abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] through open passageways

[ A gryphon. A small one, but it's nonetheless a gryphon. Geralt tilts his head. He's been assured, last time he spotted several being hauled across the desert in a merchant's cart, that they do not grow any larger and are essentially domesticated. As far as he can tell, this is true. No one's yet to be attacked by any stray miniature gryphons; it's also much rounder and with a blunter beak than its full-sized brethren.

Its large eyes lay on him and it coos. He looks between it and Jaskier. ]

We haven't room for him, is what he is. [ He huffs, but his protests are perfunctory at most. He pries open the top of the crate. Mog. Of course. How are they to fit Mog when they're already wanting for space?

Which. He's eyeing the middle of the month, to get them some place less cramped. He's asked Sam to work his charm. Geralt is not beyond using the man where saving a few silvers is concerned.

Despite himself, Geralt reaches out to pat the gryphon on the head. It looks like trouble. He will be fighting this thing out of his fucking hair, he knows it. ] If you chew my leathers, you're going on the street.

What! [Jaskier gasps.] Are you joking? Look at how small he is! Just because you have a habit of bringing stray children home, [They're ignoring how Rinwell was, technically, brought home by Jaskier] and, all right, I brought a necromancer home -- that does not mean we're setting this one out. I just bought him! And he was --

[Expensive. He clears his throat, setting Mog down. After his coo at Geralt, he goes straight back to eating. Jaskier had been very intent on procuring the calmest gryphon he could, if only so Geralt wouldn't get a mind about slaying it.

But who could? Mog had the cutest face he'd ever seen on half a bird. Black as a crow in both his front half and his back, which had a fluff of a tail that slithered through the air like a snake.

He knows Geralt won't release Mog just because of a few stupid leathers.] If you and Ciri are meant to be hunting for weeks on end, and with Rinwell going out with Ciri, I... I did not wish to be alone all the time.

[ He watches, amused and a bit curious all at once. It's not as though he's surprised Jaskier procured an exotic pet. Seems exactly the thing Jaskier would do, in fact.

His expression softens. He sighs. It's a fair point. Geralt stays in Cadens as much as possible, given everything that keeps. Happening. But the nature of his work only allows for so much. They need the coin. And he's one of the few hunters who can travel as far out into the desert as he does—benefits of not needing as much rest and restoration as a human. Contracts are more lucrative in turn, but it means he's not often in the city. ]

Just don't complain when he chews all your herbs.

[ He starts to unpack the sprouts that he brought, lays them out on the table. He's grown used to it—people around him when he's back. Sam's place is full, his place is full, Julie and Nadine are only a walk away. If he's being honest, it feels like home. And there is grief and heartache, but what home is free of those things?

He looks up at Jaskier. ] He'll need bedding.

[Of course it's fair. Jaskier is not complaining, exactly; he needn't be waited on by Witchers and Witcheresses as if he can't look after himself. But he is a traveling man who suddenly can't travel, which means he feels... stuck. Sometimes. And being stuck means he cannot just go out and charm a new audience, no matter what his heart longs for.

(And if he's honest to himself, he does not fully trust being alone. Not now. Not yet.]

He will do no such thing. I haven't purchased him only to let him lay about! I'm training him. He's gotten very good at eating the lizards that have been going after my buds, even.

[Mog makes a croak as he stretches after his meal, hopping on top of the table where Geralt works to stretch out, wings folded.

Geralt could not pry the toy gryphon from his cold, dead hands if he tried. Jaskier is completely enamored with him, and it's likely Mog knows it.]

I thought you were fine with sleeping on the floor. [He smiles at Geralt across the table, plucking up the singularly potted plants to arrange them in a gradient of colored buds.] You're right. Er. Should I build a nest? Perhaps under the table?

[He's a gryphon, after all. Yes, Jaskier asked the questions he could think of, but -- well. One of them is the monster expert.]

[ Has he now. He can admit the creature is not as rowdy as he's been led to expect. It curls up after its feast and lays in a spot of sunlight. Utterly unbothered.

Must be nice.

He leans against the pole that holds up the awning, arms folded as Jaskier bundles the flowers. The warmer climate has led him to purchase lighter linens, but he's otherwise dressed as always, sleeves rolled up and dirt permanently under his nails. ]

They nest on high cliffs. [ He considers. The material is unlikely to be important, so long as it's soft. The location, though. He thinks that may be worth choosing with some care.

Not that he's—look, they're to keep it, then it'll be taken care of. ] Perhaps by a window.

[High cliffs. Ah, right. The merchant mentioned they were mountainous, usually. These domesticated sorts were a bit more used to flatter ground, luckily.

Between organizing his goods, Jaskier gives Mog delicate scratches under his rounded, cat-like ears, feathered at the tips. The end of his tail taps the table, but otherwise the gryphon is perfectly content.

Jaskier grins, tying a ribbon around a bouquet of roses and queen's lace, placed carefully in a jar of water.]

