abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] through open passageways

[ Geralt decides not to weigh in on his experiences with childhood punishments or anything about one's childhood as a whole. Instead, his eyebrows lift further up.

Actually—no, he did expect Jaskier to take the offer, whether it was a joke or not. It's no matter to him; hardly the first time he's thrown Jaskier over his shoulder. Which he does not do this time. He's fairly certain if he treks up these stairs with Jaskier hanging off his shoulder like a sack of cabbages, it will only result in Jaskier losing blood in his extremities.

He scoops Jaskier up with a sigh. He is growing weary of this whole thing, but they've made it this far. ] Not sure you're in a position to make demands.

[ Tease him mercilessly, Thancred. What can Jaskier do? Other than write scathing songs dedicated to Thancred's name. Geralt takes no responsibility if this happens. ]

We should've invited Himeka. [ She'd have liked to witness this, he thinks. Also, she'd have food. ]

[ Geralt scoops Jaskier up into his arms as if he weighs nothing, which he most certainly does not, but it all simply adds to the intrigue of how the man's capable of such things. The two of them are an unlikely sort of pair, aren't they? Not that it surprises Thancred much — many would say the same of him and Urianger, he's sure.

That leaves him with Moglad as a sort of companion, who flutters near him as he endeavors to follow after Geralt at a decent pace. The fact that Geralt's still climbing faster than him, even while carrying someone, is almost insulting. Thancred's reaching a point where he's too tired to care; he just wants to reach the top. ]

We should have invited her. Worry not, I'll make certain to tell her all about it.

[ If she knows Geralt, she likely knows Jaskier too, and will derive some amusement from all this.

As Thancred continues to climb, his bootsteps become heavier, and he finds himself reaching out for the railing more often than he'd like. The other two are ahead of him, though, so it's fine. They likely won't notice. (He hopes.) ]

She has a way of lightening up even the darkest of moments. I'm sure you've noticed.

[ She's not called the Warrior of Light for nothing. ]

[Jaskier wants it on record that Geralt, even after living in remorse of abandoning his best friend on the entire Continent, is still a horrible man. Jaskier gives a snort at the mention of Himeka, contemplating if Geralt would drop him if he swung his legs. For fun.

Who is he kidding? He hardly has the enrgy for it. He's enjoying the ride, as bumpy and uncomfortable as it is. He's sure to have bruises across his back by the end of this.]

Oh, she'll never let me hear the end of it, I'm sure.

[Of course he knows her! They have a very special bond, he and the dragon. And it all started with cheese, as some of the best bonds do. He stilly highly prizes the brooch he's made of her scale, tucked in a safe display in his domain.]

I mean, you aren't wrong, but it is such a poetic thing to say about a dragon who swallows cheese wheels whole. [Wait, this means Thancred knows her, too! Well, he's not exactly surprised -- he imagine Himeka finds it rather easy to make friends. She has that sort of personality.] I wasn't aware you were a friend of hers.

[If Jaskier is to be teased mercilessly -- or the potential lay there in Thancred's favor -- he doesn't see why he can't do the same.] You know, I didn't imagine marriage to a dragon like her would be so easy, but we're both so busy, we hardly see each other. Through the Horizon, of course.

[Is it a joke? Well. Sort of. He's still pretty sure she swindled him into marriage. Luckily, she has yet to use it against him. Or even question his, ah. Dalliances.]

[ Geralt would not drop him per se, but he is capable of simulating the feeling of an extremely realistic drop. He rolls his eyes to the dull stone ceiling. It is flat, smooth, strangely manmade in appearance. Not even remotely interesting as natural stone.

Marriage to a what? He squints down at Jaskier with a look that says he's contemplating whether to take this seriously or if Jaskier is simply talking shit. Both are possible.

His head hurts. He can hear Thancred lagging behind. In the interests of also conserving his strength—it is not infinite and now he's got an additional load of one (1) full-grown bard—he slows down a hint, as well. ]

She isn't a dragon. [ The difference has been explained to him. It makes sense. Himeka doesn't smell like a dragon nor hum with the aura of one. As far as he can tell, she belongs to a bipedal species that happens to have reptilian-like features. ] Shouldn't you know that before you married her?

