shoulders, with a graceful gait Ciri would recognize anywhere. ]

Yennefer!

[ Ciri exclaims, and literally leaps off her horse without bothering to stop all the way, landing in a crouch before springing up into a mad dash toward the strange pair. ]

[vixening]

[ after finding julian and traveling through the domains sat atop his cart, yennefer finds herself feeling more adept to traverse this magical place. it had been intimidating, at first, and her wolf companion had joined her at the exact moment that the weight of it had been unbearable, and now thanks to julian, the weight is even less so.

the horizon is still a mysterious place - and without her memories, without any real connection to who she had once been beyond this wolf, and all that julian had told her, yennefer knows she should be more suspicious. more on her guard. but the wolf makes his intentions known - they are to keep moving. there is more for yennefer to find.

she does not - however - know what to do when her name is called out over the wind. they are in an open space, fields outstretched in each direction, which does mean she is able to see the horse the figure rides in on. is able to see said figure who seems to know her jump from the back of the black steed. the wolf comes to an easy, expectant stop, and so yennefer does as well - equal parts confused and curious at the approaching woman. ]

Ah- hello? [ is this woman going to slow down? yennefer is unsure, but even still, there is a sort of buoyant excitement to her at the image. at the feeling of this woman approaching her. ]

[wiedzminka]

[ She does not slow down. She runs the rest of the way, arms outstretched, and only makes sure she doesn't barrel into Yennefer too hard.

The confusion on the sorceress's face registers vaguely, but that's a problem for later. Right now, she just wants to give Yennefer a big, long hug, pressing her face into her shoulder. ]

You're all right.

[vixening]

[ yennefer is, perhaps in a lot of ways validly, surprised by the immediate hug. if she had met this woman at any possible earlier moment, she might have even stiffened. pulled away. needed more time to ease into the quick and immediate affection - but her time spent with julian, with the wolf, it has made her more open to the facts of this place. that there are those who know her, who really know her, that she may not remember.

her uncertainty is visible, if not felt, a kind of swirling through of her features - as if she's not quite sure who she is meant to be, in this moment. but that doesn't seem to be an issue, considering the way this woman wraps her arms around her, the way she presses her face into her shoulder.

( it sends something immediate through her, if she's being honest. a longing, yes, but something more visceral. something tighter, almost painful. it knocks the breath from her, not just from actual force, and it takes a brief moment before yennefer can react at all. can so much as let her heart keep beating. )

yennefer, to her credit, does wrap her arms back around the woman. she may not know her, but this closeness, this hug - yennefer aches for it, in a ways he's not sure how to bring words to. one arm goes around her shoulderblades, while the other wraps atop her shoulders, one hand on the back of the woman's head.

she must know her. she must. and for whatever reason, this feels like something she is supposed to be doing. that she needs to be doing. ]

Yes- I'm alright. [ there is a brief second, suddenly, where that feels more true than it might have before. ]