A window, you say? Already planning on where you'll be putting his bed? [He knew it. Geralt has always been a sucker for cute creatures. (Like himself.)] Very well. I can work on procuring a little platform for the window, where the plants usually are. I'm sure he'll enjoy the sun.

[Yes, Jaskier could have asked his housemates how they felt about the new creature. But he's not the sort, honestly. He had been pulled in by a good merchant's sales pitch when his heart had already decided it no longer wanted to be alone.] I do hope Ciri has nothing against gryphons.

[ A grunt comes in reply. If it's unhappy, it'll make a ruckus. That's all. Where he plans to place the bed is a preventative measure. (How is it, that this animal is getting a bed when he hasn't even got one?)

Geralt narrows his eyes at the gryphon. Fuck. Creatures bred from monsters that've torn chunks out of him have no right being so...docile.

He takes a pair of clippers and begins to trim the stems of the pile of peonies with an almost instinctive precision. Solvunn has probably had the most even bouquet stems while he was visiting their display. Geralt is nothing if not exacting in his work, no matter the task he applies himself to. ]

Ciri? You may have to wrestle her for the right to hold it. [ Ciri will be delighted. He knows her. ] And that is a battle you will lose.

[Looking between them, he's quite sure he will never need to be worried for Mog. Surely his Destiny is to be as spoiled as Roach. (He hopes Rinwell won't be afraid of him, but he doesn't think so. The girl is terribly brave.)

Together, the flower stand is coming together rather well. Whether or not it's an instance success, Jaskier's heart is all the lighter being out here, working in the sun, taking careful hand of his own grown plants. his friend by his side. It's something to do, something to give his whole heart to.

He understands why Geralt, too, needs the same. Distraction. Purpose.]

Hah! I hope so. Rinwell, too. [He won't fight her. In fact, he hopes to tell her the good news (well, good to him) when he introduces her to the gryphon.

A sign, in a way, that he means to stay. Jaskier may be crass often, and flamboyant, and taken to fluttering about like a bird, but he will not abandon his responsibilities. Of which Mog is now one.] And, if it's not too much trouble, I mean to ask you to bring him some goodies from your next hunt. A heart or liver or such.

[Mog lifts his head at heart, indicating that Jaskier may have already spoiled him with one. Or three.]

[ Purpose. Yeah. It's all he knows how to do. He told Ciri they can only move forward. That's what he's doing. Moving forward. And if Yennefer allows herself to swept behind because she can't see past what she's lost, past her pain, so be it. He's tired of waiting for her, dragging her by the hand, of looking for what isn't there. He's given her more than enough chances to fucking do something different and she's chosen not to.

He is here, with a damn pet and Jaskier's flower stall and people who need him. It's enough. (It hurts.)

He lays the flowers down. ] Now I'm feeding him, too?

[ He's only teasing. Mm-hmm. Fine. He will save it some rabbit hearts. He will find it a space by the window. ]

I imagine Rinwell could use a friend for Hootle. [ She's become his responsibility, as well. Not exactly his intention, but here they are. She feels safe with them. That's all that matters. ]

Yes, you're helping feed him! Unless you're saving a few hearts for yourself, what do you need them for?

[It's only an argument made for fun, really. He knows exactly well how Geralt will help him. The man's planning on bedding. For his gryphon. A creature Jaskier is very sure Geralt has killed before. (Though he doesn't blame him going after the vicious wild ones. Eating horses and -- and people.)

Jaskier gives Geralt a pat on the arm in thanks. Mog looks between them, then puts his head face-down onto the table to curl up for a nap, legs politely folded underneath.]

Oh, you're right! Though... I wonder if Hootle will recognize him as a bird, or a cat. Er. I'll make sure Mog knows that no one in our household is for eating.

Edited 2022-03-06 23:50 (UTC)

[ He does, in fact, eat them, too. They make for a nice filling or stew. He will also put them aside for the gryphon because he's. Because Jaskier is asking.

He sighs. He has killed gryphons before. The big ones, that are eating cattle and villagers. This one is sleepy and small and looks liable to be bullied by crows. Is it even capable of trying to eat anyone in the household? He isn't even sure he believes Jaskier when he says it's been killing lizards. Look at it. Not an ounce of viciousness.

When he thinks Jaskier is not looking, Geralt slips a finger between the gryphon's paws and lets it hold onto it. It's got soft dark brown pads. Oh. ]

He'll recognize him as a nuisance, I'm sure. [ Hootle is too damn smart for his own good. Geralt is fairly certain that owl has a form of sentience. ]

Edited 2022-03-07 01:22 (UTC)

[He knows that sigh. It's fond. It's definitely fond! (It's fond, isn't it? No matter his crisis, he doesn't want to bring trouble to their household. Really. But he was reassured the gryphon was quite domesticated, and came from a respectable enough line even if he was a bit of a mutt, and had no tendency to chew or bite, which was important.)

