abraxaslogs | you've never danced like this before [open]

Entry tags:

you've never danced like this before [open]

Who: Jaskier and YOU
When: October catch-all, prior to event
Where: The new Casa de Mojo de Witcher, and Jaskier's plant shop in Cadens
What: Being a good business owner and bullying his family into a better home.
Warnings: N/A!

A SONG OF SAPLINGS

In the midst of the Cadens desert sits a small oasis surrounded by four walls. A Song of Saplings is (one of) Jaskier's pride and joy. This plant shop lay in the heart of Cadens's thriving market, with a handcarved, inviting sign of a tree's branches wrapping around the name of the store. A tiny bell with a sound similar to a bird's call rings as one steps inside -- only to be assaulted by a wall of green.

The goal of A Song of Saplings is to fill the desert with color. While most plants Jaskier offers are hardy cacti and woody bushes, there are special selections of flowers, saplings, and plants that simply should not be growing in the desert. Bright pink roses, verdant oak saplings, and a fuzzy-leafed favorite called "wolf's ear" are displayed among the store's rich wooden shelves, all personally grown by the Gem of the Phoenix himself. A selection of local artisan-crafted pottery fills one of the back shelves, each piece stamped by its creator. Other similar art for one's garden is for sale, including statuary of dragons, decorated birds, mermaids and unicorns -- pieces of the Continent that Jaskier has commissioned to decorate Cadens. And, of course, phoenixes.

At the back of the shop is a door that boasts a sign reading "EMPLOYEES ONLY", a bit of a modern touch Jaskier has picked up as advised by some of his more contemporary companions. Inside is a room set up similar to a break room, with a cushioned couch pushed against one wall, a small table with a smattering of chairs surrounding it, and a shelf containing cleaning tools and solutions. There also appears to be a miniature well where one can draw fresh water from, though it does not sink very deep.

The front counter of the shop bears a bowl full of candies and a young woman with a head full of black braids and what appear to be horns naturally curling from her head. She wears a facemask that covers her nose and mouth that, as is rumoured, she never removes. Quille's voice and face always remain somewhat blank and detached, but she is startlingly dedicated to aiding those who come seeking specific foliage. She can often be seen sweeping the same spot for an hour, or plucking leaves off the plants -- wait a second, did she just eat one? Further rumours circle that she is a daemon that's been exiled from her home, orphaned and left to thrive on Cadens's streets on her own, but Quille will limit conversation only to the purchasing and selling of plants. Somehow, she has extensive knowledge of every single plant in the shop, and appears to be its only employee.

CASA DE WITCHER

Away from the hustle and bustle of the markets and Cadens's main streets is a rather decorated home, a stone wall giving its land a small bit of shade and privacy from its neighbors. The front entrance has two strangely rich and green box flowerbeds to welcome visitors, and a long, rough doormat gives indication of how little the owner wishes you to bring in mud and dirt. Even from the ground level, one can see that the rooftop patio is full of green plants and one twisted, knotted tree with bowed, weeping boughs and small white flowers.

Connected to the side of the house is a shed and a stable, housing two horses and, bizarrely, a bright golden chocobo. Along the walls are various tack and saddles for the creatures, and what appears to be a series of shelves that, upon closer inspection, have cat prints left behind in the dust. One large black horse and the chocobo are very friendly to any guests peeking their head in, but the second horse will snort and may bite if visitors come too close.

Inside the home are long hallways that lead to three different bedrooms, all decorated vastly different, respectful to their owners. The hallways are lined with shelves containing all manner of potted plants, skulls, and bones, along with something that looks suspiciously like a petrified lizard. A dining room has been set up with a rather expensive-looking icebox, and generally the small kitchen is always filled with bread or the smell of it. Curiously, food never appears to rot here, no matter how long it's left out in the open.

The home's dwellers are often seen going on and out at all hours of the night, sometimes bringing back monster corpses or... parts... with them. And more often than not, one can see (and/or) hear Jaskier sitting on the patio, practicing his music.

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Loving your enthusiasm, but it's not a sexy thing.

[Or maybe Jaskier will think it is, she probably shouldn't decide that for him. But it isn't inherently sexual. No need for him to get all excited and think orgasms are imminent or something.

She waits for the door to close behind them and then takes a seat on the comfortable couch Jaskier had gotten for the back room. It's a big step up from the plain wooden bench they'd first sat together on back here.]

It's more of a romantic thing, I guess. It's...it's coming up on two years, you know.

[There's no need to specify what, exactly.]

Oh. [This one certainly has a disappointed tone, but he won't complain (much). He is always happy to see her. (He's only a little disappointed. He's not saying his mind wanders during the slower hours of the day, but --)

Right, he's listening.