[ Geralt did not pass on to Jaskier that Thancred is a friend of Himeka's from home? He likely shouldn't be surprised, as Geralt seems to be a man of few words. This does seem like significant information that should have been shared, but they can address it now.

She is not a dragon, and he would be happy to explain as much, but 1) Geralt beats him to it, and 2) there is now talk of marriage. More than that, Geralt appears to be taking more issue with Jaskier calling Himeka a dragon than with the whole marriage bit. Surely she would have told Thancred if she'd met someone, if they'd eternally bonded, and this must all be some joke at his expense.

Either way, this development has invigorated him with enough energy that he is able to pick up his pace and catch up to the pair in order to have a proper conversation about it. ]

You're joking, are you not? If Himeka had met someone here and become that serious with them, I am quite certain she would have mentioned it to me when I arrived.

[ While he appears alarmed, his confusion is somewhat blunted by his exhaustion. Still, he does need an answer, and to also add to Geralt's statement. ] And no, she is not a dragon. Her race is called the Au Ra. [ Did she not explain any of this? Well, it is Himeka. ]

[Jaskier huffs, waving away both of them trying to tell him something that is, obviously, completely untrue.] Joking! Hardly. She's the one who tricked me into it. And I don't know what you're both talking about, she's quite obviously a dragon. She turned into one and ate all my grapes. I don't mean to correct you, but she has a tail. And horns. And hangs out with bloody dragons.

[Is Jaskier suggesting he knows her better than his two compatriots?

Yes. Absolutely. It isn't his problem that Himeka is toying with them about this nonsense.] Or, at least, some sort of dragon-woman hybrid. I didn't ask her about it. I felt it was a sensitive topic, whether the inquiry would bother her or not.

[It would appear either the argument is fueling him with energy again, or simply having Geralt do all the effort of walking.]

Villentretenmerth did not have a tail in his human form nor horns for ears.

[ He glances over his shoulder at Thancred with a look that suggests further argument will be more futile than climbing these stairs. Some hills are not for them to perish upon. Besides, he assumes if Himeka didn't want to be mistaken as a dragon, she'd have corrected Jaskier. Unless Himeka also does not realize. Which is possible. He likes Himeka, but he also watched her use a variety of magic to open a beer bottle she didn't understand and ultimately burn her mouth on it, so certain aspects of her remain.

Questionable.

Instead, Geralt has a better line of thought to pursue. He isn't serious, but it's difficult to tell given his permanent deadpan. ] How come I wasn't invited to the wedding?

[ Tricked into it? In that case, Thancred can only assume that it is not a proper marriage and that Himeka had simply been having some fun. He will ask her about it after the fact, if only because he's curious. It does sound like an entertaining story if nothing else. ]

Wait. She turned into—

[ Around that point is when Thancred catches Geralt's look, a clear warning that there will be little progress made if he tries to argue with Jaskier further. Himeka had likely decided to simply let Jaskier believe what he wanted as well, as it's not like she would take any umbrage with being related to dragons, given her fondness for them.

The conversation has shifted to a different point of contention, based on Geralt's question. Thancred's curious to see how it plays out, and yet he also can't help but notice... ]

Oh, thank the gods. We're almost to the top. [ The final landing waits a flight of stairs above them, along with a door that will lead them to some final destination. He doubts it will prove to have been worth all the effort, but the simple fact that their suffering is over will have to be enough of a reward. ]

Edited 2022-03-31 22:01 (UTC)

As far as I know. Of course, you didn't let me see him as a fucking dragon.

[There's only a little heat in the words; perhaps most would be wise to not bring up such old, dead arguments in front of strangers, but -- at this point, it's more teasing than anything, especially when it matters so little.

Damn. He hasn't thought about it. Where has Borch Three Jackdaws gone now? Away from humanity, he suspects. As far as he can go.

Jaskier wiggles his legs, stretching them out as much as he can in Geralt's arms. He's starting to stiffen up after being carried so long.] Anyway, yes, she turned into this little -- I thought it was a snake, honestly, but she had legs. Very cute. And I did not invite you because there was no wedding -- which is not to say I would have invited you if there was, I'm only saying there wasn't. It was very abrupt, a few words exchanged, she gave me a scale. Very proper.

[The more he talks about it the less sure he is that that happened, though. As if the Horizon had him dream it up. Is Himeka going around telling people they're married? He should've asked.

