abraxaslogs | [ CATCH-ALL ] waking from the dream

[ It's fairly late, after dinner but before the dead of night, when Rhy is resting in his room and tired of reading. It's been some time since he visited the Horizon. After the stuff with all those bad memories being seen and shared without anyone wanting them to be, and then the nightmares and the shadows lurking out of the corner of his mind and the unsettling vision of a face in a turbulent sea-- well, it's easy to know why he's been a little hesitant.

But for whatever reason, Rhy decides that tonight, after a long bath and a nightcap, is the night he's going to take a stroll through the Horizon again.

Despite having cobbled together a semblance of a domain, Rhy always ends up in the same place when he steps into that other world. He always opens his eyes and finds himself standing in the crater close to the Singularity.

Only this time, he is startled to realize he's not alone. The woman's pink hair is unmistakable, and difficult to forget. ]

...Julie?

Edited 2022-08-04 07:34 (UTC)

[ There's a note slipped under Mat's door one morning. The location of one of the gardens, a time a few hours from now, and Rhy's tell-tale signature.

He'll find Rhy waiting at a wrought iron table in the balcony garden, basking in the sunlight that is currently not even magical but really shining down with its golden, late-summer warmth. He has a textbook in one hand, and a cup of tea in the other. Before him, the teapot, and a whole slew of pastries in a three-tier rack of plates. ]

Edited 2022-08-04 07:27 (UTC)

He scowls a lot and he pretends like he doesn't like anyone, but I think you're going to get along just fine.

[ Rhy is telling Thancred as they make their way through the town outside the castle, toward Kell's place of work at the teashop called the Winking Cauldron. He should be off soon, and Rhy had promised to meet him after, with some vague promises of 'a surprise' and 'going out to drinks with friends.' At least one friend. Hopefully.

Rhy flashes Thancred a big smile, holding the door open for him. ]

If he calls you something rude, it just means he's warming up to you.

[ A wink. Whatever that means. ]

Edited 2022-08-04 07:22 (UTC)

[ Jaskier's Domain has changed again. It was the vineyard first, and then the seedy tavern in the dingy streets, and now it is-- the most beautiful tree Rhy has ever seen. But it is still where it should be, and it is certainly Jaskier's. He's sure of that.

When Rhy visits, he doesn't call ahead. In truth, he's not entirely sure he's ready to see his friend. After what happened, the memories seen and more than he'd been willing to share spilled, the days just kept passing one after another, turning to weeks, and he didn't do it on purpose, but one day, Rhy realized it's been too long. He wonders if Jaskier is okay. He hesitates to ask, and the hesitation leads to even more days without word, until finally. Here he is. At the tree.

He has something in his hands. A gift wrapped in shiny red paper. Inside the box is a little wooden songbird, hand-carved despite being made in the Horizon. Alongside it, he brings a long, slender bottle of Arnesian sweet summer wine, just like he remembers it from home. ]

...Hello?

Moglad?

[ If Jaskier isn't here, surely the little flying creature will be to take the gifts, if nothing else. ]

[ While Julie has tried to encourage people to return to the Horizon -- via party, via conversation, via invitation -- many people seem fairly scarred by the past few months. There's been less in-and-out than normal, and even those who do visit tend to remain in their own domains. Occasionally someone goes on a walkabout, but it's not the norm, especially outside of daylight hours.

It suits her all right, though. It means she can mostly do as she pleases without much worry that she'll be spotted. As far as she can tell, she's the only one who sleeps in the Horizon with any regularity anyway, and always has been. She slept here long before she ever started communicating with the Singularity; it's basically the same as sleeping in the real world, and she finds it comforting. Like the universe's best weighted blanket, cocooning her without ever being too warm or oppressive. Of course, sleeping outside of her domain is pretty new, but she doesn't see the harm.

A few weeks ago, she'd have been sitting on the ground, but Julie is nothing if not resourceful; now there is practically a little tableau at the base of the Singularity, with her sitting right in the center. On a plush, backless bench, she is cross-legged in the center, her back pressed to the cool stone of the Singularity. The bench, ostensibly, is just seating, but it is certainly long enough for someone on the short side, like her, to sleep on. The fact that there is no barrier between her and the Singularity is most crucial -- Julie finds that physical contact absolutely makes a difference, makes it easier to hear. On the ground is a tray with a bottle of wine, a glass and a small plate of Milano cookies. Next to the tray is a pair of kitten-heeled mules, left when she drew her legs up. Though she is, in fact, wearing pajamas, they aren't obviously sleepwear -- she could just be wearing a matching set. It's a strange sight, for sure, but it's not immediately apparent that she's sleeping here.