He sits across from her, crossing his legs at the ankle. He's behaving! Getting his thoughts in order. Listening. Romantic is still plenty to pique his interests. As she mentions the two years, the smile that crosses his face is so endlessly font that it even creases the wrinkles at his eyes.] I know. If we're counting the party.

[He does like to count it. He hasn't told her -- it feels an undue amount of pressure to put on anyone -- that it stands in his head the longest a relationship has... flowed. He can't even recall really ever arguing. Not about anything that matters.] Were you thinking of doing something special? To celebrate?

Something like that.

[Nadine also counts the party. Maybe it had taken some time for them to establish themselves as a proper pair, but the party had been the start. They'd been something since that night.

She takes a deep breath. There's no reason to be nervous, and yet...]

In my world, there are a lot of different ways for couples to mark their relationship. And a lot of options for showing that connection and commitment without making a traditional fuss about it.

[She thinks Jaskier knows how she phrases things well enough to know what she's really saying. There are more subtle alternatives to the classic route of marriage. However they classify it, however they frame it...they know what they are to each other. It's an unspoken constant between them.

In a way, it seems fitting to commemorate it like this. Something unspoken.]

One of those is to get a tattoo in honor of your partner and relationship. I...was thinking of doing that. If you don't think it's weird.

[Or too much.]

[Something like that certainly sets a precedence. He sits up a little, joining his hands together in front of him, nestled in his lap. He's not nervous, really -- he hardly ever feels that way with Nadine -- but. Intrigued? He has a guess this might be something from her sphere. Something new to him.

And so it is. Though he flutters over the word commitment, there is this unspoken, fully unspoken, sort of agreement between them. They are committed without specific words, or ceremony, or rings. Jaskier brings her flowers, and she gives him teas and new strains of her herbs. It's a comforting push-and-pull to him.

He knows, the way she phrases it, she does not intend to change such a thing, nor push for otherwise.

What she proposes, however, is not something he's ever even considered. Surprise raises his brows, clenches his fingers. His first thought is the branded initials on Nadine's thigh; a marking that has long been one he hardly notices. But he remembers their first time. Tracing the raised skin, and wanting to ask -- but refraining.

If you had asked him, he would have assumed she would be against another man permanently marking her skin, if only because how the... first... went. A hand comes over his heart.] I admit, you've taken me by surprise. [He knows of tattoos, specifically in this sphere, now. No longer something stabbed into one with a stick and ink, these are magical in nature, and truly an art. He's traced the markings both on Geralt and Nadine's bodies with appreciation, though he never received his own.] No, I hardly think it's strange. I... I honestly, I would be honored. The very idea you would put some memory of me on your body, permanently -- Nadine, that is truly beautiful. [He offers a hand to take hers, to squeeze it.] I won't ask what it will be. I think I'd love to be surprised.

[She watches his face as he takes it all in, hopeful, but looking for any hint or sign that this is something too strange for him. It doesn't seem to be.

If she knew his thoughts she could explain it easily. The mark on her thigh had been put on her. This she's choosing for herself. There's a power in that. All of this is of her own choosing. Jaskier is the man she's chosen for herself, to fill that role as her partner and equal companion through life. They chose one another, for no reasons other than they love each other and want each other.]

I'm glad. I just...I wanted to do something to show the world what you are to me, but...something I'm comfortable with. That we're both comfortable with, obviously. And I'm also really glad we're on the same page about this kind of stuff.

[How cruel it would be, if Jaskier had other designs and she was forced to turn him down. Even things that skirted close didn't seem comfortable. Even the idea of just rings seemed to close to contemplate. Besides, a ring could be lost or stolen or damaged.

A tattoo was a part of her. It meant more, really.]

I'm happy to surprise you. But...you could come with me while I get it done. If you're not busy.

I am! Comfortable, I mean. Very comfortable. I think. No. I'm sure. It's -- [Oh, he's flustered. He can't help but be flustered; Jaskier is mostly confident because he's been through most situations, or at least something similar, and can lead his way through it.

This isn't like a proposal, nor a marriage. In some ways, it feels even more permanent. But there are plenty of people, even on the Continent, who mark themselves for beliefs, or for want of freedom, or for art. Even the druids themselves would ink trees, beloved blossoms, their favorite creatures.

He very much enjoys the thought he's Nadine's favorite creature.] My dear heart, there is not a single moment I would ever be too busy for you. [He smiles, and he's melting in this. To be so adored...] I will be there. Just tell me the time and place.

[And he'll do his very best not to cry.]

Yeah.