Jaskier ducks behind the table to push back a few pots of extra soil -- incase there are any plant accidents, especially with Mog around -- and pops back up just in time to see.

There is not a chance he would miss it. A gryphon paw curled around a Witcher's finger.

Geralt would not let anything happen to this creature. He already knows.]

As much as he recognizes you as one. [He flicks the Witcher's arm.] That was the last of the crates, wasn't it? I think... gods. I might be close to really opening.

[His first shop. He's worked on his own since he was quite young, but this -- hah. What would his parents think of him becoming a merchant?]

Edited 2022-03-07 04:07 (UTC)

[ (It's fond.)

He withdraws his hand before Jaskier can see. He's too late, but Geralt does not know this and need not know. He rests his arm atop the empty crate once all the flowers are trimmed and put aside for Jaskier to do as he will with them. Geralt hasn't any idea. He knows fuck all about making flower crowns or. Bundles. ]

Mmh. [ Yeah. The last of them. For now. He imagines there will be more to carry to and fro as Jaskier continues to sell his wares, but he's already informed Jaskier that there's a batch of orphans who may be willing to lend a hand for a bit of coin or a free meal. ] I'll send Gideon your way. Last time I gave her a flower, she looked like I showed her a unicorn.

[ An extraordinarily fragile unicorn. It's something, speaking to someone who finds flowers the strangest thing in the world. He isn't even sure what to think about it; the concept of having never seen one in your entire life feels...hard to imagine. ]

[Oh, it's very likely they're not even near done. Jaskier is the sort who can easily find a thousand more things to do. He wants it to be perfect, knowing it won't be. He may be a master of his craft, but he's still new to... this.

Of course, he's a natural.]

Gideon! You know, I think she mentioned that to me. Did she tell you they didn't even have horses? They just have... skeletal monstrosities.

[No offense, Gideon, Harrow, but he prefers his beasts have skin. Or at least most of their skin. Dating a necromancer has altered his thoughts on this somewhat.] I should love to see her. In fact, I feel if you're doing your utmost duty to your best friend, you would tell everyone you know to come here. Specifically. At the very least to see Mog. He deserves love and admiration.

[Like someone else they all know.]

[ She had, in fact. She'd told him most of her life story, strangely detached, and Geralt had granted what was probably too detached of a response in return.

He looks up at the flowers and Jaskier's little awning and the fluffy gryphon yawning in the sun. It is a strange serenity. It feels incongruous given all that's happened, and yet. With Jaskier, he can't imagine it any other way.

His expression softens for a second. Then he huffs. ] Jaskier. There isn't a damn soul left to tell. Even the people across the continent know you opened a flower stall.

[ He saw Jaskier advertise his wares throughout the summit. In truth, he thinks if anyone could flit from territory to territory unhindered, perhaps Jaskier has a chance. Who would stop a bard with an armful of daisies? ]

[Jaskier laughs, throwing him a grin.]

Ah, so you acknowledge all the work I've done across this continent. Why, thank you, Geralt. And yet I better see your hands dragging our friends here, or I shall be very upset. I've even been told that gryphons will sometimes reflect the emotions of their owners. Now, do you really want a gryphon to be angry with you?

[Said gryphon has stretched out alone the entire length of the table so his head lays in the sun, ears flicking against tiny flies in the air, and his tail has landed on top of a potted cactus, unconcerned about the spines.

Clearly a beast capable of great anger.]

The more business I get, the sooner we can settle into a larger place. I do mean to do so, if we're to stay. And Rinwell deserves a bit better than a couch shoved in the corner.

Edited 2022-03-09 06:00 (UTC)

[ Mm-hm. He looks down at the gryphon, ears twitching lazily. Plenty of strange shit in this world, but a domesticated miniature predator is the strangest. Then again. There've always been cats.

At least the gryphon doesn't hiss at him and flee. ]

I'm trembling.

[ He watches Jaskier for a moment. The buzz of the market square hums in the background. He isn't sure how he feels. Something...weighted, in his chest, when Jaskier says settle in. He knows what he decided. He knows what they all agreed. But even when he'd never realized his place could be anywhere except on the Continent, he hadn't settled. Settling was for those who were not Witchers. Now he has. All this. More to lose, but more that he's gained, too.

He lifts the crate off the table and pushes it underneath to join the rest of the empty ones. ] I'm working on it. [ Comfort means little to him, but he doesn't want Rinwell and Ciri and Jaskier crammed into a narrow box of a room, either. Their lodgings were the best they could do when they first came to Cadens—pockets empty except for the rings and some coin Jaskier had stolen off a few frozen guards. It's past that now. Besides, Sam's space isn't exactly empty anymore for him to linger at when it's too crowded.

He straightens up. Speaking of, he does need to look in on Sam. And that...board. ] Try not to feed all your newly earned coin into spoiling your new friend.

Edited 2022-03-11 19:08 (UTC)

[ CLOSED ] through open passageways

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject