abraxaslogs | the fairy tales and little lies can't drown out all the sound [closed]

That's not quite what I --

[He gives a short, abrupt little laugh, looking up at her (a rare feat; she makes Nadine look positively tiny) as he clears his throat. He cannot, of course, let himself look like a fool in front of a woman who looks... like that.

And yet.

Is the chemise and the rich oils in his hair worth this? Let alone a potential attack by whatever monster Geralt mentioned swallowed Dean alive? Honestly, that is the far more critical detail. Being swallowed alive would put a large damper on many of his plans.]

Let me say, I'm much more worried about what's in the water. The coral withstanding, of course. Unless you can teach one to swim faster than any potential sharks or kikimore, then...

[He swallows.]

[She can see the hesitance, the anxiety in his expression, and her own softens. Though she had never truly feared the ocean, she'd always had a deep respect for it--but since coming to this world, she's found that fearing the ocean isn't exactly uncommon.

But when she hears that his concern lies with what dangers may lurk in the water, reassurance fills her eyes and voice.]

I would not let anything harm you. That I promise.

[A beat passes, and she adds:]

I have never had to swim faster than a shark, but I think I might manage it. But I do not know what a kikimore is.

[Jaskier blinks. Whether or not they have been partnered up, he's rather surprised by such a blatant statement. A bold one, even. And -- you know, strangely, he sort of believes her. She is, after all, built in a way that most knights would be even jealous of, and she sounds earnest.

Jaskier takes in her expression for a moment, pursing his lips.]

It's a somewhat rare beast, caught between the terrible qualities of a shark and a squid. It's rather hideous, with far too many teeth.

[He's already made his decision, however.] All right, you've convinced me. As long as you keep me safe, I am more than happy to help. [He's already beginning to take his shirt off without prompting.] I'm Jaskier, by the way. [He bows to her with his shirt hanging off his arms still.] A bard by trade, and not... well, whatever you call someone growing coral. I don't suppose coral counts as a plant, does it...?

[Now he thinks of it, perhaps his magic could help here.]

[Diana is entirely earnest with her words, and she's glad he believes her. The corners of her lips turn down at his description of the kikimore, but she doesn't seem deterred from entering the water. When he starts to ready himself for the plunge, she does as well, but that really only means untying her outer chiton to leave her in her underthings--she's learned, now, that it's more socially acceptable to keep clothing on in the water, though she still can't say it makes sense to her.

She toes off her sandals, and reassures him:]

I will. [Even if they do encounter this kikimore, she's fairly certain she can get the both of them out of the bay before it becomes dangerous. She straightens after folding her chiton neatly on a rock, and smiles.]

Well met, Jaskier. I am Diana. I spend most of my time escorting trade caravans between Cadens and Aquila. [She doesn't really know what that profession would be called, but doesn't give it much thought. Instead, she considers his question.] I don't think all of it is, but I know there are plants on coral.

[Funny enough, he's of the same mind. It would be far more simple to do this in the nude, but he's learned from one of his previous trips to Aquila that the Free Cities are not so, ah, open with their nudity. So when he peels off his trousers, he did come prepared with something called "trunks". Besides, he may as well keep a bit of modesty around new company.

He places the goggles over his eyes. Oh, that's. Fucking strange. All right.]

Really? As a bodyguard of sorts? Well, I can certainly see it. Ooh. Lovely name, by the by. [He cannot understate how large this woman is. Songs could be written about her physique alone. Quite literally. He may be composing in his head as they speak.]

Good enough! Shall we, Diana?

[He pushes the box of corals that were provided to him upon acceptance, which he's been told is some sort of... grown coral. Truthfully, he doesn't see the difference between coral and plants, but it doesn't appear to respond much to his magic, so it might be more... rock? Than plant?

He is not a biologist. But he does start wading into the water, making sure Diana is quite close. He's taking this whole protection thing quite seriously, mostly because there is absolutely no way he can turn into a bird underwater. He's quite sure that would be a brilliant way to drown.]

[She likes the way he seems to say whatever comes to mind--so many people in this world, Summoned included, seem determined to keep everything so close to their chests. It's heartening for Diana to meet someone who doesn't appear to do that. A little bit of honesty is refreshing.