Her hands are raised at chest-level. In front of her, in the air, is a soft rose-pink cloud, the center of which holds a large white dahlia. One at a time, each petal is gently tugged free from the others, as if by the hand of a ghost, then morphs from a single petal into another dahlia, which begins its own series of the same. Like a perpetual motion machine of flowers. Small blue butterflies flutter between the blooms. For those who aren't particularly attuned to the Horizon's magic, it can be difficult to tell, but this is not the same manifestation normally used in this plane. This is Julie's actual doing.

The look in her eyes is somewhat distant, like she's not focused on what she's doing. She isn't -- internally, she is trying to cajole the Singularity for direction, and all she ever receives in response is the feeling of want. Boundless, ravenous want.

She did not expect anyone to call her name. Her expression shows it, clearly.

The flowers all vanish as she sits up much straighter, breaking contact. Looking over at Rhy. ]

Uh, hey.

[It's practically tradition now that Kell will make a whole scene how he absolutely hates that Rhy is always dragging him places to party. It's also a tradition that almost every single time he will come. Not only to keep Rhy out of trouble. He had learned long ago that's a lost cause. The most he could ever do is minimize the damage. That part hasn't changed. Besides, as much as he hates to admit this, Rhy does know all the best places to party. Even if they're also way too loud and crowded for his taste.

Kell has already changed into his civilian clothing when Rhy with company arrives. He had to keep another set of clothes at the Cauldron after a couple more experimental brews has cost him one good shirt too many. He'd rather not have clothes suddenly dissolve on him. Especially, if he has plans for the afternoon.]

What is this new great place that you need to drag me to? I have potions to finish.

[ This is long overdue, in truth, so when Rhy had asked after a sparring session if Thancred wished to come along for a round of drinks with his brother, there had been little reason to refuse. The meeting might be awkward given that Thancred's only experience with Kell is from seeing him in a rather personal memory of Rhy's, enough time has passed that he can put those grim details from his mind. ]

Oh, I know the type. [ Thancred thinks almost instantly of Estinien. ] I'll be fine. [ He knows how to handle the prickly ones and won't be at all deterred by a sour attitude.

He's been to the Winking Cauldron before, though never when Kell himself has been on shift. Thancred returns Rhy's smile and steps inside, only to find Kell is already changed and ready to go. ]

Oh? What manner of potions?

[ A sociable sort, Thanced doesn't hold back from entering the conversation despite being a stranger. He nods to Kell in greeting, his expression not betraying any familiarity or discomfort. ]

The name is Thancred. I imagine Rhy has told you all sorts of wonderful things about me.

[So Moglad does arrive at the sound of his name, almost as if it's a siren call. As much a creation now of Jaskier's as he is of Himeka's, he instantly recognizes any companion of Jaskier's.]

Master Rhy, you've come to visit! How are you, how are you? [Moglad's wings flap quickly as he buzzes around their friend, his sword safely sheathed on his back, small paws wiggling.] Hang on, kupo. I'll get Jaskier!

[Before Rhy can change his mind about visiting, the moogle zooms off, spinning barrel rolls through the air with the exuberance of an excited dog at company. He flies through the window leading to Jaskier's book workshop. The moogle shouts a KUPO! as his sword hits the windowsill, careening through the air until Jaskier gives a yelp, dropping the book he'd been working on, and catches the moogle.

Who wiggles. Master Rhy is here!! Jaskier blinks. Rhy? He sticks his head out the window above.] Oh. Wait, you really are here? My friend, welcome! It's your first time seeing Bleobheris, isn't it? Hold on!

[He scurries his way down, Horizon magic making sure his clothes change to something proper and bright and clean, free of book glue, and his hair is gently pushed from his face, tied up with a leather cord. By the time he's at the base of the tree, his arms are open and Moglad has recovered, fluttering above their heads.] Rhy! [Jaskier's already pulling him into an embrace.] How have you been? What's this you've brought?

Edited 2022-08-09 06:41 (UTC)

...hey.

