[ Less than savoury? It's either the damn cat or one of the birds. And what does it matter which bird? They are magic birds, of the impermanent sort. They're to disappear before the day is up. In fairness, they can't be responsible for a real bird trapped in a cage, wasting away until it dies. That seems a cruel fate.
His eyes flick to Jaskier's hand around his arm. The sound he makes in his friend's direction is a suspiciously animal-like growl. Fine. ]
No. [ He looks up to the roof. ] He will not let go of that bird. I will fetch your traps.
[ Geralt has the most faith in Sephiroth's ability to hold onto that bird, if only because Sephiroth wants this done with as much as he does. He can get the devices. He doesn't want to hear Jaskier complain about his boots again and Viktor gets a pass.
In either case, Geralt is already off. Using the stairs, thank you. Or that's what he means to do, except the museum's hours have...closed for the evening, as he is informed. The remaining three can witness from a distance his futile efforts to have himself let in, but the attendant at the front door is nervous and squeaks like a dying mouse and Geralt can't find the heart to frighten the boy into letting him through. Not keen on being jailed for trespassing, either, so snapping the backdoor's lock isn't viable.
In the end, he just. Climbs the damn building outright. From within a narrow alleyway, which still isn't as discreet as he'd prefer but at least it's not in full view. It's fine. The city can't give him shit for scaling property in service of whichever the fuck official owns this pigeon. ]
no subject
His eyes flick to Jaskier's hand around his arm. The sound he makes in his friend's direction is a suspiciously animal-like growl. Fine. ]
No. [ He looks up to the roof. ] He will not let go of that bird. I will fetch your traps.
[ Geralt has the most faith in Sephiroth's ability to hold onto that bird, if only because Sephiroth wants this done with as much as he does. He can get the devices. He doesn't want to hear Jaskier complain about his boots again and Viktor gets a pass.
In either case, Geralt is already off. Using the stairs, thank you. Or that's what he means to do, except the museum's hours have...closed for the evening, as he is informed. The remaining three can witness from a distance his futile efforts to have himself let in, but the attendant at the front door is nervous and squeaks like a dying mouse and Geralt can't find the heart to frighten the boy into letting him through. Not keen on being jailed for trespassing, either, so snapping the backdoor's lock isn't viable.
In the end, he just. Climbs the damn building outright. From within a narrow alleyway, which still isn't as discreet as he'd prefer but at least it's not in full view. It's fine. The city can't give him shit for scaling property in service of whichever the fuck official owns this pigeon. ]