abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] tell them that the villains on my list

[ Thank goodness for Jaskier. He manages a much more eloquent thank-you than Ciri's fishlike gaping. Her brain suddenly feels like a sieve, thoughts falling out before they can fully form, sliding away.

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?

Edited 2021-11-25 07:34 (UTC)

[He knows she doesn't get it, and that it's not Julie's fault, when Geralt would never bring it up. People simply don't do this for Witchers. Even now, after all his work, he can't imagine there'd be a man alive on the Continent who would pull a bloodied, broken Witcher into their home, that they barely know, especially when he's fleeing from a kingdom. It is impossible to describe how special this makes them. How... unbelievably human.

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?]

[ She hands over the whiskey to Ciri, gently runs her fingers through Jaskier's hair. Her goal had been to alleviate their worry, and though she senses some small amount of accomplishment on that end, she also feels like she's increased it in other ways. The whole thing is incredibly fucked up, but at this precise moment, only one of the three of them needs to fret over him, and Julie's the one with his blood on her clothes, under her nails. There's nothing productive about the two of them stewing over this before Geralt even makes it back to them.

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.

[ Unfortunately, though Ciri wants to say exactly what Jaskier did, to insist, she knows that Julie is right. What's important is that Geralt is safe and among allies. He's on the mend.

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. ]

I know. Feel like an arse if I don't say it out loud.

[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?

[ Julie has never met a personal boundary she wasn't afraid to break like glass. She'd say it could be chalked up to her time in isolation, which does strange things to one's ability to interact normally, but the truth is that she has always been quick to touch and grab and push, and whatever else she feels like. How other people want to deal with it is their problem.

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.

[ That actually gets a small smile out of Ciri, the fact Julie's so determined to force him to take it easy and Jaskier's encouraging it (as he should). That only convinces her that Geralt is in good hands. ]

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.

[He only nods with a sigh. It's nothing about being a monster or not. Plenty of people have let lesser men die for nothing. It's... it's simply the way the world works. And how the world views Witchers.

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 protégé 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.

[ She has gotten a very brief explanation of what, exactly, it means to be a Witcher, and there have been allusions made to the way their world treats them, but she still doesn't truly get it. But she has been very clear to Geralt that she thinks their world is especially shitty, even compared to her own, because at least no one back home was taking little kids and forcing mutations on them, then hating them for that exact fact.

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.

Edited 2021-11-28 00:09 (UTC)

[ Ciri's smile is tight and tired, too weighed down with worry to be described as happy, but it's genuine. ]

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.

Oi. [He has no energy to chase after his strawberry, though, and honestly he's so relieved by the news he thinks Julie does deserve a Horizon-berry. He snorts at her comment, swallowing the cocktail in his mouth.] You're not the only one who's dragged him out of the muck. With, thankfully, no broken backs. But don't think you owe me much after this.

[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.

[ Julie takes Ciri's hand with a smile, one that quickly fades into disgusted confusion, because what are they talking about? There's no way their world is so incredibly sad that they're keeping roaches as pets, right? The thought alone makes her want to gag. ] I'm sorry, what now? Roach? Like... like a roach? A spoilt roach? How do you even spoil a fuckin' roach?

[ 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.

[ Ciri stares at her, taking her hand back slowly. She blinks, the gears in her head turning practically audibly as she tries to figure out why Julie is making a face like that, repeating roach, roach like it's some sort of bad word or horrifying concept.

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. ]

[A what? Why is that so confusing? Jaskier slowly lowers his glass from his lips with a small knit between his brows, gazing levelly at Julie as he tries to --

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.

[ WOOOOOW Julie does not appreciate this reaction. They are the ones calling a horse "Roach", like that's a normal name to give anything that is not an actual cockroach. Especially not when she has to clarify like eighty percent of everything she mentions to all these absurd old-timey people. They don't even know what most animals are, and they're out here naming animals after each other? There's a billion names they haven't even used yet! And laughing at her when she's confused?

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.

[ Ciri is wheezing. She's collapsed on the bar with her head in her arms, crying more out of sheer relief and shock at everything else than because it really is that funny. Certainly not funny enough to warrant such an explosive reaction.

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.

