[ OPEN / CLOSED ] i think i found a way to kill the sun

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: December
Where: Cadens, Horizon
What: Some catching up now that he's home
Warnings: Discussion of trauma; nsfw marked



(( placing starters in the comments below. find me at discontinued or at Noa#1979 to plot stuff! ))

Comments

[cointosser]

[Jaskier really must spend time with both of them more often, because he thinks it's an utter delight to see Geralt fold under Ciri's pressure. He doesn't even complain! This, he thinks, is what... it's what he liked imagining, the first time Geralt told him of her.

That she was here. And far from a child. Even without memories, he's powerless against her.]

You will be delighted to know that I'm insisting we all take in a bit of the local culture. [He threads his fingers through Geralt's hair, twisting a bit up as he weaves one of the flowers into it. He respects Geralt enough to make sure the rest is simply tied in a ponytail. As he so loves.] I met a mage at a theatre called The Cat -- the theatre, not the mage -- a few weeks ago, and the shows there are fantastic. And afterwards, because I'm sure you'll both be simply riling with energy, we drink! I know, it sounds brilliant. Possibly the best night your lives. You're welcome.

[wiedzminka]

[ With Jaskier apparently taking the other side, Ciri helps brush Geralt's hair with more amusement than effectiveness, largely leaving the bard to do his work while she messes with the occasional strand (and the wine bottle). When he's ready for it, she hands Jaskier the flower. ]

Possibly. [ She laughs, going along with it. ]

Well. I, for one, would like to see a show. Jaskier was telling me how intricate the sets are. What do you say, Geralt?

[ As if he has any choice. ]

[gynvael]

[ Delighted. He is certainly that. Geralt makes a vague noise of displeasure as Jaskier winds the flower into his hair, one that seems to be more for show than any real annoyance. The bard and Ciri are both enjoying themselves far too much.

He glances up at Ciri. She looks eager at the prospect alone, though he truthfully does not need convincing. He gave in the moment he agreed to leave Sam's place with Jaskier. They all know that. ] Fine. But we return before midnight.

[ Just in case. Look, he isn't getting caught in the streets if any fallout from the Dimming begins to spill into the city.

He reaches up with a frown to find the rest of his hair loosely pulled back. Aside from the flower Jaskier weaved in, that's the only change to how he normally wears it. It's. Acceptable. As far as these things go. ]

[cointosser]

[He smirks at Ciri.] I take away the possibly. Obviously, it's the best night of your lives.

[They cannot claim it was any particular monster hunt or kill, mostly because Jaskier would not have been there. And here he is. He's even... peppy. He's peppy, as if he's finally remembered there is energy that runs through his veins. Inspiration has not exactly struck his head and rattled its magical energy through his quill quite yet, but he no longer spends every waking moment in this tightly coiled anxiousness. (And neither are his nights so restless.)

With the flower expertly braided into Geralt's hair, he gives the top of his head a pat to indicate its finish. There. Presentable.] I'm not against it, though I do find it very amusing for a Witcher to give himself a curfew.

[He sweeps out of the room, returning with his new hat perched and angled perfectly on his head to be both jaunty and to show off the flower tucked behind his ear. The hat, Ciri has been introduced to, but Geralt has yet to experience the full effect. And no, he will not remove it.] Then let us be off, my fine, snow-haired friends. It's a sort walk towards the entertainment district, and I procured us some very good seats.

[wiedzminka]

Spilling over with confidence, aren't we? Even before the drinks.

[ She's teasing. Jaskier's put effort into this, she knows -- and a bit of coin, for those seats. Ciri might be more genuinely excited in the entertainment itself than Geralt seems to be, but she is also indulging the outing mostly because they are together. They could go watch a single very bad juggler throw a ball up and down, and she wouldn't complain (too much). The point is they're going out, the three of them, and Geralt is well enough to grumble about it and go along anyway. It's perfect.

Ciri reaches out to adjust the flower, which needs no adjusting, fingers brushing his temple.

