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
I like to think you mean so literally.
[If anyone howls at the moon, it's likely to be Alucard. He puffs up a little, watching Alucard's eyes move across his work. While Jaskier before would have done it all for the sole purpose of being about as colorful and noticeable as possible, his tastes have clearly become a little more... reserved. More of the plants are dedicated to being helpful rather than pretty, either providing grip to the paths, holding the tombstones together, or offering some thorny protection around Alucard's cactus (which he is pleased to see still stands effortlessly.)]
Oh. You noticed. Thank you. [He's felt stronger than he has in months, even though so much magic has drained him. Funny thing, that. Now he feels the chaos making its equivalent exchange for its use.] You worked with what you could. It felt as if they should have the best efforts to preserve their memorials.
[If Jaskier cannot work to save the living in Abraxas, at least he can start with aiding the dead.]
no subject
He doesn't comment on the hat (is that a new one?!) But to the work at hand, and it is interesting to see the shift at hand. There is still color, but the shift has moved to the world of the practical. Even his cactus now has extra thorns which is admittedly over kill, but also does have a nice aesthetic of it's own.]
It takes one unsubtle person to recognize another. [His grin is small and sly, because well, pot and kettle. The dhampir walks closed towards one of the grave markers, crouching down to see how the plants interface with the rock in better detail.]
You mean in case I didn't mix the mortar correctly? [The question is light. Alucard hums in soft approval, tracing the reinforcement plants carefully with his forefinger.] This is wonderful, and innovative. Thank you.
no subject
Jaskier gapes at him in mock outrage.] What? Alucard, I cannot believe you're calling me unsubtle.
[Even wearing an unbuttoned chemise, the ring of bone hanging from his neck atop curls of chest hair, his long hair tied back into what may constitute something like a ponytail, but is more accurately a rat tail -- even now, he is not exactly subtle.
Mostly because he has a few flowers tucked into the hat already, which shift even without a breeze.]
Has anyone told you you're hilarious? I imagine not. [The plants don't hesitate from Alucard's touch. Much like his birds -- and the swallow he'd created a week ago is still here, fluttering about -- they recognize Alucard as a dear friend.
His chest warms. He, too, kneels next to Alucard, reaching for the vines. They sprout a few more blooms, framing the name on the stone.] You needn't thank me at all. It's enough to have something to focus on.
no subject
[Alucard knows the full of his dramatics are yet to be observed by the bard but...becoming so depressed that one lives in a graveyard is probably as good an example as any that he can think of.]
Your imagination is correct. But when you're not used to being around others, there's no reason for such commentary.
[It is impossible not to see how the plants shift with his touch. That is a very magical little thing, perhaps moreso than the magic that brought them to this graveyard in the first place. He runs his fingers besides one of the vines. A hello, and a little appreciation for the blooms that now frame the deceased's memory.]
It's still something worth saying out loud. [It isn't a charitable you need to hear it moment.] As long as it has helped. Has anything else come into sharper focus while you've been working?
no subject
Which he doesn't do. so.
Jaskier rubs his fingers together, lifting back to his feet. Is it worth it? Well. It is to him. He does want to hear it. He doesn't need to, he thinks, but he'd. Like to. Even if it's such a small thing, it makes a difference to one person.
It's enough for now. Enough to focus on.]
It has. Besides, after that Eifstide disaster, this place was in sore need of such attentions. [And his magic was in need of use. He couldn't, after all, sacrifice the work Yennefer had pumped into him (ah, literaly) because he was feeling sorry for himself.]
Some things. The things that are truly lingering with me. The things that matter more than others. [The healing, he thinks, he might need to get past... memories. The memories that have him hesitating to even light a candle. To twitching when he's alone in the dark. Even how a sight of the Singularity in the Horizon stirs his heart darkly.]
I know I must keep doing something, no matter how small it is. Or I will eventually sink into nothing. As clear a lesson it is... I needed the time to relearn it.
no subject
He'll go to the bath house at some point to divest himself of sand. For now, he'll wiggle his arms every so often to shake grains loose, knowing full well that it is a losing battle. Really, the sand is one of the few downsides of the desert.]
And the work will need to be maintained.
[More Jaskier's than his own. Gardens can fall into disarray faster than stone.
The cactus comes into view eventually. Alucard's feet are moving at a leisurely pace, and he has no real desire to rush ahead at the moment
You figured it out in a week. [Alucard's dry tone is a terrible attempt at humour.] Took me over a month.
[His bag is dropped beside the cactus, and Alucard settles himself down on the ground. It is good, comfy ground.] You're always welcome here, you know that.
no subject
[For now. Alucard is much more optimistic about the point he's reached over himself. He's learned the lesson, and now comes... putting effort into living it. Even now, after his one performance, he has yet to pick the lute up again.
One thing at a time.]
Worry not, I'm nowhere so skilled. I'm still working on it.
[Jaskier walks beside him, shifting the bag at his side a bit harder. He's gathered a few things he needs in the effort: a hand shovel, some sort of clawed thing for digging up roots, and twine he uses to tie bundles of herbs for home up. In some way, he thinks he's settled into the work easier because of what he did in the vineyard. Raising them up by hand, watering and coaxing the sunlight to the levels he needed. Harvesting grapes, stamping them out. Bottling.
Jaskier gives the old cactus a pat. It doesn't move, but it doesn't prod at him with needles miraculously, either. Perhaps a thanks for putting what magic he had into keeping it alive during the Dimming. With a little bow to the cactus, he takes a seat on the bench. Unfortunately, he's not on a "sitting on the dirt" sort of level of ease with the earth yet. He stretches his legs out, knees popping.]
