Jaskier "old-timey fuckboy" Alfred Pankratz (
cointosser) wrote in
abraxaslogs2022-01-17 02:29 pm
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[ OPEN/SOME CLOSED ] if I had to do it over, I'd do it all again
Who: Jaskier, Ciri, Geralt, Yennefer, Alucard, and some open prompts
When: Mid-to-Late January
Where: Cadens and the Horizon
What: Jaskier wakes from a vivid, nasty dream to physical evidence that it was unfortunately very real. He spirals, but like, only a little bit. It mostly involves getting drunk and buying hats to cope.
Warnings: Mentions of bodily injury/torture, maybe PTSD, heavy drinking
[Will be throwing starters (including open ones) down below! You can hit me up at
scathefire or #scathefire6612 if you'd like to plot anything or want an additional starter. Also, let me know if you'd like me to avoid S2 spoilers, because there will be a lot.]
When: Mid-to-Late January
Where: Cadens and the Horizon
What: Jaskier wakes from a vivid, nasty dream to physical evidence that it was unfortunately very real. He spirals, but like, only a little bit. It mostly involves getting drunk and buying hats to cope.
Warnings: Mentions of bodily injury/torture, maybe PTSD, heavy drinking
[Will be throwing starters (including open ones) down below! You can hit me up at
no subject
The door to the tavern does not bar him, and so Goro steps in, floorboards creaking under his weight. His attention is immediately attracted to the bar, and so completely misses Jaskier sprawled out on a table near the back.
Well, might as well avail himself of whatever spirits are available. Some of them might even be worthwhile. In the Horizon, who knows?
He strides across the tavern floor, stepping behind the bar to examine the liqours available. A massive hand takes one, uncorks it and Goro knocks it back.
He's barely managed a taste before he withdraws the bottle, and let's it drop to the floor with a crash. "Nnnh. Weak." The owner can surely summon up more later. It's no bother.
Maybe the next bottle.
no subject
Is the earth cracking, Moglad? [He asks, pushing himself to his feet with an annoyed grunt. In the fucking Horizon? Well, it's just his luck. He's only built the place, might as well crack it in half or something --
He turns around, just barely ducking out of Lukasz's snap at his hair, to.
What he's pretty sure is some sort of living wall of muscle and. Arms. Oh, those are arms. Is his vision blurring? Yes. It must be. Considering the number of them.
He flinches and Moglad lets out a tiny kupooooo... Wonderful. Now there's glass all over his floor. Wonderful.]
Well. By all means, help yourself. [He rubs his eyes. No, there's definitely still too many arms.] If you're going to take my drink, the least you can do is not smash the bottles all over the bloody floor. What, were you raised in a barn?
no subject
"This is the Horizon. Make it disappear." He replies indifferently in regards to the shattered bottle. Must humans complain about every little thing? "I was curious if any of the liquor here would be worthwhile."
no subject
Oh. Eesh. That's -- one of those faces only a mother could love sort of thing. Well. He tilts his head, squinting. Maybe with more hair... a less jaundice-inspired skin tone... and if he was very, very drunk, which he is. A bag over his head. A lot of arms could certainly -- why does anyone need four arms, really, come to think of it? That's far too many. Maybe three, tops.]
That was what we call a rhetorical question, but. Noted. Born in a cave. Thank you. [As to what a Shokan is, he's fairly sure he doesn't need to ask. A troll with four arms. Simple.]
Ah, look, I appreciate the advice, my many-armed-friend, but not all of us are lazy mages, and I like doing things the hard way. Which includes cleaning up messes, which, by the way, were not there about five seconds ago. Look, I don't mind you running through my stock, but show a little respect.
no subject
So he nods in acknowledgement. You've given him food for thought, Jaskier and Goro can respect that. "I apologize." He replies as he does so. "I will dispose of the mess before I take my leave."
