[ open ] gonna keep movin', gonna roll to town

[falcony]

WHO: sam wilson and OPEN
WHAT: various prompts, some closed, some open! (open log for oct/nov)
WHEN: End of October/November
WHERE: cadens, desert around the city, horizon, etc.
WARNINGS: n/a atm but will update

Comments

[cointosser]

[As the two of them find a calmer rhythm for their breaths, so, too, does Red settle. The bird's feathers begin smoothing down, the snapping of his beak and the low noises quieting. His legs tucked down as the bird perched, sharp eyes softening.

There was quiet between them. And perhaps that was part of the problem. Jaskier had seen so many people in this house when he was healing, giving them a wave or a small chat as he gathered his breakfast. There was always the creaking of floorboards as people moved around, or light chatter, or the cabinets closing. Now, it was so terribly quiet.

Jaskier holds him, and breathes with him, and even hums a song under his breath. Waiting for as long as his friend needs. (Giving himself this moment where his mind latches onto nothing. A place where he cannot entertain the thought that his friend has --)

Sam finally says something -- or attempts to, with a laugh and a cough, and though the situation is far from amusing, Jaskier allows him to pull up with a smile of his own.] I said it was all right. Don't you listen?

[Clearly not. Jaskier watches him through his half-hearted attempts at laughing, peering through the guise they try to raise. What he sees in Sam's face allows him to let go of his hand, though he stays close, moving his hand to Sam's leg instead.] You were a bit too busy, I imagine, to notice. But it creeps up on us all. [He sets a hand on his shoulder now, rubbing his thumb there.] A lot has happened, very swiftly, all at once. And you have handled it expertly.

[falcony]

[ there’s something to say about the way that red’s settling seems to encourage sam’s own. for only having the bird around for a couple of months, now, red’s become so much a part of sam’s every day as breathing, and the thought strikes him suddenly.

jaskier’s bird, jaskier’s magic, jaskier’s patience, and sam falling apart at the seams.

there’s a smile and sam manages a laugh and he feels a little better, if only for the fact their conversation seems to start moving. sam shakes his head to jaskier’s question, holding back on another apology. alright, alright, yes. jaskier says it’s fine, but that does little for sam’s own internal voice - you know better than this.

jaskier’s words are comforting, or trying to be, with his hand on sam’s knee, but he says you were a bit too busy and sam huffs, rubbing a hand across his face. ]

Yeah, well. [ i can’t afford to let it creep up. sam presses his lips together and shakes his head. ] I wouldn’t call any of that expert. [ he offers jaskier a small smile, though there’s something self deprecating about it, a bit sheepish. he feels worn through, frayed and exhausted and rough around the edges, like a string that had been pulled too taut and stretched and then let loose, after. his head is still pounding, too, but that will probably take a few hours for that to fade. ] But thank you, all the same, for all of that.

[cointosser]

I know there's a "but" following that, and you're wise to keep it to yourself. There is no reason for a but.

[As if he doesn't have exquisite amounts of experience with this sort of... man. Someone who picks up the world and takes all of it at once, good or bad.

Perhaps nothing he says will smooth the moment over entirely. Human minds have never been that easy to satisfy. But he can't sit here and listen to his laughs, seeing his smiles, knowing they are forced. That they don't fit what just happened.]

Suffering tragedies, and carrying them, dealing with them, and moving on... yes, I would call it expert. [Or maybe he's trying to say it for himself. Strength for the road into the desert, where he still has yet to know what they'll find.] Here, stay here. I'm making you tea. And if you allow yourself to roil in guilt by the time I return, I will spill it on you.

[falcony]

[ sam snorts, once, at the tone that jaskier takes. he gets it, he does, and it's interesting to see the same thing sam would say if their situations were flipped said back to him. ]

Has anyone told you that you can be kinda bossy? [ there is little to no bite to the words, and if anything sam still sounds like he's trying to piece himself back together. it's still vaguely forced, but filling out with each passing second - with each breath, each moment that brings him further from the worst of it.

jaskier's not wrong, is the thing, and sam knows better than to try and let himself roil in the guilt. knows better than to let it suffocate him. which is why, when jaskier mentions tea, sam holds up his hands in a sort of surrender. ]

Yes sir. [ a beat, and then sam relaxes a bit more - like he's making the conscious decision to let jaskier do this, take care of him. ]

[cointosser]

[There's a sharp "Hah!" from the kitchen at Sam's little jest, while he sparks a fire and begins heating the water. He investigates through Sam's cabinets until he finds what he's looking for: a box he's stashed here many weeks ago for when Jaskier helps himself to Sam's food, which is more often than it really should have been. (Look. He was healing.) Inside are still a few sachets of soothing tea.