[ He blinks, clearly a bit confused. He'd seen a glimpse of the magic she was doing before she dispelled it. ]

My apologies. Didn't mean to startle you.

[ A beat, the question obvious before he actually gives it voice. ]

What... are you doing here?

[ She hadn't dispelled her magic on purpose, not really. Honestly, she hadn't been paying that much attention to what she was actually doing -- she has just learned that using magic while talking to the Singularity sometimes gets her slightly more of a response. Like it wants to know what she's doing. Her concentration just broke to hear someone else when she wasn't expecting them to be out and about.

The wheels in her head are going overtime, and it doesn't help that the Singularity is still in there, nosing curiously at her mind, as if to ask what she plans to say. Gimme a sec, she says to it, mildly frustrated, then slips her shoes back on and rises. Takes a step forward. ]

Just gettin' some air. [ The smile that spreads over her face is convincing. Sincere. ] Practicing. Thought it might be a little bit easier closer to it, y'know? And if not, well, never hurts to take in scenery, right?

You do not. [ Rhy counters breezily, without a moment's hesitation as he holds the door open for Kell and waves him out to meet Thancred. Just a quick in and out, apparently. Makes things even easier. ]

Look at you. You've already put on your clothes for going on an outing and everything. Don't tell me you've been looking forward to this?

[ Thancred gets a big smile too, as Rhy steps between them and hooks an arm around either man's elbow to lead them down the street. ]

Thancred's been an excellent sparring partner. [ Of the normal training with swords variety. Not the other kind, in this case-- though it's always a bit difficult to tell when Rhy's natural cadence makes him sound like he's flirting with everyone all the time. ] I told you he taught me that one disarming move recently. It was very dashing.

[Kell's own nod is the epitome of politeness...to the point he's capable of. Which is not much. He's being civil, that should be enough.]

Kell. Indeed, he mentioned a few times.

[More like A lot. To the point where, if he didn't know better, Kell would start to wonder if Rhy is talking about a real person, given all the rhetorical flourished he's brother has chosen to give to his story.]

Mainly wondering what you are going to get us into this time.

[This is performative grumbling, with not teeth to it. He's already decided to follow along. Wouldn't have much of a choice even if he did try to resist. Not a soul can weaponize a smile so perfectly the way Rhy does. It was true back home, it stays true in Thorne.]

Has he really?

[Kell's raised eyebrow does its job to mask that nasty sting of jealousy he always feels when hearing Rhy talk about people in that way. It's stupid, but he can't help. Hoped it would go away with time, never did.]

Yes, you did, but I'll have to rely on your words alone since there was no presentation to go with it.

[Because it was in the middle of the night, that's why. Honestly, he'd be more annoyed if Rhy decided to put on a performance.]

Really?

[ Rhy looks up at the monolith stretching above them, taking in the presence of it, the soft hum of magic that always emanates from the structure-- like a heartbeat. Like the echo of his own.

His golden eyes slide back to Julie, mildly curious. There is no suspicion there; he doesn't seem to find her presence here weird being being a little surprising, mostly since he rarely sees others at the base of the Singularity like this. ]

Is it actually easier?

[ The Singularity lingers at the edge of her conscious while she continues the conversation, like a dog who's been gently moved so their owner can stand up, balefully looking after her. But it's hard to split her attention equally when one party is actually in her mind, so Julie has to prioritize Rhy for the moment.

The lies flow from her mouth with even more ease than the truth. She doesn't know Rhy well enough to have any qualms about lying. She just needs it to all make sense, come off believably. Enough so to explain her presence, but not encouraging enough that he might get overly interested and start hanging around. She can't have anyone hanging around. ]

Mm, probably 'bout the same. At least so far. It was just a theory, but then again, I don't really know what I'm talkin' 'bout when it comes to this stuff. My world didn't even have magic.

[ Again, the Singularity prods at her; she can feel its attention on her. On them. There's a sliver of interest in Rhy, one that it has not expressed toward anyone else so far, but she can't dig into that while she's still formulating her thoughts, planning the conversation so she can manipulate the outcome.

I only met him once before, she internally chides. He can't know. If I ask him anything, he'll know. Call him yourself when I ain't here.

The response feels like a petulant huff, and she can sense the connection waning somewhat, which always happens when the Singularity... loses interest? Goes to sleep? She's not sure what it does when it isn't speaking to her. But it will come back to her. She's no longer afraid that it won't. She knows it will. ]

They say this place is the source of all the magic in this world-- perhaps in others, too. Even if it's an echo in the Horizon, is it not still the same essence? I think your theory has some merit to it.

