Jaskier "old-timey fuckboy" Alfred Pankratz (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cointosser) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2021-10-01 09:35 pm
cointosser) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-10-01 09:35 pm
[ CLOSED ] when I'm like this, you're the one I trust
Who: Jaskier, Ciri, Geralt, eventually Sam?
When: First week of October
Where: The desert outskirts of Cadens
What: Jaskier attempts to help Ciri learn magic with disastrous results.
Warnings: Bodily injury, may move to mild body horror depending.
[With the climate they found themselves in, it only made sense for them to really embrace their new... eccentric talents. At least, that was what Jaskier tells himself, and when he tells himself it -- regarding Ciri, in particular -- it all makes sense, of course. If they are all gifted with magic, then it only makes sense to make use of it.
After all, it's free. And they need skills to make a living off of. As far as he understands, Ciri is, er, well. Like Geralt. A hunter.
Magic, hunting. It all fits together.
Okay, fine. He's terribly bored also. And he's tired of being the only one with magic around here. (He's still avoiding the whole plant thing. He prefers not to think about it, actually.]
All right, my dear. I -- well, I don't claim to know many, er, spells, but we can start on what I started on. Simply a little bird. [He, of course, adds a completely unnecessary flourish to his movements, and a bit of sparks, holding out his hand with a dove sitting on his palm.]
It's a bit hard to describe. I sort of... imitated watching it, I suppose.
[He sort of definitely wants to see Ciri try to imitate his flourish.]
When: First week of October
Where: The desert outskirts of Cadens
What: Jaskier attempts to help Ciri learn magic with disastrous results.
Warnings: Bodily injury, may move to mild body horror depending.
[With the climate they found themselves in, it only made sense for them to really embrace their new... eccentric talents. At least, that was what Jaskier tells himself, and when he tells himself it -- regarding Ciri, in particular -- it all makes sense, of course. If they are all gifted with magic, then it only makes sense to make use of it.
After all, it's free. And they need skills to make a living off of. As far as he understands, Ciri is, er, well. Like Geralt. A hunter.
Magic, hunting. It all fits together.
Okay, fine. He's terribly bored also. And he's tired of being the only one with magic around here. (He's still avoiding the whole plant thing. He prefers not to think about it, actually.]
All right, my dear. I -- well, I don't claim to know many, er, spells, but we can start on what I started on. Simply a little bird. [He, of course, adds a completely unnecessary flourish to his movements, and a bit of sparks, holding out his hand with a dove sitting on his palm.]
It's a bit hard to describe. I sort of... imitated watching it, I suppose.
[He sort of definitely wants to see Ciri try to imitate his flourish.]
no subject
That's a relief. I think I am quite tired of questions, myself. Another day, perhaps.
[ The offer is there: she's not trying to exclude him or hide anything more. They're both just tired. Jaskier understands that much.
Ciri bites back a sigh at the mention of Yennefer's spat with Geralt; her smile slips. She wants to be understanding and let them figure out whatever it is they need to figure out, but it is frustrating to watch. She can only hope that Yennefer is okay. The last time they'd seen each other, in the Horizon, Ciri hadn't even been able to ask her questions about her situation in Thorne, and can only hope she's not wasting away in a cell still. Or worse. ]
...thank you, Jaskier. [ But you have no idea what you're talking about, she doesn't quite say aloud. Just mostly. ]
Many would call you foolish, but it's kind of you to think so.
I'm just glad you're well now. I'm certain there are apothecaries in Cadens that can mix an ointment for your arm. The scar is fresh. There are ways to help it fade.
[ She should know. ]
I'll ask around tomorrow. Promise.
no subject
Oh, please. People call me foolish for a million different things. Do you really think I listen anymore? [He pats her arm, giving her a classic Jaskier smile. He prefers to think on the positive side of things... because whatever she is considering about herself, could he not also imagine of his own magic? It's not the same, and it never will be, but to him, it's as dangerous as Wild Hunts and bloody prophecies. It can still kill him just as easily.
Exhibit 1, as he draws his arm back.]
You needn't bother. [He flexes his arm, tracing the scar with his fingers.] Don't you think it's fetching? I mean, now we all match! Perhaps one may mistake it for a very fierce war scar. Maybe I fought off a wolf, or -- or an elven assassin!
no subject
Now we all match! He says it so easily. He says it because he already forgives her, because he can already move his arm again due to being magically healed, because it won't affect his playing and it doesn't disfigure him or hinder him. He is lucky; Ciri is happy that all of these things turned out to be true for Jaskier, and that any sense he may have had of how much worse it could have been has already fled him. To him, it can be a grand adventure, a new tall tale to spin for every pretty thing he's wooing who might ask him coyly where he got it.
Ciri knows he won't tell them the truth for her sake, and he'll hide the shameful thing with lies and stories, much the same way she pulls her bangs over her face and lines her eyes to distract and obscure. ]
Scars don't suit bards. And besides, you'll be singing a different tune [ no pun intended ] when you find your arm stiffening and itching and your range of movement impaired. I'll go to market, and I'll bring you something, and you'll use it. You'll still have enough left to tell your stories.
[ And it gives her something tangible to do, to help. Maybe it's selfish, her motivation equal parts desire to help Jaskier and the need to assuage her own guilt. Oh, well.
Ciri unfolds her legs from beneath her, moving to stand. ]
I think Geralt could use a hand with supper. You need your rest.
no subject
That he knew of, at least.
He tips his head.] All that sounds awful. And you. You're awfully bossy, too. [When Jaskier lifts his eyes, his brows darken a bit as he tries to read her expression. It isn't like Geralt, who he feels he knows rather well inside and out. After all this time, he better. But Ciri is... an unknown. Surely she must know more of him than he knows of her.
His smile returns.] Very well, my lady. If you insist. [To be fair, he wouldn't mind skipping all that stiffening and itching. It does not sound very enjoyable.
He wonders if she's driving herself from him already on purpose. It's not in him to force her to stay.] Of course. Thank you for coming to check on me. [He gives her a little wave.] You must know I adore the doting attention.
[I do hope you'll be all right.]
no subject
I do insist. Enjoy the doting while you can.
Once you're better, we've got work to do.
[ What that will look like, she's not sure yet. But she accepts his offer, tentatively, vulnerably. She's scared, but he's right. She must learn how to take charge of whatever the Singularity's done to her control over her own magic; Jaskier's scar will be a daily reminder, after all. ]