A whole pot of tea should be enough.

Jaskier wastes time in the kitchen to give Sam a time to himself to either clean up or pull the pieces back together. He picks things up, puts them down, reads a few handwritten labels. All very necessary things until the tea has steeped and the sugar's been added.

He returns bearing two full cups on saucers with little cookies surrounding them, and he offers one plate of both drink and dessert sternly.] You would not believe the amount of times I've heard it. [He picks up the conversation as if no time has passed, returning to his seat beside his friend.] Though I have to say, I don't mind hearing you call me sir every now and then.

[They aren't going until the morrow, so he has time to help prepare Red for the trek. Perhaps he needs this, too. A space to let all the coils in his body release. If only a tad.]

[falcony]

[ jaskier moves over to the other space, the other kitchen area, and sam takes the opportunity to deflate - leaning over and pressing his face into his hands. he doesn't need all that long, just a few moments of breathing, of centering, of piecing himself back together. just a few minutes where jaskier busies himself in the kitchen (a familiar enough sound, if he's being honest - jaskier spent a lot of time in there, not that long ago) and then sam can take a full breath, where he feels more himself, more whole.

as if timed, that is when jaskier returns back to the room carrying two cups and cookies, and sam makes a face that says where did those even come from? without needing to voice the question, moving over to give jaskier the space on the couch. ]

Didn't realize that was a thing for you, but somehow not surprised. [ there is something light and a bit easier in his tone than he's had so far, like he's actually relaxing as he takes a sip of some of the tea. ]

[cointosser]

[Jaskier knows the face. He has his ways. And... he'd very much enjoyed sweets during his recovery, when he could actually keep something down.

Despite this very hard knot in his stomach, he manages a choke of a laugh, quiet and ended too early. Sam, even in this state, is rather good company, he thinks. Even when he's here for Sam more than he'd meant to be.

It's a good place to be, too.]

A thing? [He pauses.] Ah, I see what you mean. Well, Sam, everything is a thing for me, given the right person.

[He looks a bit better, less of that awful pallour in his face. Jaskier's shoulder bumps his as he raises his cup to drink, and he begins to prattle: telling Sam that, with this new gift of his for plants, he's begun selling little herbs and things to the alchemists near the market. It's something to fill the air, to remind Sam, perhaps, that he is still a part of them. Red settles down, wings smooth, feet tucked in.

It gives him a sense that when he goes out with Ciri, it'll be fine. They'll find Geralt, hale and whole. Nothing out of the ordinary outside that... that Roach got away.]

wrapping up maybe? c:

[falcony]

[ honestly, what goes mostly unsaid, is how much of that simple gesture means a lot to sam. that jaskier knows where to go, knows where things are in sam's place even when sam isn't there to direct him. that jaskier not only knows where to go and feels comfortable in doing it, but that this whole thing - this whole exchange - has an air of familiarity to it. something grounded in many moments before. something that sam can set his feet on and feel (distantly, maybe) at home.

there is a large, geralt-shaped elephant in the room, but jaskier manages a laugh - even if it was only part of his real ones - and sam feels himself smiling a bit more too. he waits for jaskier to get there, feels himself roll his eyes a little. ]

I would be worried about everything, but the right partner does make all the difference.

[ he looks better, yes. and feels better. and with jaskier sitting close enough that it's easy to press back, to hold the contact while jaskier begins to prattle. interjecting when he needs to, feeling good just listening when he doesn't. it does fill the air, and really, that is the most of what sam needs - the reminder, the presence, the moment that feels normal and not different and that this is all what his life has become, lately.

the conversation takes as long as it needs to, and probably doesn't end until sam notices jaskier looking fidgety, or there is a distinct difference in the angle of the sun. either way, it's probably sam who sets down the now empty cup of tea and moves to stand, saying how jaskier needs to get going, how ciri is probably going a little crazy herself, how he needs to go find what geralt got himself up to. because things will be fine, sam feels it too.

it will be fine. ]