He looks up above them with Thancred's realization, rolling his shoulder as much as he's able.]

Fuck. Finally. Shall we start taking bets on what we'll find? I'll put down a bag of coins and a honey cake it's absolutely nothing at all.

Edited 2022-04-02 18:51 (UTC)

[ Uh-huh. He does not point out that he didn't prevent Jaskier from doing anything. Jaskier was simply asleep. Which was for the best; men were roasted, a lot. Happened.

He looks up while Jaskier is mid-explanation regarding the wedding. The not-wedding, apparently, because he's fairly certain Himeka giving Jaskier a scale is not a declaration of marriage, but what the fuck does he know? He's been climbing for ten minutes, carrying Jaskier for half that time, and he's about done.

He sets Jaskier down with a grunt as they reach the very top. Moglad twirls above them.

Geralt steps aside for Thancred to join them. He indicates the door waiting. ] Want the honours?

[ What Thancred is quickly learning is that Jaskier seems to make up for all the words that Geralt chooses not to speak. They are more or less opposites in that way, but the best of friends do often mirror each other like this, so it makes sense to him.

Himeka is definitely not capable of turning into a little snake with legs in most cases, so Thancred can only assume this supposed marriage happened in the Horizon. That's yet another point against its legitimacy.

As Jaskier's set down, Thancred steps up to him, giving him a quick once-over before announcing, ] Well, simply know that if you break her heart, there will be consequences. [ He follows it up with a smile. Is he serious or joking? It's a bit difficult to say.

Geralt's granting him the honor of opening the door to see what their prize is for their hard work. ] That's not a bet I'm willing to take. [ With that, he steps up to the open the door, which leads them into...

Some sort of wide open room. Thancred steps in, and while there is plenty of space and some consoles that look like they might do something, there isn't much more to it. It almost looks like it's a place where people would spar or train.

He turns back to the other two as they follow him in. ] As we feared, this is startlingly underwhelming.

[Jaskier gives a huff as he's set down, straightening his coat and his shirt (which is precisely flat and unwrinkled, as it always is in the Horizon), giving Moglad a look before he raises his hand and lets the moogle high-five him.]

I told you he would. [Is all he says, ominously, before turning to Thancred with a laugh.]

Oh, that's cute. Well, I'll have you know I am not a heartbreaker. IF anything, I am the heartbreak-ee.

[It's a point he makes rather firmly, stepping back with Geralt. Usually he would take the honor himself, but he's started gossiping with Moglad already, where he can heard asking: Wait, you remember, don't you? It was definitely a marriage. Right? I'm not caught up on dragon rituals -- with Moglad's response, and a soft pat on his head with a paw, of Of course, Master Jaskier as if he didn't quite believe Jaskier himself.

Everyone is against him.

He smacks Moglad's paw away (gently, of course) and turns to follow Thancred into the room, where he ends up looking around, his hands on his hips.]

A most disappointing denouement. [He pauses.] You know, I'm filled with the urge to destroy some of these. Completely unrelated to all of the stairs we just went up, of course.

[And even as he says it, Moglad's body is enclosed in dark, pointed armor, his greatsword drawn seemingly out of thin air as he readies himself.] Is that rude? That's probably rude.

[ Told you he would. Geralt's eyes narrow between Jaskier and the moogle. Wait—

Oh, fuck it. He leans against the wall, head tipped back. Listens to Moglad and Jaskier whisper about the sham marriage to Himeka. When Thancred and Jaskier enter, Geralt doesn't even bother to follow, just turns his head to look into what is, as they have both declared, an utter fucking disappointment. Not that he expected anything else. Actually, nothing's crawled out to bite them in half, so as far as entrances to unknown locations go, this may be dull but at least no one's had a chunk taken out of them for their troubles.

He reaches out and confiscates Moglad's sword before the moogle can enact destruction upon the domain. ]

I'd rather not incite personal vendettas where unneeded. [ Is there a book? Perhaps they can inscribe their name and a note. Stairs evenly paced. Shit view at the top. ] Can we go?

[ Although going means...returning down the stairs they only just went up. Fuck. Has this place got another route? Is it truly just fucking stairs? ]

[ It's a bit odd that Jaskier so proudly claims that he's usually the one to have his heart broken. Thancred chooses to not speak to how many hearts he may or may not have broken in the past, well aware of his misdeeds — even if they had usually been carried out for a good cause. It's all water under the bridge by now, in any case.

