Not on fucking purpose, Adrian! I'm being serious!

[So much for attempting to ease tension. Except he wasn't. He just -- something in him feels off, entirely, as if a leg has been replaced by an arm. That this heat in his chest is not entirely new as of this moment is somehow making it worse. And that he is enjoying seeing Alucard crush metal in his fist like it is only made of paper. Not the violence inherent in the act, but this giving in to anger.

Jaskier breathes in through his nose, closing his eyes, hands crossing his chest. He's fine. He's calm.]

Me? Usually? Do you think there is a man in this world who would claim I hold anything back? [It is an automatic defense as his shoulders stiffen, his arms crossing tighter. Closing in on himself, because Alucard has managed to find an arrow straight for him.

Another breath.] Yes. I think so. And things I do not even believe. Only... only thoughts. Those ones that pop in first, before you have truly assessed anything. The same ones that make one contemplate the effects of walking off a ledge.