Though she's also been provided with a pair of goggles, she doesn't bother to put them on, instead looping them around her wrist. She may as well keep them, in case Jaskier needs them. She nods, and follows him into the water. The box of coral is... interesting, to say the least. She's seen a lot of coral up close, having lived on a tropical island for most of her life, and not even she can see the difference between it and what already lives in the water. She wonders how much of it was magic, and how much was science.

Diana picks up on how he's sticking close, and a little smile curves her lips.]

I will scout ahead.

[Without waiting for a response, she dives gracefully into the water, able to move faster while swimming than wading. She swims towards the reef they're meant to repair, able to see under the water even without the goggles. She does a quick loop of the area, and sees nothing of consequence. Two or so minutes later, she resurfaces near Jaskier, pushing wet hair from her face with a wide smile, and reassures him:]

All seems well. Are you ready?

[Jaskier is going full on marine biologist nerd for his look, but he likes to think his swim trunks and the goggles make him look rather fetching. Though he will admit it is a little harder than usual to feel his very attractive self when he's standing next to her and putting all efforts into not leering.

He is a gentleman. Gentleman appreciate with a gentle sweep of their eyes, and move on.

I will scout ahead.

He's sweating. This ocean is truly not cool enough. Is it hot out here suddenly? (It's the bloody desert, of course it is.) There's a creeping flush up his neck he is absolutely ignoring. He knows, for a fact, she could snap his neck with one arm. Oh -- god. That is not a fantasy he needs to be having. He's here to work! To save nature itself!

To --

To watch her break the water must be identical to one watching a goddess breach the line from the night to dawn. The desert sun hits every drop desperately clinging to her dark tresses, defying gravity itself for another second of touching her --]

I -- ready? Ready for what? [He blinks himself back into his own body.] Oh! Oh, yes, absolutely ready. Ready for anything. I was, in fact, born ready, one might say.

[He's going to pass out. It is merely a frantic desire to steal one more second of being graced by her gentle voice that he manages to recall the reason he's even here. At the beach. Dragging a box of bloody coral into the water. Thank you, coral, for being destroyed in the first place, that Destiny herself could bring me to this moment.

A worthy sacrifice.

He makes his way over to her, swimming not ungracefully, entirely, but because he's bringing the coral with him, it's not. Entirely smooth.] You swim very... good. Well. You swim well, I see. A lot of -- practice? I assume?

[Her brows draw together just the slightest bit at the question, but it doesn't take much for her to notice the redness moving up his neck and the beads of sweat on his brow. Is he ill? She's about to ask when he seems to remember (enthusiastically) what they're here to do. But she's going to be keeping a close eye on him, just to make sure he really is alright. Mortals are incredibly resilient, but also fragile; if something is wrong, she won't risk him staying in the ocean.

Diana laughs, the sound musical and coming from deep in her chest.]

I will call on you the next time I need to plant coral, then.

[She's teasing, just a little, but there's no bite to it. Once he's close enough, she puts one hand on the box of coral as well, steadying it in the water. It doesn't look at all easy to maneuver. She runs one finger over the pieces they're supposed to plant, not really able to tell the difference between it and what grows naturally in the ocean. It's amazing, really.

At the questions, her face lights up.]

I grew up on an island. The ocean was sometimes a second home.

[To a certain point. No Amazon dared venture beyond the borders set by Zeus--until she had. And even without her mother's blessing, she doesn't regret that.]

[The flutter in his chest may be actual, real heart palpitations. How has he avoided this up until now? It isn't fair. Even Melitele herself was not this tall. Probably. IF she existed at all. Her statues always made her look so... modest. Four arms or not.]

Yes! You absolutely should. I mean, my natural talent is with all plant life before, er, rock life, but I'm very handy. With my hands.

[He dips under the water, pushing his wet bangs back to stay out of his face. He's. All right, swimming better than he at first indicated, but the water here is lovely, blue, and clear, and it's giving him opportunity to admire both nature's beauty and women's bounty. But it's far less impressive than growing up on an island. It's swimming from the vineyard's local lake, and falling into wells, and bathing in rivers.]

It certainly shows. You don't fear it at all, do you? [Then he feels much better having her as a partner than most. The goggles certainly help in a way that actually shocks him. As he ducks down with a coral in hand, pressing it to the rock, it seemingly grows from the touch, attaching itself -- and he can see it, crystal-clear, without burning salt in his eyes. He breaches again, shaking water from his hair.] My family owned a vineyard, with a giant lake nearby. We used to run away from our chores and throw ourselves in. I learned from necessity; I had many cousins who would've loved to drown me.

