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abraxaslogs2021-11-16 08:45 pm
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[ CLOSED ] tell them that the villains on my list
Who: Ciri, Jaskier, and others
What: Geralt has gone missing. Ciri and Jaskier are on the case.
Where: Around Cadens, the desert outside it, perhaps the other Free Cities; possibly Horizon and Network
When: Mid-November
Warnings: violence, gore, dismemberment
If you'd like to plot out a thread, please PM Ciri or Jaskier's journals, or catch us on Plurk at
belleteyn and
scathefire respectively!
What: Geralt has gone missing. Ciri and Jaskier are on the case.
Where: Around Cadens, the desert outside it, perhaps the other Free Cities; possibly Horizon and Network
When: Mid-November
Warnings: violence, gore, dismemberment
If you'd like to plot out a thread, please PM Ciri or Jaskier's journals, or catch us on Plurk at
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She lifts a hand and waves it without any real enthusiasm, the gold of her dress throwing little glitters of light across the floor. The getup is automatic when she comes to the Horizon, and it looks a bit off, because she is visibly tired.
Julie is wise enough to be straight to the point. ]
Hey y'all. I just wanted to let you know he's okay. He's with me, in Nott.
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I fucking hope it is.
[ Please don't let it be another problem on top of all their current ones.
When it's clear Julie isn't outside her domain, Ciri leads the way inside. It's... eerily quiet. But before she can panic, she spots Julie, whole and hale. Still, the slouch in Julie's posture, the way she holds her drink with several more around her (not the way Ciri had seen her do before, with that sense of wild abandon she'd had at the party), immediately makes Ciri's heart race anxiously.
Before she can ask what's wrong, Julie speaks.
Ciri stares at her. ]
W-what?
[ Realization crashes down so hard, she feels lightheaded. There's only one he she could mean, one name that jumps into her mind, but-- in Nott? It's nearly a week's ride just to Aquila, and that's considered a neighbor to Cadens. It should take at least three times as long or more, just judging by the maps she's seen, not even accounting for the weather and rough terrain.
And why?
She doesn't realize she's crossed the distance between them until the cool flat of the counter presses into her palm. Ciri searches Julie's eyes. ]
What happened?
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Hello, Julie --
[He blinks. He is okay. He is here.
Jaskier's head simply grinds to a fucking halt. What had he been imagining? Somehow he'd left something behind here, at the party? Nadine had informed Julie he was a prat? (Not sure why Ciri would be there except for the possibility of more humiliation.) This? Completely out of the fucking blue, if you ask him.]
What?
[He echoes Ciri: the same disbelief, the clenching in his chest. The way his breath is knocked out of him like he was punched.
Of course it's Geralt. Lose anything? They had. They'd lost him. So it wasn't misguided fear. He'd been lost. The blood. The traces of magic. In Nott.
Melitele's fucking tits.]
He's okay and he hasn't been answering any of my fucking messages?
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Closing her eyes for a second, she exhales purposefully and then begins speaking. ] All right, so like I said before, he's okay. By that, I mean that he's not exactly on death's doorstep, he'll heal up, but... it's real bad.
He said he was outside Cadens when people from Thorne snatched him up and brought him back to the castle. I asked him if he did anything to make Thorne want him, since otherwise, why him, right? And he told me that there's someone on the court that they thought was protectin' him. I don't know who and I don't know why, but I know that they sure as shit weren't protectin' him none, 'cause he rolled up on a horse about an hour ago, barely able to move without help.
[ She tosses back the second glass of whiskey and wrinkles her nose, shakes her head a little when the burn hits. She's exhausted, too exhausted to be drinking even here, but she's also wound up like a clock. ]
A mage helped him escape, sent him here 'cause Thorne don't pay us no mind. Jaskier, whatever they did to him, he could barely message me from down the road, so don't be mad. I brought him home and cleaned him up some, wrapped the worst of it. He's out like a light right now, and I'll get Nadine to look at him in the morning, she's trainin' to be a healer.
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How bad? she wonders, but she doesn't interrupt, one part of her reasoning that Geralt's been in terrible condition dozens of times before, that Julie simply doesn't know how much a Witcher can take and it's nothing to really worry about. Except that isn't true. This isn't Geralt taking a harder blow than usual, needing a bit of extra rest before he heads home. Not just a hunt gone bad.
It was deliberate. An attack. Thorne.
Ciri's breath catches, eyes gone wide. Before she can forestall it, before she can think, the pain of betrayal grabs her by the throat and squeezes until she can barely breathe.
