wiedzminka: (one hundred & fifteen.)
ℭ𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 𝔬𝔣 ℭ𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔞 ([personal profile] wiedzminka) wrote in [community profile] abraxaslogs 2021-12-11 10:19 am (UTC)

[ It isn't fair.

She's so tired. Jaskier is tired too, and Ciri doesn't want to put this on him also, but--

Well. Here they are. As soon as she thought she'd found her footing, the floor shifts again, and the whole world becomes rearranged. ]


I- I'll try. I don't know--

[ She shakes her head, as if the motion will help clear away the insect hum inside her brain. Pacing back to the table, Ciri stops again, leaned over with both hands on the tabletop and staring at the empty space there with furrowed concentration. Jaskier may understand from the faraway look in her eyes, like she's seeing something that's not there. She reaches out.

It's only a minute or two later (it might feel like a lifetime, Ciri standing stock still at the kitchen table, fingers gripping the edge of the table white-knuckled) before she seems to lose whatever battle she was fighting in her head. Ciri's strength leaves her. She drops back into the chair. Her head falls into her hands, palms pressed against her eyes. Voice quiet, utterly drained. ]


Please... pour me a drink.

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