I know now. You were a tough nut to crack, you know. [He smiles at him. Well. A tough nut to crack who needed just a bit of wine in him to crack at all.] I'm glad for it, you know. Your company has always been some of the best.
no subject
But no matter. The garden flourishes, Jaskier is here, and the cactus seems to stand just a little straighter for the bard's appearance. Alcuard's meant to ask if Jaskier has seen any of the cacti that bloom at night out in the desert, but that's a discussion for another day. For now, there is simply this. Sitting and being.]
And at the risk of sounding overly saccharine, your company has been the most constant thing in my life since I arrived here. [Saccharine and the truth are not mutually exclusive. The dhampir lets out a short huff.] It is something I am grateful for.
no subject
No, no. I -- I love saccharine.
[Constant. Constant is good. Jaskier has had his own constant companies in his life, and they've led him on the path he's on now. Sure enough, those new memories have also showed him how much it can break you to lose a constant.
It's good to know he can provide it as well. Though. Funny. He seems to provide it to those who will live far longer than he. (He's never even thought much about it until now.)] I intend to keep providing it, of course.
[It is one more thing to hang onto. To recall that his presence, or lack thereof, does not affect himself alone. It's good. You know, for a depressed dhamphir, Alucard is rather good at this comfort business.] I fear soon we're going to need to find something new to work on. I don't suppose reforesting an entire desert is a fathomable pursuit, is it?
no subject
Nice to know that sometimes, he does say the correct thing.
Alucard leans back, his shoulders coming to rest at the very edge of the bench. It is support enough, and the grass is soft beneath his feet. He couldn't ask for much more at this point. This place is as much Jaskier's as it is his now. Collaboration without the name, and without any real planning. Riffing and--
--well. There's a thought.]
The thought has occurred to me as well, and my skin crawls every time it enters my head. [Being without this sort of work is an actual terror at the moment.] It'd cause too much chaos to the living wild life. Can't say I would suggest it.
But maybe finding something else collaborative would help. Or reinvigorate. [The dhampir won't spell it out. Jaskier'll have to come to that conclusion on his own.]
no subject
(It would be nice if the people of Cadens would now.)
Ugh. This level of empathy with the dhamphir's plight is not exactly what he ordered, but it's here to stay either way.] Ah, that's a point. I should probably be putting a bit more thought into how this affects, er. Nature.
[Considering he was never meant to have this sort of power. If he was, would the chaos not have found its way to him long ago? As much as he prefers forests to sticky, burning sand, it could disrupt all those strange dune birds. And the lizards. Last time he went out there, he found some rather cute lizards.
He draws his boot across the grass, a swirl that lays flattened before the grass rights itself again.]
Collaborative... [Certainly. He can't spend the rest of his time alone. For one, it's horribly depressing. For two, he's wasting his talents. There's... so much more he could be doing. For this place. For Cadens. If he cannot help the elves any longer, then surely there's others?] While I have enjoyed getting my hands dirty, I would prefer something less. Solitary. And less quiet.
no subject
--oh! That's another idea. But he won't harp on it or shove the bard's nose in it to make the concept stick.]
I can't help with less quiet. [An honest assessment of himself. Given the chance, Alucard is always going to prefer silence.] The most I do is go out into the desert and howl at the moon when everything feels just that little bit too much. [Screaming, just in a more interesting way.] I could demonstrate, if you'd like.
no subject
I may build up to an oasis. If I ever become so proficient.
[That sounded a bit impossible, actually, even for him. But it was an idea to set aside, should he be desperate for something to try.
However, building a desert oasis did not do much for the solitude aspect.
A smile quirks his lips.] I may try howling soon enough. [He looks down at him with amusement. Is that a joke? A real offering?] You know what? Yes. I would like. Give me a good howl.
no subject
[But an oasis implies a new form of loneliness and that goes against the spirit of what they're both realizing is against their best interest.
Alucard never thought he'd be reliant on anyone for company again, but here he is. Jaskier's the primary source, and it was probably better they never really interacted in the early days of being in Thorne. Alucard knows he'd be an absolute shit had that happened.
Howling though. There's a nod, and the transformation happens again in one single, fluid motion. Nose becomes snout, long flowing hair becomes white fluff, and there's absolutely someone else who need to make a joke about how the bard keeps befriending white wolves.
As a matter of respect, the wolf moves away. This is about to become loud. Alucard throws his head back and:]
awwOOOO000000000000000000
[He only goes for a minute. Minute and a half. Enough to be heard, but not enough to draw too much attention to the fact that the wolf is awake in the cemetery.
Satisfied, he trots right back over and plonks his head on the bench beside Jaskier. Pets allowed but only from Jaskier.]
no subject
Perhaps hers would be so smooth one day. He hopes so, for her sake.
Jaskier puts his hands over his ears, just in case, once he notices Alucard giving him some space. It turns out to be a rather good idea, because the howl is loud, and it echoes against the tombstones, and it goes on rather long.
It's not exactly music. But it still brings a grin to his face, though hardly what he feels when the great white wolf comes up to him and all but plops his head beside him.
Is he really...?
Jaskier doesn't ask. He puts his hands between Alucard's ears and scratches, fur slightly rough, slightly soft. Again, he misses his wolf in the Horizon. How he had been completely dependable. There whenever Jaskier needed him.
To be fair, his friends are rather the same way.] Thank you, my friend.
[Alucard is sno different.]