Thorne had gone after Geralt... because of Yennefer? It has to be her. They thought she was protecting him. But why? And why would it matter? Ciri's thoughts spin sickeningly, and she barely keeps track of the rest of what Julie is saying, tuning in only to the most important information: that Geralt is seeing a healer, that he's safe, and that he's not alone. She manages a nod at Julie, grateful, but too stunned to speak.
Shaken, Ciri looks from Julie over to Jaskier. Over the last few days, he's seen her more upset and angry than he ever has before, but this time, she looks... lost.
How much does Thorne know? ]
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There are props to give to Julie for simply going all into it, but he is not in the mind to give it. He pushes the stein back so there's enough room to hold his head up in both hands, listening. The most quiet he's been in his life. Geralt is alive, and he is healing. It's bad -- it's bad, he thinks, to one who doesn't know him. Who hasn't seen the things Geralt has survived.
As much as Jaskier would like to think so, though, a Witcher isn't immortal. And if they had the power to take his mutations, to alter them, the one time --
Of course it's Yennefer. It's always bloody fucking Yennefer.
Jaskier lets out a sigh that takes his soul out with it.]
Fucking. All this time, that's what he meant. Not to go after Thorne. [And what did this mean? Did they get out of him what they wanted? Some knowledge that Geralt could have that would be this important? Spies in the Free Cities? The movements of Marlo?
He squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn't know how to thank them, the two of them. He was only thankful that any of them knew Nadine and Julie at all. That Geralt trusted them enough to show up like that.]
Fuck. [He drops his hands, wiping his face. He looks to Ciri, knowing his face mirrors hers.] He's all right, Ciri. We'll get him back. [And he turns back to Julie, takes her hand in both of his.] I don't know how to thank you. For bringing that fucking brute in. You and Nadine.
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Maybe even moreso that it's that way with Geralt. Doesn't that mean it would have been enough to kill anyone who wasn't magically fortified into a killing machine?
She squeezes Jaskier's hand, shaking her head again, but in dissent this time. There are many things she thinks she deserves praise for, but this is not one of them. This is just... not being heartless. ]
I'll tell you what I told him, there's nothin' to thank me for. It's just what you do for friends.
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We'll get him back, Jaskier promises. Beneath the words, unspoken, is the knowledge that they both understand exactly who is connected to Geralt in Thorne-- and that it's a conversation Julie does not deserve to be in the middle of. Yennefer's name is a bitter taste on the back of her tongue, swallowed back, settling like a rock in her chest.
She chases it with a swig of ale, then, deciding this needs stronger stuff, reaches for the bottle of whiskey. ]
Did he say anything about what he plans to do next?
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Before, he would have wondered if Geralt would ever use that word for Julie. Now he knows for certain he would -- should the word ever grace his stupid, beautiful lips.
He takes his hands back to wipe his face, to drink more. It doesn't bite like he wants it to, but even here, he wants a clear head. Somehow, finding out that all his worrying was justified doesn't make him feel any better. Go figure.]
If he made it to Nott... is he staying? Perhaps I can. I can ride, and come help.
[He knows it isn't happening even as he says it, but he can't not offer. Days upon days in the desert, and then the land beyond that he doesn't even know. And not a map on him. How long could a horse last?]
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Snorting softly, she bobs her foot where her legs are crossed, leans back on her hands. ]
Sugarbear, you ain't comin' to Nott. Even if it wouldn't take weeks on end, it ain't safe to cross the border. He's safe with me. We'll keep him a couple days, patch him up, then I'll get him back to Cadens.
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This is all good news, better than they've had in a week.
Ciri drinks directly from the bottle, feeling the whiskey burn all the way down, before handing it back to Julie. The grimace is part from the taste and the strength, and part from just... everything else. ]
Good. Make him get some rest. I know how he is.
[ Do not let her come after me. In context, she understands, even if it doesn't sting any less. Ciri slumps against the bar, folding one arm beneath her head to pillow her cheek as she watches Julie and Jaskier. She's being awfully familiar, but... Julie is like that, isn't she? She's a very warm person, Ciri thinks. If anyone can force their hospitality and care on Geralt, it'll be her. ]
We'll wait for him. But will you please promise me one thing? Tell me how he's doing, what he plans, when you know. If he won't--
I just... I can't stand the silence of not knowing.
[ Ciri knows Geralt doesn't like using the communication spell (or whatever it's called). And she has a sinking feeling he won't want to talk to her in particular. ]
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[And Geralt would call him a fool for thinking so, for saying it. It doesn't matter. He knows without asking Ciri would offer the same; that they would both head off together if they thought the journey was possible.