He approaches Jaskier's table, but rather than sit, he summons up his own throne. Even in the Horizon he does not trust human-sized chairs, and he takes his seat. "I have been exploring other domains." He explains, setting the bottles he took down on the table. "Learning. Observing." And then he also slides one of the bottles towards the bard. Why not? He's clearly already been imbibing before Goro got here, it's fine.
"I am Goro."
no subject
Then there's no problem at all.
[It's as simple as that. After Estinien's whole dragon thing, a man wanting four arms is not that strange. (It is, but he's moving past it, he's drunk and morose, and things really matter so far less now.) Jaskier has somehow oozed himself into a seat, and considering the -- Shokan -- is bringing more drink over, he can't be terribly bad, can he? He even laughs at the appearance of the throne. It is nothing that can hurt him, so the domain doesn't even bristle at the intrusion.]
Brilliant idea. I wouldn't trust my chairs to hold up your, ah, massive bulk. [That's a compliment, by the way. My, up close, there's even. More of him. A lot more. There's generally just a lot.]
Ah! A good pastime, actually. I did a fair bit of exploring myself when I first came here, scoping out the other little dream homes. [Jaskier crafts a goblet for his friend, large enough it should fit in his relatively boulder-sized hand. If he chooses to bother with a glass at all. His own is smaller, though just as detailed with fine-cut gems embedded in it.] Goro? Well, it's nice to meet you. You know, I swear I've heard your name before. It sticks in the mind. [But drunk, and sad, and weighed down by his memories, it doesn't feel important now.] Jaskier, baster mard, at your service. [He slurs a bit, but ends the sentence with his lips turning up into a drunk smile. You know, the size of him. Bet he could hold his drink.] Now, we shall have to find a drink that suits you, if the first was too weak. Oh, I don't suppose you've ever heard of tequila, have you?
[Thanks, Julie.]
no subject
"The performer." Goro replies. "Yes. Your name is known to me. Your repertoire is well-known." Plenty of his followers in the movement know and enjoy Jaskier's songs. Even Sterne, an ex-soldier and someone skilled and experienced enough to be considered the closest thing Goro has to a lieutenant, has been caught humming a few bars of some of Jaskier's material. It provides a neat deflection from where exactly Jaskier knows Goro's name from.
He looks down at the goblet in his hand, swishing it about. "The name is familiar." He says. "My father has on occasion employed the services of a bounty killer who works the wastes, and who comes from Earthrealm. I recall him expressing a fondness for such a drink. Human alcohol does little for Shokan, however." He takes another drink of the...vodka, judging by the bottle. "But the taste is not unpleasant."
no subject
[And yet, despite everything that's bloody happened, there's a warmth in that. Well-known. He sure as fuck better be. It's all he's got now. Even after a year. It's -- it's another reminder that no time at all has passed in this world. This sphere.
Ah, fuck it. You know what? He wants to enjoy being known. Remembered. It's the last time he's felt wanted. Appreciated. Properly. Appreciated for what he'd been meant to spend his life doing.
And all that thinking has sort of left him spinning away from what Goro is saying, but he catches on near the end. Bounty hunters or something, very neat. Sort of like Witchers, maybe.] Really? Strong stomach, have you? Then you show me what you drink. You're free to create a choice bit of liquor here, and I am absolutely all about exploring new horizons.
[Hah. Horizons. And faster ways to inebriation.]
no subject
Goro regards him for a moment. "If you wish it." It's probably not a good idea, but at least in the Horizon the results may be unpleasant, but not lethally so. Taking a moment, he conjures a leaden mug, that quickly begins to fill itself with a thick, dark liquid that smells faintly of a recently-extinguished firepit.
"This is a recreation of a liquor known among my people as The Burn. A particularly fine vintage I remember savouring once, dating back to the second millennium of the reign of Shao Kahn." A damn good millennium, too. He pushes it towards Jaskier, but raises a thick finger in warning. "Shokan have much greater tolerances than humans." A pause. "I would recommend a small sip. To begin with."