[It may be incredibly silly to be showing off a bunch of fucking berry plants to a man who'd just been kidnapped and tortured, but... Jaskier can't think of much else to do. There is some amount of pride he gets over looking at them, knowing they are his and his alone. A magic that, as far as he has experienced, no one else shares. Gifted alone to him, as he likes to imagine. As if the Singularity expected him to do something with it.]
Of course they are. What kind of idiot makes sour berries? [But the smile he shoots Geralt is soft around the edges. Roach had liked them very much as well, and he'd even stuck a few in his loaves for experimentation. Of course, they'd all sunk to the bottom and made a mess in the pan.
Jaskier does join him, crossing his legs neatly underneath. The grass, too, is his; soft and even, but growing wildly as the soil rights itself over time. A few yards away are flourishes of flowers across graves, ringing around the headstones. Lilies with spots of orange across their petals, and golden centers. They rest their petaled heads against the headstones like lovers left behind. Dandelions pop up randomly through the grass, swaying with the wind.
And further still is Alucard's cactus, now with smaller cactuses spotted around it, all flourishing with pink and white buds.]
Ciri talks too much. [He turns to Geralt with a tugging of his lips, his tone deeply affectionate.] If she's to tell you everything, what stories will I regale you with? [From the slow way his friend sat, he begins to think that potion did nothing at all.] Worry not, there's plenty still for you to devour yourself. As I'm sure you are far too eager to, of course.
[The bushes around them sway as a breeze cuts through the cemetery. After all of Jaskier's work, the place no longer smells of dirt or the dead.] Nothing goes sour there anymore. The bread doesn't mold, even from weeks ago. The berries never rot when I pick them. [His gaze moves down to his hand, where his fingers rub together.
He is not sure when to bring it up. Or if he even should. Yet not once has he ever hidden anything from the Witcher. Except, perhaps, the depths of his odorous inclinations when returned from a hunt.] Another gift of magic from our most stony patron, I believe.
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Of course they are. What kind of idiot makes sour berries? [But the smile he shoots Geralt is soft around the edges. Roach had liked them very much as well, and he'd even stuck a few in his loaves for experimentation. Of course, they'd all sunk to the bottom and made a mess in the pan.
Jaskier does join him, crossing his legs neatly underneath. The grass, too, is his; soft and even, but growing wildly as the soil rights itself over time. A few yards away are flourishes of flowers across graves, ringing around the headstones. Lilies with spots of orange across their petals, and golden centers. They rest their petaled heads against the headstones like lovers left behind. Dandelions pop up randomly through the grass, swaying with the wind.
And further still is Alucard's cactus, now with smaller cactuses spotted around it, all flourishing with pink and white buds.]
Ciri talks too much. [He turns to Geralt with a tugging of his lips, his tone deeply affectionate.] If she's to tell you everything, what stories will I regale you with? [From the slow way his friend sat, he begins to think that potion did nothing at all.] Worry not, there's plenty still for you to devour yourself. As I'm sure you are far too eager to, of course.
[The bushes around them sway as a breeze cuts through the cemetery. After all of Jaskier's work, the place no longer smells of dirt or the dead.] Nothing goes sour there anymore. The bread doesn't mold, even from weeks ago. The berries never rot when I pick them. [His gaze moves down to his hand, where his fingers rub together.
He is not sure when to bring it up. Or if he even should. Yet not once has he ever hidden anything from the Witcher. Except, perhaps, the depths of his odorous inclinations when returned from a hunt.] Another gift of magic from our most stony patron, I believe.