It is terribly familiar of her, but he can remember the two of them, slumped together. The ease of touch and familiarity. And truthfully, he could use it now; the comforting touch of someone he feels... he can trust. Even if he didn't already like Julie, if Geralt trusts her with his life, that says enough.]
Just bully him. It usually works. [Oh, look. He's found humor again somehow. The relief that's sweeping through him is so overwhelming that, even here, it feels sickening. The drink too heavy in his throat and stomach, churning like he might throw it back up.
All of that work they'd done in trying to find him... and they would never have found him.
He lifts his head with Ciri's comment.] Please. I know he won't do it. [Because he's a stubborn bastard.] And how is he planning on getting back here, anyway? If he's that hurt, he's not riding. Don't tell me you've... you've got some kind of those portals. You've a mage?
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She takes the bottle back, pours herself one more drink and chuckles at Jaskier's joke. ] Oh, trust me, he'll rest. He'll rest if I hafta to knock him clean out. I just... [ There's a pause and she watches the whiskey in her glass ripple. ] I dunno, I just wish he wasn't so surprised that I ain't leave him out to die. Only a fuckin' monster would do somethin' like that.
[ And it's not that she's so warm and helpful to total strangers, but he isn't a total stranger, and what does it say that he would think that when they have some semblance of a pre-existing relationship. Julie shrugs and takes a sip. ]
Yeah, we got mages. Nott's got all kinda magic, and it's different from the kind at the castle. Plus, everyone here hates the royals and the capital, so they'll do anythin' for gold. It's gonna cost a pretty penny, portal outta Thorne right now, but someone will take it on. I just gotta ask around.
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Don't take it personally, Julie. It's not that. Not a lot of folks where we're from would bring a Witcher into their home. Just how it is.
[ The worry does cross her mind that Thorne might still be after Geralt, that his fear of that must be the reason he hadn't reached out even after he escaped, that he's probably also concerned for Julie's safety if they follow him. But Ciri doesn't bring it up. Julie isn't stupid. She'd given Geralt a place to stay anyway, and the last thing Ciri wants is to sound even a little bit like she's trying to convince Julie otherwise.
At the mention of using a portal, Ciri seems to relax a bit, relieved. Better than trying to figure out how to get to Cadens on foot or horseback, especially if he's hurt as bad as it seems. ]
You have the coin? If there's anything we can do to help--
[ But what? They're across the whole damn continent. Useless, nothing to do but sit and wait, relying on Julie and Nadine's kindness. Which Ciri feels suddenly very lucky they have, but it's still frustrating as hell. ]
Fuck how far it is. I wish there was something I could do.
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Gods know that once Geralt returns (if he returns, an unhelpful voice supplies) that he'll be so surprised to find his long-time companion and his protΓ©gΓ© are pissed with him, that he left a trail of nothing, closed off communication, and then will press it was to keep you safe because he's an idiot.
Safe? Safe from a kingdom that can snatch one in the night, despite being a Witcher? When a dedicated duck could kill Jaskier as well? (Not Ciri, though. Maybe a large, rabid, dedicated bear.)
He sighs again, summoning himself a cocktail because, well, fuck it. He needs it. With a little slice of strawberry hanging onto the rim, knowing he'll look like a dick. Doing it anyway. He takes a long swallow and the syrupy sweetness sticks to his mouth. Just as real as anything.
He trusts them. He does. But until Geralt is really here, he can't relax.] We'll find some way to repay you. I think that's all we can do.
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Julie firmly believes that you should only hate people for choices they make and how much more money they have than you, thank you.
Making a small mmph noise, mouth full, she puts her glass to the side and takes the strawberry off Jaskier's glass, holding it to eat while she speaks. ] I have money, it's fine. And I already owe you anyway, Jaskier, so you let Geralt handle his own debts. He's a big boy.
I mean, literally. I half carried him upstairs, I thought I was gonna pass out.
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Commendable.
[ Setting her own empty cup aside, Ciri reaches out for Julie's hand.
She's so glad Julie was there, and that Geralt actually trusted her enough to reach out. It's a relief to know they have reliable allies, even so far away. ]
Thank you for telling us. I can sleep easier tonight, thanks to you.
If you'll tolerate acting as messenger just a little longer, I'd appreciate it if you could tell Geralt to focus on recovering and coming back to us. He doesn't need to worry about me. I'll do as he says.
[ In other words, she'll try not to do anything stupid and rash. At least not until he comes home. ]
Oh. Also, you should let him know that Roach is safe.