[ He smiles, almost sympathetic. Understanding, rather. ]

My world does. It's a place steeped in magic, thriving with it-- except for the unfortunate few whom Magic skipped over. But in my world, there was no source like that, that we knew of, to seek some sort of connection with Magic itself in a more direct way.

I know people often simply... talk to it. We coax the magic and converse with it, and it may answer as it will.

[ Or not at all. As has been the case for Rhy -- until he came here. ]

[ It's as charming a little creature as ever. Rhy graces Moglad with a patient smile and a nod, thanking the tiny winged friend for his efforts and promising to wait. (Has he always had an appropriately tiny sword?)

Following Moglad's flight up with his eyes, Rhy sees Jaskier stick his head out the window shortly after, and is hit at once with joy and anxiety all wrapped together, making his fingers tighten on the package even as he smiles. It's not a fake smile, per so-- but he is well practiced, and it happens automatically. It fades into a more genuine expression of relief when Jaskier pulls him into an embrace, which Rhy melts into almost instantly. ]

I've been-- all right. Sort of. [ He pauses, knowing it's also sort of a lie, shakes his head and shrugs. ]

As much as any of us. But the nightmares have faded now. I hope.

[ Oh. The box. Rhy pulls back just enough to hand it to him. ]

Just something small I made. Frivolous, really. But perhaps it'll be of some interest to you.

Couriers aren't taking many trips beyond the borders, these days. So I thought I'd bring it here.

I mean, that's what I thought! But I guess it might be the same as like, when your computer's slow, so you tell it to come on. [ She pauses, catches that she said something probably world-specific. Sometimes, these things slip out. ] Uh, I don't know if your world had computers, but they're like... machines that can do a bunch of different stuff. My world had tons of 'em. Anyway, it was a thing back home, that when your machines didn't work right, you'd try to talk 'em into it, even though they weren't alive.

[ After a year in Abraxas, Julie has gotten fairly good at talking around technology that doesn't exist for most other Summoned, but it still pops up every now and then. She has had to explain everything from dinosaurs to Jesus Christ to cake pops, so now she just tries to keep it simple. The habit of trying to cajole technology into working properly, though, might be too much. ]

I mean, I don't know that it really gets any easier or stronger just 'cause I got closer. It ain't like my domain's far away from here, y'know? It was just a thought.

All right is still a spot better than terrible.

[He'll take it. After all, he's not been following the events in Thorne much beyond check-ins with Yennefer, so -- he can only hope it is not the memories still lingering with him. (Or was it the nightmares? Did Rhy suffer them, too?)

Ah.

Jaskier looks away at the mention of them, a hollow pain in his side that persists even into the Horizon.] Yes. I hope as well.

[Jaskier gives him a kiss on the cheek, leading him towards the tree, the small box in his hands.] Come in, come in! I can't wait to see -- don't you dare call it frivolous. There is not a gift in the world well-intentioned that is frivolous.

[Just inside, Bleobheris has changed its shape to form a large open room just inside, with a carved wooden table and several cushioned chairs. Already a pair of wine glasses awaits them (as if Jaskier hasn't seen the bottle of wine he's brought along as well), a plate of sectioned orange slices and herbed goat cheese on a wooden plate beside them. Jaskier opens the box as he takes a seat, going quiet and still as he lifts the small wooden bird inside.

He smiles, cradling it in both hands. Moglad closes the door quietly behind them.] See? Such perfection can not be called frivolous. You made this, didn't you?

[ Rhy is aware of the concept of machinery, and beyond that, the very human concept that spans across worlds of people just... talking to things that can't understand, carts and boats and things like that. But he blinks and shakes his head, not because he doesn't get the idea of what Julie is trying to communicate, but because he doesn't believe it's true. Not in this case. ]

Yes, I take your meaning, but--

Magic may not breathe and talk the way a human does, but it is, in its own way, living.

Just as the Singularity is.

[ After all that uncertainty, Jaskier greets him just as warmly as ever.

After a quick hug (relief surging), Rhy follows him to the table, and watches him open the gift with a bit lingering anxiety. The reaction, however, is well worth the time spent both making and worrying over the silly little bird.