[She looks genuinely interested in that statement, and even a smidgen envious.]

I have never had much talent with cultivation. My hand-talents lie elsewhere.

[This is said without a single hint of innuendo; she means it literally, just trying to use the same vernacular he is. Successful or not, it's one of the many things she's started doing since arriving in this world to try to understand the people a little bit better.

She smiles, and gives a small shrug.]

Fear, no. But I have a deep respect for it. [It was the first thing she'd been taught before her mother allowed her anywhere near the water. After five thousand years, it's a lesson that holds strong.

When he dives below the surface, she follows suit, reaching for a chunk of cultivated coral and cradling it gently with both hands as she finds a suitable spot on the natural formation beneath the waves. She watches, fascinated, as the two pieces of coral fuse together in moments. She surfaces again in time to hear him, and while she's intrigued about the vineyard, she does look somewhat concerned, brows drawn together.]

Why would your family want to drown you?

[If he was a lesser man, he would have sworn there was a little lilt to her tone. A purr, one might say.

Oh, how he wishes to be a lesser man in the moment. A man who could chat her up over wine and fine cheeses, a bit of bread, Mog tucked up under their feet and a warm fire roasting away -- pretending that they weren't in the bloody desert, where one could enjoy a fire. Suppose the nights where he can are coming soon. A man who didn't have a job fixing the ocean's, er... landscape.

Alas.

He raises a finger through the water, splashing it up to make a point as it moves into the air.] Competition, my good lady! Competition. The less family there is, the more wealth goes to the one who survives. I mean, after all the previous generation are dead. A lot of situations in life are specifically set up to kill one's family in the hope of generational wealth, now I think about it. Whew! Good thing I got away from all that.

[Diana, for her part, would actually enjoy the wine, cheese, bread, and fire. The heat here doesn't bother her much, though it is drier than it was on Themyscira. She remembers the Front being cold, and while the snow had been beautiful, little else about the expedition had been. Honestly, she prefers the sun and heat to nearly anything else.

As he speaks, her frown grows deeper. It's clear that she finds what he's saying disturbing, especially the longer she thinks about it.]

That is horrible.

[She says it in a matter-of-fact fashion, as if it should be obvious to anyone. There's also a healthy dose of sympathy in her tone.]

Is wealth truly that important to your family?

[Jaskier's expression evens out as he tilts his head, a slight marring to his brows. He was only attempting to be entertaining, actually -- telling the truths of the world that most would understand. But the way she responds feels genuine, the way a child might react the first time they witness a kikimore biting the village gravekeeper in half. That moment where a new innocence is destroyed, where they discover death is not always like the stories -- neither clean, nor kind.

It isn't naivete, he thinks. Genuine surprise, birthed explicitly from inexperience. He thinks no lesser of her for it. In fact, he thinks well of it. To be free from such squabbles.]

Yes... it is rather horrible. [Which is why he became a bard. All right, it's not why he became a bard, and Jaskier still has always had a great deal of wealth to call his own, but getting away from the squabbles of royals has always been a important bonus to his lifestyle. He gets to watch it happen, but he's never directly involved.] Unfortunately, money and power are the most important things in the world to many people. [But he does move into a smile once again.] But not to us, as you can see! Which is why we're planting coral for free.

[She can see in his expression that he's... surprised by her reaction. Which is strange, she thinks, but there is a lot about the world--this one and others--that she doesn't yet understand. But while it may be normal in his world to view wealth and power as important, she simply cannot wrap her head around it. Perhaps it is a good thing she wasn't dropped in Thorne. While Diana has a head for politics and understands the power struggles behind them, she doesn't particularly enjoy them. It was one of the many things her mother often lamented during her upbringing.

His attempt to lighten the mood does work, and her expression smooths out into a reciprocating smile. While his words still nag at the back of her mind, she can at least put them aside until they finish their task.]

Not to us. [She echoes him with a good-natured laugh. She reaches for another piece of coral from their bin.] Come, the faster we do this, the sooner we can enjoy the beach. [Which makes it sound like she isn't planning to just immediately part ways once their task is complete.]

[If they had drinks, he'd absolutely toast her. And speaking of drinks, she raises an absolute blast of a point -- they could be drinking, instead of planting coral for free. Which, while he's very honored to do it and help nature heal and somesuch, he's obviously much more inclined to have drinks with beautiful, powerful women.]

