[It's so much to take in, so much, and yet she just. Keeps on going. Jaskier covers his face again simply because he doesn't have the energy to control the expressions that roll across it. Sweet Melitele, come down and suffocate him in your golden tits. This is too much.]
Oh. Oh, of course. The Wild Hunt, too. Yes, can't do anything without them.
[You know, the mythological Wild Hunt that definitely does not exist, mostly used as a boogeyman to lure children to bed on time. The Wild Hunt was after Ciri because some Elven blooded bullshit made her the equivalent of a legendary artifact or something. Which could blow people up.
As one does.
He drops his hands suddenly with exasperation and, perhaps surprisingly, irritation.] Cirilla, the Lion Cub of Cintra, and my very dear friend, I know your biggest worry right now is not attempting to throw us back into our own plane. You have got to be fucking kidding me. How on earth could you even be thinking about that right now? [He gestures wildly, wincing when the movement hurts, but not stopping.] With all this shit happening to you? How are you even so calm? I would be losing my entire head!
[And screaming about it, and letting everyone absolutely know he was in the biggest trouble of his life. And she told Geralt about this? And that fucking beast kept it from him? (Okay, he can't blame Geralt, but he's annoyed and scared and it's easy to be annoyed with Geralt.)]
This only means we must double down on our lessons. No more birds. Or -- birds, if you'd like, but we need control first. A base level. Establishment of... of restraint and respect, on equal levels, for this power you hold.
[And his own, even if it is nothing compared to hers. It's all so reflective of himself. Hers did far more damage, but if she hadn't been able to stop it, would he have -- would she be all right? From the power those vines had exhibited? He couldn't let that happen again. Not because he was in danger. Not because he could not control them.]
no subject
Oh. Oh, of course. The Wild Hunt, too. Yes, can't do anything without them.
[You know, the mythological Wild Hunt that definitely does not exist, mostly used as a boogeyman to lure children to bed on time. The Wild Hunt was after Ciri because some Elven blooded bullshit made her the equivalent of a legendary artifact or something. Which could blow people up.
As one does.
He drops his hands suddenly with exasperation and, perhaps surprisingly, irritation.] Cirilla, the Lion Cub of Cintra, and my very dear friend, I know your biggest worry right now is not attempting to throw us back into our own plane. You have got to be fucking kidding me. How on earth could you even be thinking about that right now? [He gestures wildly, wincing when the movement hurts, but not stopping.] With all this shit happening to you? How are you even so calm? I would be losing my entire head!
[And screaming about it, and letting everyone absolutely know he was in the biggest trouble of his life. And she told Geralt about this? And that fucking beast kept it from him? (Okay, he can't blame Geralt, but he's annoyed and scared and it's easy to be annoyed with Geralt.)]
This only means we must double down on our lessons. No more birds. Or -- birds, if you'd like, but we need control first. A base level. Establishment of... of restraint and respect, on equal levels, for this power you hold.
[And his own, even if it is nothing compared to hers. It's all so reflective of himself. Hers did far more damage, but if she hadn't been able to stop it, would he have -- would she be all right? From the power those vines had exhibited? He couldn't let that happen again. Not because he was in danger. Not because he could not control them.]