Oh, my. [Oh, no. Julie's reaction is what really makes him laugh.] Are you actually mad?

[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.]

I'm not mad. [ She's not. Angry Julie is a violent mess. This is... lightly peeved, at most. Lightly Peeved Julie steals strawberries (is it really stealing if it's imaginary and in her own domain? She argues it's not) and pouts. ] I just think it's real ironic that y'all question every single thing I say, but the one time y'all confuse me, it's suddenly the funniest thing in the world.

[ 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?

[It's definitely stealing. That was his mind energy, thank you.

She's absolutely a little annoyed, and it. Sorry, Julie, it's just funny, all right? They're medieval bumpkins and they've spent every ounce of energy and brain cells that had. Weeks of worry is. A lot. For them, especially.

Jaskier calms himself down by taking a long draw of his drink until it's completely empty, setting the glass down. He clears his throat.]

I do appreciate it, dear heart. [He can have cute nicknames, too. He reaches for her hand and gives it a very appreciative kiss to the knuckles.] Really. It's... it's been a lot. I'm only glad to hear he's alive. And, hopefully, only caused you to burn minimal amounts of time and energy.

[He has a sense she did not actually mind losing either of those.]

I think so. But please, if you need anything, if we can help... we're just a mind-letter away.

[ Ciri comes up for air eventually, makeup streaked down her cheeks and bangs rumpled in all directions. It's a heavy sort of relief, almost as painful as the worry; even here, she feels lightheaded. Ciri pushes up off the bar shakily, moving to stand so she can reach better. ]

Thank you.

[ Voice soft, raw, squeezed with effort past the lump still in her throat.

Ciri reaches out, and pulls Julie into a long, tight hug. ]

[ Julie snorts softly, lets Jaskier kiss her hand while she squeezes his fingers, but then Ciri grabs her and Julie wraps both arms tightly around her, making soothing little cooing noises. This whole thing has been so stressful, and Julie's only been involved for like, two hours -- she can only imagine how overwhelmed Ciri must be. ]

Oh, babydoll, there's not a single thing to thank me for. [ She leans back a little, takes a makeup wipe from thin air and gently cleans the streaks of eyeliner off Ciri's face. ] I promise. We'll get all this shit taken care of. Just go to bed and get some rest.

[ She is, of course, assuming that Ciri is at home, and not in a medieval drunk tank for a murder spree. Most people do not decide that unprovoked homicide is the best way to handle their emotions, but Julie can respect it, too. ]

[He can't help but let escape another laugh at the woman calling Ciri something as absurd as babydoll -- and yet somehow, in her lilting accent, it simply flows out as natural as anything. A gentle sort of nickname. Affectionate.

He does not need to ask Geralt's state of mind to know he must be utterly fucking perplexed by this. That these women would house and heal him, without him offering anything in return. And now he watches Ciri, Geralt's daughter by all accounts -- hers and Destiny's own -- holding her tight.

There really is a chance for things to right themselves again.]

Yes, well. [He glances at Ciri, who is not very capable of going to her own bed right now. The others needn't know. With how wound up he feels himself, sleep is out of reach. But there's plenty he can do to get his hands busy.] We really should, Ciri. Both of us. It's been... an unending few weeks.

[He wipes the existence of his drink away to clean up.] Though staying here and getting drunk is quite an appetizing idea, we have preparations to make.

[ Ciri doesn't even protest the silly term of endearment. It sounds affectionate when Julie says it, a warmth and understanding in her voice that nearly makes her start crying again. For a few moments, Ciri just... lets herself be held, relaxing into the embrace and closing her eyes, taking a few long, grounding breaths. Julie always smells nice.

An unending few weeks is certainly one way to put it. Ciri would have slipped a fucking in there for good measure, too.

She manages a faint -- but genuine -- smile as Julie wipes her face. And she allows it, the small comfort in this place, a step away from reality. Not that she particularly cares about the cold cell or the lumpy little cot her physical body is on; that's the least of her worries, not even worth bringing up. ]

You're right. [ Both of them. She pulls away, rubbing her eyes and undoing most of Julie's work with the makeup wipe. ]

I will sleep better tonight, at least.

Take care of yourself too, Julie.

[ CLOSED ] tell them that the villains on my list

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