It's simple enough for Thancred to more or less tune out Jaskier's chatter with the moogle while he explores the rather uninteresting room that they've found. While there is a thin hope that there will be something of use to uncover here, that is quickly dashed. It's possible the equipment here will do something, but he's not certain any of them care enough to try right now. He's still recovering from that climb himself, and the idea of going all the way back down isn't thrilling him.

What does catch his attention is when Moglad suddenly manifests armor and a sword that's almost as large as his body. It's not the first time that Thancred's seen moogles attempt to fight, but he's gaping at this all the same. It's absurd. ] Is he a dark knight? [ Thankfully, Geralt nips any potential property damage in the bud. Thancred looks to him and manages not to smile at the image of a very stern man holding a very small greatsword. It looks more like an ornate steak knife in his hand. ] Yes, I'm fine to leave this awful place, but hold on...

[ Having wandered to the other side of the large room, opposite from the door that they used to enter from the stairwell, Thancred sees another set of metal double doors, with a button next to them. ] Is this a lift? [ He feels his stomach drop. Could they have used this the entire time? Why in gods' name did they take the stairs, then?

With a long sigh, he pushes the button and then immediately hears the response of machinery far below humming into life. He drags a hand down his face as he waits for their ride out of here to arrive. ]

[Quit bullying me, Master Geralt! Moglad cries, and with a flutter attempts to get his sword back, but stops rather soon once he remembers he's supposed to respect the Witcher who tutored him. (Another quality picked up from Jaskier.)

Jaskier looks over from where he's contemplating kicking some sort of metal box.] Oh, is that what you call it? I suppose the armor is rather dark and foreboding. Personally, I think he just wanted to look intimidating.

[Jaskier!! Moglad wiggles with embarrassment through the air, fluttering away once he's stolen his greatsword back. It returns to its place on his back, no longer raised for wanton destruction, as Jaskier's whims have moved on.

He wanders over by Thancred's side while Moglad rests on top of a screen and sulks.] A lift? This thing? [Jaskier jumps back when the doors ring, blinking as they come apart by themselves.] That's... a lift? It looks like a cage.

[ He's a what? Geralt looks over at the moogle, letting him take his sword back. Not once has it occurred to him Moglad is becoming a knight. He merely put a sword in his hand and showed him a sign or two. ]

He's had better training than a knight.

[ Just saying. Most knights could only wish they learned to swing a sword from another Witcher. Is Geralt effectively suggesting he was the one who taught the moogle? Yes. No, he will not explain himself further. Instead, he peers at Thancred's discovery. Geralt's expression is wary.

He leans into the lift without stepping inside and pushes a button. It lights up. Hm. Were they in the real world, he'd be less keen. They aren't. ]

Can't die in the Horizon. [ He thinks. Fairly certain. He's not ever tested it personally, but it's what he's heard and it makes sense. They don't physically exist on this plane. ]

[ Geralt does seem to be implying that he's been training this imaginary moogle in how to use a sword, which is perhaps too much for Thancred to try and understand in the given moment. Especially when there is a lift here and the three of them simply consigned themselves to the stairs. ]

Depends on the knight, wouldn't you say? And yes, the idea is generally to be intimidating.

[ There's much more he could say on the topic of dark knights, but that can wait for another time. The lift has arrived and it seems both Geralt and Jaskier are unfamiliar, given how they eye it with such wariness. As if it's going to swallow them whole if they step inside.

He scoffs and shakes his head, moving into the lift with little hesitation before he spins back to face them. ] You're not going to die. Don't be so dramatic. Come now, you'll see. It's quite the brilliant invention and it's bound to make you hate those stairs even more than you already do.

No, no, I agree. I'd trust a Witcher over a good knight any day. When's the last time you saw a knight take down a wyvern? [If Thancred needs confirmation. Sometimes a Witcher teaches the manifestation of a man's heart how to fight. Nothing strange about it.

Jaskier sticks his head in the lift as Moglad poses, as if very proud of his title of dark knight witcher-trainee, feeling a very deep sense of foreboding about this, somehow. A metal box that... moves? Up? Down? Does the term lift not denote that it only continues upward? Is there anything above them?

