[ OPEN/SOME CLOSED ] if I had to do it over, I'd do it all again

[cointosser]

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.]

Comments

[cointosser]

[Jaskier's heart skips a little beat. Sometimes overt appreciation is something he needs. Simple words instead of actions, even if both, of course, have their merits. As if in response, the roses all bloom a bit more brightly.]

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?

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard's going to pointedly not comment on the roses, although he sees them.

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.]

[cointosser]

[He would've so easily poked a bit of fun at Alucard for saying so, but now he understands it. That feeling, like slipping off a ledge, like falling. Grasping for something to hang onto, even if the pursuit is as small as fixing up a cemetery no one visits.

(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.

[cryptsleeper]

I feel as if a city is easier in that regards. Nature is isolated in little spots, meaning that something that otherwise works against the natural environment is easier to atttend to - like you've done. But beyond? [Alucard pauses to imagine the idea, but shakes his head no.] Probably best not to, unless you want to make an oasis or two. [The words leave Alucard's mouth and--

--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.

[cointosser]

[Fair point. Jaskier's Continent is, after all, mostly forest. He avoids the deserts for obvious reasons, and honestly, he wouldn't have chosen Cadens first for his destination if they'd had much choice. There was a choice, technically, but all he'd wanted to do was get Geralt out of Thorne as fast as possible.]

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.

[cryptsleeper]

It'd be a worthy experiment, at least.

[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.]

[cointosser]

[Some part of him doesn't believe it's that easy -- that Alucard will really turn on a whim. But he does. It's that effortless for him, and like he'd remembered, nothing like Nadine's transformation.

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.]