He smiles slowly, uncharacteristically shyly. Nods once. ]

I like to whittle, sometimes. A hobby I've had since I was young.

[ It's not even one he's particularly good at, just something to pass the time, but he's of passable skill. It is, at least, recognizably a bird. And he didn't even use Horizon magic. ]

Yeah, I know that. [ Of course she knows. How could she not? She can feel it every moment she's awake, winding around her and beating against her skin like a million tiny wings. ] I just mean that it don't necessarily answer just because you move or ask it or bang on the side.

[ It's almost impossible to explain the depth of her understanding of how alive it all is. Kylo had once said the magic is life itself, and Julie's not sure of how accurate that description is, but it feels close to right. ]

I guess... this was just an experiment. That's all.

That much is true.

[ He hesitates, a bit uncertain. It seems she wasn't expecting company, and doesn't want it right now -- and it's not as though he'd interrupted her experiment on purpose.

Rhy offers a nod and a smile before turning to head up the crater toward his actual destination. ]

I'll have to try it myself sometime. Have a good evening, Julie. I hope we run into each other again.

Really? That's -- well, if I'm honest, not something I would've pegged down as a skill of yours. [But he loves it. It is truly rare that anyone has crafted something personally for him... and with its special meaning now, with how his chaos has formed itself into birds.]

But now I think of it, it suits you. You have a creative streak. I sensed it even when we met.

[Skill is not important in such matters, he thinks. A overly salted bread is still a bread made with himself in mind. Honestly, that's enough.

Jaskier carefully rolls the bird in his hands, his fingers following the grooves of its feathers. The only downside being he wishes he could carry the trinket out of the Horizon, where he could store it in his bags or show Mog. Mog would probably love it.]

What else have you whittled? Show me! I'd love to see.

You too, Rhy.

[ Her mask holds until he's out of sight, a cheerful, pretty smile that immediately drops from her face when she can't see him anymore. She watches the empty space for a moment, in case he turns back, but when he does, she goes back to her bench and sits down with a huff.

A sense of petulance seeps into her consciousness. Not her own. Yeah, I know, she responds. She takes a bite from one of the cookies left on the platter. It is what it is. He's probably gonna come back when I'm not here.

If Rhy walks back by later on, she won't be there. The bench, the cookies, the wine, all gone. Even the imprints of the bench legs will be wiped from the ground. She stays away for a few days. ]

What? Too simple a hobby for royalty?

[ Rhy teases, but there might be a little bit of something else in there, fishing for praise. He receives it, and more interest too, and beams.

In the Horizon, it's easy. Though he wonders if he should tell Jaskier he really did make that by hand-- or if that would be kind of silly to say on top of everything else. He can tell; that's what Jaskier said. Rhy decides not to push the point. ]

I can show you some that I remember. You can keep them if you want.

[ Rhy concentrates, and with a twist of his hand puts his palm flat out, and upon it appears a crude little horse. ]

I was so proud of this little fellow.

[ He laughs, handing it over. ]

Kept him on a shelf in my room. I must have been--

[ A beat, a moment of hesitation. Something remembered, and pushed away. ]

Twelve, when I made it.

[ Thirteen, when he'd been kidnapped. A story for another day. Perhaps. ]

Much better than my first attempt...

[ Another carving appears. Of questionable shape. ]

[Jaskier smiles.] Hardly. I know plenty of the hobbies of royals, but... truthfully, I imagined you more a painter. I know you're very talented at gentle stroking with your hand, after all.

[He laughs. He can't help himself. Company, a gift -- what more does a man really need some days?]

Oh, the horse! Geralt would love it. His are much more... well, square.

[Geralt is not, however, putting much time into them. More like a distraction, he thinks. Something to occupy his hands.]

Twelve? This is remarkably good for twelve! As far as I know about whittling, at any rate. [However, the next offering... Jaskier politely purses his lips.] Oh. What a lovely... rab... bit?

[It has ears?]

[ Rhy laughs. ]

I was a child! Yes, it's supposed to be a rabbit.

[ ~~It's supposed to be a pikachu according to the link but don't worry about it.~~

He waves the 'rabbit' away, making it disappear into wherever it came from in the Horizon with a flick of his wrist. ]

Oh, your friend Geralt whittles too? [ He doesn't know that much about Geralt, though Jaskier's mentioned him before with the sort of familiar ease people have for their closest friends or family. ]

I can make him one. He likes horses? Though if he already makes them himself...