My lady, you've made an excellent point. One of many to come, I'm sure.

[He reciprocates: why not spend a bit more time together? They're getting along! Saving the sphere! Helping the fish! Feeding them? He's not really sure what coral does. Do fish eat it? Who knows?

Unfortunately, the urge to get it done faster means he's swimming faster, and coming to the surface is interrupted when his foot slips between one freshly planted coral and the next -- unfortunately both completely adhered to the rock they've been planted on already. He flails with a gulped yell, swallowing bitter sea water, bending down to tug on the coral which are -- fucking -- rocks. Why does a rock need more rock attached to it??

If he drowns before he gets drinks with this woman, he's going to kill the gods himself.]

[Diana grins widely, and then dives down beneath the waves to slot her chunk of coral in between a few others. It seems to adhere to the mass below it immediately, and she's once again struck by the power of Cadens' magic--technology, they may call it, but the line is indeed very fine.

She's just reaching for another hunk of coral when she sees movement from the corner of her eye. Jaskier is still beneath the water, she knows, and her chest tightens at the thought of danger lurking in the depths. Diana immediately dives back into the water, arms raised and ready to defend--but the movement she saw wasn't a shark or one of Jaskier's other water beasts; it's Jaskier himself, reaching towards the surface, but apparently unable to get there.

Only a split second passes as she processes what she's seeing, and then she's darting towards him, swimming faster then she was minutes ago. For a brief moment, she pauses just in front of him hair floating out in a halo around her head as she assesses the situation in front of her, and then one mighty kick brings her face-to-coral with the rocks holding him hostage. The coral is sharp, there's no doubt, but Diana reaches out and crushes one of the pieces with her bare hand. No blood flows--it doesn't even break her skin. She reaches for the second piece, glancing back, hoping she isn't too late. She doesn't know how long men can hold their breath, but she doesn't imagine it's very long. At least, it didn't seem very long the last time she saved a drowning man.]

[In the nature of drowning men, he immediately clings to the first thing he can get hold of, the ocean seemingly roaring in his ears even if the waters around them are so still. He uses it to push himself to the surface, kicking wildly, flailing a bit as he breaks through --

And takes a long, burning breath, swinging his head about to whip wet hair out of his face and mouth. Oh, for the love of Melitele! He gasps again, holding his chest as the burning there subsides; once Diana breaches next to him, he nearly grabs her and kisses her on the cheek.]

Oh, fuck, thank you! That would have -- [He pauses to breathe, popping his hands against his cold cheeks as he shivers,] it would've been a terribly embarrassing death. [Though not as bad as the djinn one he almost suffered... and even now, his lungs and throat do not tear themselves apart as they had then.] I had no idea the bloody things could be so strong! They really should've hired bloody professionals!

[Or people who watch what they do, but still. He is talented in music on land for good reason.]

[He pulls himself towards the surface, and only now does Diana realize why her relief is so great; the last time she rescued a man from drowning, she spent several devastating minutes thinking he was dead. She still remembers how pale he'd looked, the way his face had gone slack and his limbs floated around him. To see Jaskier haul himself towards the open air eases her building panic.

Even as he begins talking, Diana is inspecting him as best she can while floating there in the sea, heart in her throat. Each word serves to reassure her that she wasn't too late, that he is alive and relatively well. She exhales slowly, shakily, and for the briefest of moments, she looks as if she's the one who has undergone a harrowing experience.]

Let's rest on the beach for a while.

[Her voice is surprisingly steady to her own ears. If he'll let her, she'll wrap one arm around his waist and start swimming them both towards the shore.]

[Okay, granted, he is grabbing her a bit now, because his whole body is beginning to shake now it's realizing he's survived. She's taking this. Well. Which is good, because both of them panicking would be even worse.

He nods, far too quickly to show he's calmed completely. He absolutely lets her help, his own arm around her shoulder.] Let's.

[He notes how easily she helps him through the water, how she broke rock, and is amazed in a far different capacity with her strength. Which -- look, he is not immune to strong women, nor unfamiliar with them, but their strength has always come through magic. Even Ciri's skill was with her agility, her chaos. Once on land, he falls to his knees and lets his body simply shake, shivering. Catch his breath even where his chest still feels like it's burning. After a moment, he finally turns around and sits back.