The bard scoffs right back at him.] I'm not being dramatic! Have either of you even died here? Are you quite sure it bears no importance to, you know, our unconscious bodies in waking life? I'd rather not wake up as some sort of braindead body, handsome or no, thank you.

[He looks back at Geralt, though, and steps in. At least he'll die in handsome company.] Do know if I die, I shall be haunting both of you. Or at least Geralt. I'm not sure how well-equipped you are to survive any sort of falling or crushing, my friend.

[He pats Thancred's shoulder as if he completely understands. Being human is sometimes a burden.]

[ He has to wonder if the lift is only up here or if it were downstairs, as well. He feels as though at least one of them would've noticed a metal box with some buttons upon it. Admittedly, neither he nor Jaskier would have thought to look for one, which means the responsibility falls squarely upon Thancred's shoulders.

He looks at Moglad, who grips his sword protectively but with a sort of pride, as well. His eyes return to Thancred. There is an implication in his gaze that he has never been called dramatic once in his life (he has, multiple times) and does not wish to hear it again.

He steps into the box alongside Jaskier, who pats Thancred as though he were already planning out his eulogy in his head. ] I suggest you don't, unless you want me to burn your corpse.

[ Not that anyone's dying. Probably. Today, at any rate.

They should just go. He pushes the button that indicates it is meant to close the doors. ]

[ When is the last time that he saw a knight take down a wyvern? Well, plenty of the Temple Knights in Ishgard could claim to have done such things, but he isn't going to get into a pointless back-and-forth on this either. He still isn't entirely clear on what a Witcher is, save that Geralt is one, but that may need to wait for another day.

Jaskier seems quite concerned about the possibility of dying on this lift, and yet he steps inside all the same. Much of his general theatrics do seem to be for show more than anything else, but Thancred can respect that. ]

I am quite confident you will not die. Nor do I particularly wish to test the theory of whether such a thing is even possible in the Horizon.

[ Being a normal human can be a burden, but Thancred's survived worse in the past. Possession, forbidden teleportation spells, aetheric sickness...

Once Geralt closes the doors on them, Thancred steps up to press in the button that says "L" with a star next to it. ] For "Lobby." [ He glances to his three compatriots and gives a small, sad shake of his head. ] If we'd explored on the ground level a bit more, we likely would have found this.

[ The lift comes to life again and begins to move, smoothly taking them all the way back down in a matter of seconds, compared to however much time and energy that climb had cost them. Thancred lets out a long sigh and rubs the bridge of his nose as the lift continues its brisk descent. ]

Burn my -- Geralt, how dare you. You had better never burn my -- why can't you have confidence in our survival, like Thancred over here?

[Jaskier gives him a clap on the shoulder in thanks as Moglad enters last, hovering in the corner. Honestly, it is rather nice to have someone about who talks about the probability of survival, not death, like some persons who shall not be named. (Geralt.)

The whole box sort of rocks around them, jerking once Thancred pushes a button. Jaskier clings to the bar in the back, but honestly, his fears have been rather soothed over. Mostly. It's not the worst company to fake-die with, anyway. Though Thancred is a rather mysterious figure, Jaskier admires him for 1) being stupid enough to come with them up all those bloody stairs and 2) hardly complaining about it.

Jaskier does that plenty for the three of them.] Lobby? [He echoes the word, unsure of its meaning, until Thancred continues.]

You're saying... we could have... [He sags against the bar, closing his eyes. Some mistakes a man must simply bear. He must simply swallow them down. Moglad moves closer to give him a pat on the head with a paw. There, there, Master Jaskier. Maybe the trip was worth it, for the friends --]

Don't finish that sentence, Moglad.

[You made along the way! Moglad finishes with a flourish, spinning in the air of the very small box and hitting Jaskier in the face with a wing while he does it, scraping the point of his sword on the ceiling.

The box stops shaking as it apparently reaches their destination in the space between one breath and the next. And as the doors open on their own, they display, as Thancred estimated, the opposite end of the room they began climbing the stairs in.

Moglad clears his throat, righting his sword against his back so he doesn't damage anything else. There is a hint of contriteness to his tone. Moglad believes this was a learning experience for everyone.]

[ CLOSED ] through open passageways

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I believe we can wrap it up here, buckos