[ It's not like it's hard, in here. Rhy shrugs. ]

[Hah! Nailed it.]

I said it was lovely! I wasn't lying. We all start somewhere. Believe me, you would not want to hear some of my earliest songs. I didn't realize at the time how wretched they were.

[No, he was quite convinced he was destined already to be the greatest bard on the Continent. And he was, obviously, but he would never have been the greatest in those years. Not until he gained enough experience.

Jaskier nods, gesturing towards the stairwell that leads up the trunk of Bleobheris.] I could show you. He has a little workshop up there. Something to distract him, I think. [Jaskier smiles, lighting up.] He hardly gets gifts at all! I'm sure he'd -- well, he'll be mostly confused, but it's a kind gesture, either way. I'll be sure to show him if you do.

Now I really want to hear them!

[ Rhy laughs, following the gesture up the stairs. He's never been up there. ]

I'd like to see it! And I'll make one for him soon. I can leave it here.

[ The implication being he wants to make it by hand, like Jaskier's, not the sort of instant Horizon-work the demonstrations just now had been, or he'd do it right away. ]

He hardly gets gifts? That's so sad!

Well, he's a bit pathetic overall, really. Which is why I decided to follow him with all the music-making business.

[Which he's glad now he's told Rhy about; some of the stories of their travels together, and of course, their first meeting (one of his favorite stories; how many can say they were personally gifted a lute by the king of the elves?) Now he has some background to begin to understand Geralt.

Jaskier leads him down a hallway made from a large hollowed out branch towards the workshop: a small carved out hollow with shelves holding several strange, crooked carvings, an array of carving tools, and fresh bits of soft wood that replenished themselves as they were used. There were also a few bottles of wood stain and paint, if Geralt ever got particularly fiesty.] He's not exactly easy to gift to. And where we come from, he's hardly liked by most. An unfortunate side effect of being a Witcher. It's rather nice for him, I imagine. Here. There's no preconceptions of who he is simply because of what he is -- besides a rather tight-lipped, rude man.

[ Rhy laughs a little, as he follows. 'A bit pathetic' Jaskier says, but it sounds so very fond.

He's told Rhy stories of some of their travels, mostly vague things about how his friend fights beasts Rhy's never heard of, monsters that sound like fairy-tales.

Rhy walks over to the shelves, fingertips trailing along the wood, and picks up one of the blocks. He lifts it, as if to say Can I take this? but what he actually says is: ]

It sounds like a weight off his shoulders. It certainly has been for Kell.

Where we're from, he is always marked as different. Other. Preconceptions, as you say.

Kell is the same way?

[Jaskier's gaze lifts in curiousity, along with his brows. Certainly he can admit he does not truly understand this relationship between Kell and Rhy -- it would be impossible, he thinks, to understand without being in a situation where he was forced to share his life so intimately -- but he does wonder how close Kell could possibly be treated in relation to a Witcher. Is he, too, some sort of monster to the people?]

Because of who he is? Or is he... not entirely human? I have a vast well of experience with that particular fear. We humans, I'm afraid, do love to fear what is not also human.

He is human.

[ It comes out a little defensive, though he knows Jaskier doesn't mean anything by it. He seems to understand, in fact.

Rhy sits down at the work bench, grabbing one of the small, sharp knives nearby. He addresses the block of wood, slowly. ]

Still, he is different enough I think some people forget that all too easily. Or they decide it does not matter, because he is also more than that.

You see, Kell is what is known as an Antari. One blessed by Magic, the strongest kind of magician -- and the rarest. He is the only one left in all the worlds. [ A beat. Rhy seems to realize something, and corrects himself very softly. The knife cuts into the wood, one small chip at a time. ] Him and one other.

Antari can wield all elements, and command blood magic. They can do things nobody else can. They can cross worlds.

[ He looks up at last at Jaskier, and gestures vaguely at his face (by necessity, with the lumpy block of wood). ]

Antari are marked. They're always born with one black eye.

[ Completely black, no white, no iris, all shiny obsidian. Jaskier has seen it. Perhaps has been unnerved by it, or maybe it didn't really make much of an impression. Rhy doesn't ask him. ]

As you might imagine, kind of difficult to hide.