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[But a small woman like Julie, it waS a feat. Looking between the two women, he relaxes. Geralt is in rather good hands, to his luck. To all their luck.
Though he only raises a brow at Ciri's declaration, the sense that things are finally going right persists. They can... while not relax, not fully, they can. Trust. Even if it will not be easy to do.]
And very well taken care of. Rinwell spoils her. We'll get things set up for him in Cadens. If he can portal outside the walls of the city... [And he glances at Ciri at this, contemplative.] That would be safest.
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[ Her bewilderment is completely genuine. She is picturing an ordinary cockroach in a tank with toys and treats, and maybe like a pile of tasty trash, to spoil it. Her stomach turns. ]
I mean, I'll tell him, but bless y'all's hearts, that is... it's real gross.
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For a few moments, Ciri's not sure whether she should be offended on Geralt's behalf or what, blank-faced at Julie in bafflement.
And then, it seems to click. Roach. Like a cockroach.
Ciri opens her mouth to explain, to correct her, trying to imagine what Julie is thinking right now. But instead of words, an odd, wheezing noise escapes her. And then a snort.
And then she's laughing, with a bright edge of hysteria, gripping the bar and gasping for breath trying to stop. There are tears in her eyes, and her stomach hurts, and it's like a dam inside her has broken at last with this final, inane, absolutely ludicrous last straw.
It's simply. Way too much to process all at once.
All you, Jaskier. Ciri.exe has stopped working. ]
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Ah.
It is so far the response he expected.
And Ciri, too, apparently. Jaskier already sort of had his hysterical breakdown earlier, so he doesn't have the energy for it now. But to see that this is the form it takes in Ciri, all those coils that had been squeezing so tight in her releasing all at once... in the form of laughter?
Jaskier lets out a small laugh himself, and he pats his hand on Ciri's back as it shakes underneath his touch.
A release for the both of them.]
Are you seriously suggesting the idea that we, what? Put a little hat -- [Okay, now he's starting to laugh] a little hat on -- on a cockroach [oh, it's getting a little worse] and feed it tiny sandwiches?
[There's tiny tears at the corner of his eyes now.] Please, Julie. Gods. It's the name of his horse. Roach is his horse.
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This is Geralt's fault. She's going to punch him right in his sore arm tomorrow. Twice, one for each of them.
Mentally repeating that they have been through a lot, they are tired, they're on edge, she just sloooooowly sips her whiskey, eyes narrowed. ]
My bad. Where I'm from, we try not to name things we care about after disease-carryin' vermin. Saves on confusion.
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But after worrying after Geralt, never quite sure if he was still alive or dead, knowing he'd been ambushed and taken somewhere, and then finding out it was Thorne, and they'd hurt him that badly but he'd escaped-- Fuck. Everything in the desert. Jaskier almost dying (again). The discovery of her regained ability. Being approached by the soldiers and escorted to a cell. She hasn't slept in days. She hasn't let herself cry, or accept anything, focused only on pushing forward no matter that they had no idea which direction to go in.
All that, and now she's sitting at Julie's fake bar getting fake drunk while Julie paints images of Geralt riding a giant insect.
Gods, she's glad he's alive. ]
A- a roach is... it's a fish. She's just a little-- fish.
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[He can't tell. Honestly, it doesn't matter. Julie can be quite frustrated with them all she likes. Ciri's explanation just makes him snort and try to hide his further laughter in a long draw of his glass. Honestly, this is what she gets for stealing his strawberry in the first place.
Fuck. He's all right. He must be, if Julie is here, getting annoyed about a cultural mix-up. If one can call it that.
He rubs Ciri's shoulder as she breaks down into the bar.]
No one ever claimed he was good at naming his horses. Which are all named Roach, by the way.
[Now he's just needling her. Even though it's absolutely true.]
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[ Siiiiip. ] And we don't have fish called "roach" back home. [ They do, but in fairness, they're concentrated on the other side of the world, so there's no real reason she would have ever heard of them. ] Anyway, yes, I will use my time and energy to pass on y'all's message.
[ BECAUSE WHICH ONE OF THEM COULD HAVE LET GERALT DO THIS ON HIS OWN TIME (aka when he walked back through the door in Cadens)??? Exactly.
She's not really upset, just tired and petty. She still has to go back out to the stable and take the tack off the horse that she's now assuming is also called Roach despite not actually being owned by Geralt. Roach-ish. Roach 1.5. Roach X Pro. ]
Y'all gonna be okay now?
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