[ It's not the first time Ciri's come over since the procedure. As soon as Jayce gave her the go-ahead, she was there to offer her congratulations and support to Viktor, and has since been a frequent visitor, bringing Viktor pastries and bread from Kol's bakery and checking on his progress with the puzzle she'd given him -- even if he probably finished it pretty quickly. One time, she even showed up with a huge bottle of vodka, which she was surprised and mildly annoyed to find deferred for a later time rather than opened in celebration. Something about needing the energy to heal (as if vodka isn't helpful for that; ridiculous).
This time is about the same as most of the others. Ciri arrives with a basketful of still-warm sweet rolls, about to make her way up to Viktor and Jayce's apartment -- when she is nearly shoved aside by a cadre of grim-faced people she doesn't recognize, dressed not exactly in uniform and yet in such a unified, stiff fashion, it's unmistakable they're some sort of official group. Not city guard, nor soldiers, as far as she can tell, but no more trustworthy at first glance.
Ciri's first instinct is aggressive. Her metaphorical hackles rise at once, and she grips her basket of bread hard enough to feel it creak beneath her grip, ready to make a weapon out of the flimsy wicker at a moment's notice. But the man who bumped into her stiffly apologizes and they move past all hurried and official-looking, leaving Ciri baffled and a little stunned.
A few seconds of silence pass before she realizes she's just standing in front of the still-open door looking like she's about to threaten somebody with a bunch of cooling rolls.
Eventually, she steps inside. ]
Jayce? [ Had those suspicious weirdos come in here when no one was even home? ]
second week of feb.
This time is about the same as most of the others. Ciri arrives with a basketful of still-warm sweet rolls, about to make her way up to Viktor and Jayce's apartment -- when she is nearly shoved aside by a cadre of grim-faced people she doesn't recognize, dressed not exactly in uniform and yet in such a unified, stiff fashion, it's unmistakable they're some sort of official group. Not city guard, nor soldiers, as far as she can tell, but no more trustworthy at first glance.
Ciri's first instinct is aggressive. Her metaphorical hackles rise at once, and she grips her basket of bread hard enough to feel it creak beneath her grip, ready to make a weapon out of the flimsy wicker at a moment's notice. But the man who bumped into her stiffly apologizes and they move past all hurried and official-looking, leaving Ciri baffled and a little stunned.
A few seconds of silence pass before she realizes she's just standing in front of the still-open door looking like she's about to threaten somebody with a bunch of cooling rolls.
Eventually, she steps inside. ]
Jayce? [ Had those suspicious weirdos come in here when no one was even home? ]
Viktor?