[Nadine understands. Both what Jaskier's trying to say and also why he's stumbling over his words. In a way, despite them both having a talent for words, they're better at displays and acts of affection. Showing rather than telling, at least with one another. Maybe it's just that what's between them is too big for words.

Some things defy being contained by human language.]

Well...no time like the present. It's already designed.

[And perfectly represents him, and their relationship. At least in her opinion. She thinks he'll agree.]

I just have to get it put on.

It's already -- really? [Another round of blustering. Which means she's planned this for some time -- more than making it a whim. Which he has no problem with. He lives off whims, even ones that will be inevitably permanent. That she has made the design already...

All right, he does want to know. He can only pretend he likes surprises for so long.

He nearly pops back to his feet, holding her hands.] Words that I live by! [Everything should be done as close to the present as possible, because then it has more time to ultimately be enjoyed.] To Nocwich? Or is there someone here?

[He shifts with a restless energy. Nocwich is open, but he's been attempting to be a responsible business owner. He does stick his head out of the back room's door, to see Quille has seemingly... cleaned every shelf already. All right.] Quille, I'll be setting off for the day. Remember to lock up the doors if you would!

[The girl waves a hand in acknowledgement. She is clearly used to Jaskier disappearing without a word -- this is him being extra polite. He'll remember to bring her back a little something as a surprise.]

I didn't want to bring it up until it was ready.

[No, this is no whim. This is something Nadine has given a great deal of thought. While she's gotten a bit better at indulging little whims, she's still a planner and one who needs to consider things at length. And something like this...

There's a reason that this particular symbolism is what she chose. A tattoo permanently links her to Jaskier. In this world, there's nothing else the design could possibly stand for. Not in the Free Cities, at least. No, it's nothing to be done on a whim for her.]

Nocwich. [There's no hesitation when she answers.] That's why I brought it up today, I don't want to wait until next month. And I know how they do tattoos here, and I know how they do them in Nocwich.

[She's done it the old fashioned way once, she'd prefer the other way. Especially for a detailed design with colors. And it won't fade any, like traditional ink.

She offers a smile to Jaskier's shop girl on their way out. As she passes one of the counters, she slips a small handful of hard candies out of her pouch and onto its surface. As thanks.]

It's perfect, then. [It must be why she brought it up today, when Nocwich has opened to them.] I certainly would trust the wolves more than anyone with a pointy jabbing stick and ink around here.

[Not that Cadens does not have magnificent artists, of course, but certainly inked skin is not a particular specialty. And the artists in Nocwich use that... magic ink, or whatever.

He thinks it will be beautiful no matter what it is, because it's Nadine's. And perhaps, in a small way, it's a part of him, too.

Quille's "ooh!" follows them out, as well as the little ringing bell of his shop's door. He slips his hand into Nadine's, leading them to the portal to take them to the land of eternal night.]

All right, I can't take it. Give me a hint of what it might be. Only a hint!

[He barely made it ten minutes.]

[Nadine's fingers squeeze his as they take each other's hand. It's silly, the sense of excitement over this. She wonders if it's common, here, for couples to do this sort of thing or it will be a novelty for the artist.]

Already? What happened to wanting to be surprised?

[She chuckles, nudging him playfully. That hadn't lasted long at all.]

But honestly I'm surprised you'd have to give it much thought. I'm sure you can figure out at least one element of the design, considering it's going to symbolize you.

[And Jaskier has a very well known symbol in this world. Thankfully one that Nadine likes and makes for a beautiful artistic design.]

I'm impatient! You know this!

[He has never hidden any part of himself. And he can be patient, only when he's forced to be, or if it's with a child. Luckily, he knows Nadine will give in, which gives him a distinctive advantage.

He considers with a purse of his lips. Maybe she won't give in... that easily.]

My first guess would be my handsome face, but I considered that and decided I do not actually wish my face to be on anyone. [He has limits to his ego, thank you. Like a normal person.] And I don't think you'd want it either -- especially when you have the real thing. So... [He considers. Now, his ego is enormous, yes, and he does hold his title in absolutely the highest regard, but that isn't what comes to mind first. When Jaskier thinks of himself, he knows what he thinks of first.]

A bit of music? One of the songs I've written for you, perhaps?

[He does not really know what people do when they decide to have their skin painted upon. What appeals to them the most. What it feels like to choose something they will look at forever.]

There is a bit of music in it.

[And of course it's notes from one of Jaskier's compositions. What else would she use? So he's gotten part of it right already.

Nadine's excited for when he sees the entire design. All of the elements are symbolic of one of them, and work together. Like them. Different elements that work in harmony.]

I do have the drawing in my pocket, if you'd just like to see it. Or we can keep playing the guessing game until we get to the tattoo place. Your choice.