Shit.] You're all right too? My apologies. I didn't mean for so much... flailing.

[Despite the drag of the water and the way he's grabbing on to her, she moves as if he isn't a burden at all, and they make it safely to the shore. She crouches beside him, concern writ across her face, and keeps one hand steady on his back as he trembles. She doesn't see him as weak for his reaction; he'd nearly drowned, after all. Despite their longevity, there were some things that could kill an Amazon, and drowning was one of them. Having a deep respect and understanding of the ocean was something drilled into them all for good reason.

She moves aside when he adjusts his posture, remaining crouched and close. She doesn't want to go too far, in case he passes out. She's touched when he turns to her, and a gentle smile finds her lips.]

I am just fine. [The corners of her lips tilt upwards just a bit more.] And you did not flail... too much.

[He turns away at her answer as his stomach roils; for a moment he has the horrible idea he's about to vomit, but he only spits up water which is -- also disgusting, to be fair.

And to think, he's doing this for money he doesn't need.]

Sorry. [The flailing, the water vomit. Ugh. He lays back on the sand, letting all his organs drift back into the position they belong in.] I imagine you must be, considering all of that titanic strength. I don't think even Geralt could break a bloody rock like that without an elixir first.

[Well. Maybe. He's never asked Geralt to break a rock, because he never does anything fun. Now he has to ask him about it.] I suppose you do a lot of work. Farming, perhaps? Tilling very particularly rock-filled lands?

[There is not a chance in hell she is a farmer. For one, she's hardly burnt and wrinkled up, like a raisin. She's much more... grape.]

[While it is a little gross, Diana doesn't seem put off by it. Again: he almost drowned. A small part of her actually feels guilty that she didn't realize he was in trouble sooner. But he's safe on land now, and that's what she needs to focus on.

She follows suit, lying on her back beside him with her hands folded behind her head. The sand is warm beneath her, and the sun warm above; it's actually kind of cozy. The corners of her lips quirk up at the mention of Geralt. She voices what he's thinking:]

I'll have to ask him if he can, the next time I see him.

[Which isn't often, since they're both in and out of Cadens, but they cross paths now and then for a friendly spar or drink at the Inn. But his guess at her profession makes her laugh, and she rolls on her side to face him as she answers, head propped up on one hand.]

No, I was not born for the life of a farmer. But maybe some day I will try my hand at tending things that grow. I am a soldier, and I put my skills to use by protecting caravans as they travel through the desert.

[Oh, of course Geralt hangs out with giant strong women and never tells him about them. He's going to choke Geralt in his sleep one of these days, mark his words. And she goes around saving people from drowning! Apparently.

Jaskier lifts his head, ignoring the salt-tinged soreness in his throat. (He's going to hope this does not fuck his voice at all.)]

A soldier? [He looks at one of her arms, the muscles coiled with it raised above her head, and he very badly wants to squeeze it. Oh, he bets it's rock hard.]

A beautiful, graceful, gentle bodyguard, helping the poorest of men... it practically writes itself. [He may have added some embellishments already.] Tell me, do you slay monsters, too?

[The way he describes her is... well, it's very nice, and her expression softens as her heart melts a little. But though she's received a few requests to be a bodyguard, she has net to accept any--she isn't going to correct him, though. She's honestly a little too charmed to, perhaps for the first time ever.

She has the feeling that there's a little playfulness to the question--even just a year ago, she wouldn't have been able to answer without feeling a deep sense of dread in her chest. But now, she can simply nod, though her expression is a little more somber than it was a moment ago.]

I have, though I prefer not to. Despite being trained for war, I prefer to avoid battle.

[His eyes alight. He's looking significantly better for a man who just drowned -- but inspiration does such things to him. (His throat still hurts like hell, though.) What sort of man isn't fascinated with a woman who can protect him? Diana could even put Borch's Zerrikanian warriors to the test, he bets.

And that was years ago. Such women really leave an impression on him.

It does help she is not meeting him with some measure of abject disgust, but he was -- quite a different man then, wasn't he?]

Fascinating. A warrior who wishes not to be. [He smiles at her, imagining -- then what else is there?] If you could be anything, then... what would you do? What sort of life would you live?

the fairy tales and little lies can't drown out all the sound [closed]

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i know this is very late, i was traveling! please feel free to ignore if you prefer to move on <3

no worries! I don't mind backtags so we can wrap it up whenever!

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