[Normally Jaskier would apologize for the perceived sleight, but Rhy seems to understand he did not mean it negatively. Jaskier himself has spent nights with those who are inhuman and enjoyed himself thoroughly. He has nothing against them.

Only the ones who have tried to eat him. A rare occurrence nowadays.

Jaskier pulls up a stool to sit beside Rhy, watching him begin to work. The smell of fresh wood, not only of Bleobheris itself but the carvings, has always been somewhat relaxing to the bard.

It reminds him of the forests they used to travel through so often. That he has not seen for years now.

As he listens, he nods. Though this Antari sounds only like a particularly skilled sorceress from his Continent (a certain one comes to mind, regardless of her temporary magic loss), he says nothing. Blood magic sounds rather ominous, and it's not something he thinks sorcerers dabble in. Not the sort of sorcerer that one wants to dabble with.

At last, Jaskier gives a little snort.] Funny how eyes seem to be the tell. They're the same in Geralt's case. What marks him as different. [He plucks up a curl of fallen wood, pulling it apart with his fingers.] As you said. Difficult to hide.

[Though he almost wonders if people would know anyway. Witcher, Antari. People always find what makes others different.] You know, with you so closely connected, I would almost expect you to share the eye. It would be poetic! [He pauses.] To be fair, I don't understand how it all works.

I'd like to meet your friend Geralt someday. Bribe him with this horse.

[ Rhy suggests, with a faint smile, looking up at Jaskier for a moment before his gaze goes back to his work. ]

Oh, we're not actually related. [ Has he mentioned that? He probably has. Rhy shakes his head. ] But you meant--

Yes, well. We're not connected anymore. And it doesn't work that way. [ It shouldn't have worked any way because what Kell did was impossible, but Rhy won't get into that again. ]

The eye is a mark of the Magic. That's the color of pure Magic.

I... don't understand it well either. Not much is known about Antari these days. They're nearly vanished from the worlds.

Oh, I meant -- that bond.

[Luckily, he's rather noticed they are not related. Or they would certainly be distantly so. He just likes the poetic touch of men, bonded by magic and brotherhood, sharing something as intimate as an eye color... to be physically marked with an otherwise invisible bond!

He may already be writing a new song in his mind.]

Ah. My apologies. [In case he made any error in his assumptions. Magic can be a very touchy topic with some.] Luckily, Antari or not, you were still blessed with very beautiful eyes. Have I mentioned that before? I'm afraid my flirtations may be getting repetitive.

Nothing to apologize for, darling.

[ A smile creeps back onto Rhy's face, not quite as obviously flirty as usual but certainly warm, as he lifts his eyes to Jaskier's. ]

They're really nothing unusual.

[ To him, considering his mother and father both have a similar eye color, and it's not like they're the only ones. But Rhy has noticed other Summoned commenting on them. ]

But I do love to hear you say it.

[ A beat. He considers, biting his lip. Letting go of the other subjects and latching on to lighthearted amusement again. ]

If I did agree your flirtations are becoming repetitive, how would you rectify that?

[It feels a bit like slipping into an old, beloved robe. Jaskier prefers it, honestly. Though the memories they share still weigh heavily in his head, and will for some time, he likes to see Rhy like this. Smiling, with his eyes bright. He cannot say for sure if it's forced or not, but --

The way Jaskier reaches out for him, hands falling to Rhy's hips, placing them close together -- none of that is forced.]

My mouth is skilled at a good many things beyond mere words, if my flirtations have become too boring on their own. [He smiles, kissing a cheek. This. This is easy.] If my delightful friend would appreciate a distraction. Bleobheris is host to many, many fine rooms. With many fine beds.

Is that so?

[ Difficult to tell which part he means. All of it, maybe. The rooms. Jaskier's mouth. Rhy leans into the touch, the kiss, the affection and the warmth of it, with a sigh that is equal parts pleasure and relief.

He sets the knife and the bloc of wood aside for now. A project he intends to pick up later.

If Jaskier is keen to offer him a distraction now, he'll be more than happy to oblige them both. ]

I am always appreciative of sweet distraction with even sweeter company. Why don't you show me some of those beds? We can try them out in turn.

[ CATCH-ALL ] waking from the dream

for julie; horizon, early august.

for mat; castle thorne, early august.

for thancred & kell; in town, early august.

for jaskier; horizon, early august.

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should we start wrapping up?

sounds good!