The curfew is... a small reminder, but she won't let it ruin her mood. Ciri only nods, understanding. There is nothing they can do from here, and nothing she wants to do near the damn monolith itself -- so it's best to just ignore it, try to keep her mind occupied, and enjoy the company beside her. ]

Come on, Geralt!

[ Ciri urges, pulling him out of the chair by the hand. ]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt allows Ciri to pull him to his feet, though his attention is quickly distracted by the feathered monstrosity that Jaskier is now wearing. He blinks once. Where the fuck—? ]

Did you procure an extra seat for that beast upon your head?

[ That's all he says, because he already aware Jaskier will not remove it. Jasker is probably wearing it because he knows Geralt will find it an eyesore. (Merely looking at it gives him a headache.) Instead, Geralt simply moves towards the door alongside Ciri. If they're to go, they may as well go, elaborate headpieces and all. He'd hate to be late to their grand outing.

Besides, they're both clearly in a good mood despite everything. Geralt is disinclined to do much to stifle that—especially as he's sensed Ciri is...nervous, about the Dimming. The Singularity. She's said little about it, but it isn't too hard to understand why tonight of all nights she wants a distraction or that Jaskier has found more than one reason to have planned this event.

At least the city seems calm, as they step out into the streets. Boisterous, as usual, but calm. If there's one upside to the Dimming's various festivities, it's that it seems to have taken some of the people's minds off of Solvunn's mishaps during Eifstide. Though he's certain the fire will be stoked again soon enough. ]

[cointosser]

[Jaskier smacks the Witcher's shoulder.] My friend, you've never had an eye for fashion in your life. And I'd prefer you keep your commentary to yourself until I've decided to make my entire wardrobe black and stained with blood.

[Absolutely, he is not removing it. It goes perfectly well with the dark blue doublet he's procured himself, embroidered with (expensive) teal loops at the collar. A bit of retail therapy is what it is, if he knew the term. Something to push the previous month even further out of his head.

Jaskier helpfully leads their merry band, though his steps are on par with Ciri and Geralt's both. He chatters airily about the show they're about to see, how he met Sypha, the mage who controls literal weather movements during the show. How it must be seen to be believed.

Though he stops them at a market stand full of glowing jewelry. Rings, bracelets, necklaces, even something akin to diadems. He laughs, picking up a necklace with a glowing circle on a long chain, passing a coin over to the market's owner.] If anything is to come of this horrid celebration, at least the decor has its flare. Would you like one, Ciri? I can already guess our grumpier company's answer.

[wiedzminka]

[ Geralt's reaction is only to be expected, but it still makes Ciri laugh in its predictability. She defends Jaskier and his hat, proclaiming herself more knowledgeable where it comes to fashion than Geralt, with Jaskier to back her up. It is easy, pleasant banter back and forth as they make their way down the street, and when the conversation turns to the show and the mage's name, Ciri mentioned also that she's met Sypha, launching into the story of their misunderstanding in the desert and the mule named after Sypha's cousin.

Until Jaskier pauses at the market. They are pretty trinkets, even in their frivolity. She doesn't give a damn about this holiday, and neither does Jaskier, but she appreciates the gesture. ]

I'd love one. Thanks.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt does not point out that it is black, so that it's more difficult to see when it's stained with blood. Which it frequently is. Not right now, though.

They stroll through the streets together. Geralt brings up the rear, listening to Jaskier chatter up ahead. Despite himself, he's content to be out here. It isn't what he'd have done on his own, but alongside Jaskier and Ciri both, it's all right. He glances at the strange trinkets on display over Jaskier's shoulder, giving an absent sound of acknowledgement at whatever it is either of them might show him.

Brightly glowing jewelry, for one. It's possible he'd have not been opposed if Jaskier hadn't already affixed a glowing flower to his hair. Two glowing items attached to him is a bit much. He'll pass. ]

You shine enough for the both of us. [ He does, however, quietly pay for a few sweet rolls when they walk by another stall, which he splits between them without comment. ]