Ah! I knew it!

[Even if it took a moment for him to get there. Still. Music. Yes, that's absolutely him, of course. He can't even say it's so obvious because -- well, yes, it is, but he loves it still.

He wants to be thought of as music. He wants to be the first thought when there is music in the air. (Of course, he also wants it to be his music, so.)

Jaskier claps his hands together.] No, no, that's it. I only wanted a hint! That's perfect. I know I'll love it, because you must. [He almost dances between one step and the next, this energy in him crackling like lightning.] Oh, I have this wonderful feeling that keeps mixing with a very cold fear. Is that what all tattoos are like?

[He's not sure. It's not a bad fear. Maybe one if she is going to regret it one day. But he hardly thinks of the future like that. It's... a few of something completely new.]

I think so. Or close to it.

[It's hard to say. Nadine's other tattoo had been a special circumstance. It wasn't something she wanted, but a precaution. One that's proven to be necessary. Besides, she'd been in the middle of a tavern with her skirt up around her hips and her legs open. Not the most comfortable experience.

This is something different, but she knows what Jaskier means. It's a strange sort of nervous excitement.

The cold of Nocwich is always a bit of a shock, coming from Cadens. The air may be getting cooler in the desert, but it only cools down so much. The land of night is much colder.]

You know, I've heard that once someone starts getting tattoos, they start getting more and more.

[There's a teasing note in her voice. She's not sure if she's the sort of person to get a whole bunch of tattoos. Or how much stock she puts in what she's heard.]

[A fair point that he perhaps should have asked someone who has them for, er. Fun? One must imagine such a thing is fun for. Certain peoples.

He shivers a little as the temperature changes quite abruptly, but he's quite lucky in that the heat of the desert has done little to dissuade him from wearing his coats, which he did not pay out the ass to tailor and embroider in order to let them be eaten by moths in a closet.

He takes her hand on the other side of the portal, his thumb tracing a lovely little vein across the back of her hand.] Is that so? And who shall be your muse next? That young little minx you've been having on the side? [Obviously, Jaskier is the main course here.]

Uh....kind of, actually, but not like that.

[Nadine laughs a little and squeezes his hand affectionately.]

He has a lot of tattoos. They all mean something different. And I think that's what matters to me. Any tattoos I get, I want them to be meaningful. I don't know, maybe I'll get one for when I graduate medical school.

[That's very meaningful. And there's something appealing about commemorating something that way, as art on her very skin. Important milestones and things like that.

It's the whole reason they're heading to the tattoo parlor right now. Jaskier, and what's between them, is something that deserves to be commemorated.]

But for now...this is just for us.

Oh! I see. A sort of... permanent set of metaphorical stepping stones.

[One representing a new step forward in life. He likes that idea. Quite a lot, actually. He personally thinks achievements are always worth celebrating -- especially ones like her graduation to a full-time healer.

He cannot help but think of the images becoming the notes of a song. Only when all the notes are taken in, played one after another, does sound become song. Like the experiences in a life.

As he pauses in the light under the parlour's swinging sign, he leans down to kiss her.] I love the sound of that.

[The word is dangerous territory, but one can love sounds. Sounds are easy to love. As when he holds her hand, stepping inside with her, he also knows that there are plenty of other things even easier to love.]

Yeah, exactly. Like...a roadmap of my life.

[That only she or those very close to her can read, and just looks like a collection of art to the casual observer. The more Nadine thinks about it, the more she likes the idea.

And she likes that he does. Not that she needs Jaskier's approval to do anything at all, but it's still nice.]

I love the sound of that, too.

[She knows what he's saying, and what she's saying in turn. It's always been this way. She's getting better, closer to it. The more time and distance that comes between her and her past the less she hears Flagg in her dreams, in the echoes of her memories.

Besides, she's getting a permanent symbol representing her feelings on her skin. That says more than any word ever could. Already she has the drawing in her free hand as they enter, ready to present it to the artist for her own turn in the chair.]

[He knows. It is enough for him. Jaskier has never asked for the words, and truthfully, he never... he never would have imagined, playing music outside of her domain with his charm and his swagger would lead to this.

He is with her through every step. When she sits in a seat, and the artist traces the art onto her skin. Now is when he sees it for the first time, resting above her breast. It is enough, far more than enough, to take his breath away.

A funny thing, that he is the one who needs to hold her hand, to squeeze it. The art is him. There is no question about it.

Are you sure? He's already asked once, but his eyes watch her face and sees that yes, she is.] I'll be with you through all of it.

[Perhaps he doesn't mean the tattoo itself.]

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you've never danced like this before [open]

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