[open] how am i gonna be an optimist about this

[deadvotional]

Who: Hua Cheng, Percy de Rolo and Open
When: Auguril
Where: Around
What: Catch-all for both my idiots; quests, Lunasa, and etc.
Warnings: Possible discussion of an immensely shitty childhood

[ Open and closed starters in comments, come poke me at talkincodes if you want to do something specific! ]

Comments

[open] lunasa - red string

[deadvotional]

[ Difficult not to notice the red threads appearing suddenly, and from the general confusion in response Hua Cheng can assume this is not a usual occurrence. It should be difficult for a tall figure in red to be unobtrusive, but Hua Cheng spends most of his time quietly observing the ensuing spectacle. Watching people move through the intangible threads, watching some come together joyfully and some with utter bemusement.

It still somehow catches him by some surprise when he glances down to find one of them tied around his own finger. Not the simple red thread looped around his middle finger where it always has been, but something glowing and trailing off into the unknown distance.

And then another appears, snaking off in a different direction. He might be starting to understand the bemused reactions, now. Hua Cheng certainly has no soulmates here.

Still, he tugs on both glowing lengths out of some vague curiosity, considering whether or not to try to find the other end of them, if for no other reason than to see who this unknown magic thinks he should be tied to. Or possibly just to get rid of them. The sight does pluck a quiet note in the back of his head, though one he's firmly ignoring.

But it is enough to send him off with a sigh, tracing the lines leading out in front of him. ]

[open] the forge

[gunsmithed]

[ Anyone who's spent any amount of time around Percy will find it utterly unsurprising that he spends the vast majority of his time in the forge--though even those who don't know him might feel the same. Word has gotten around enough about their little business, as well as the fact that there's almost always guaranteed to be someone there, no matter what time of day. It works out well enough, at least.

Really the only things that change to any degree are how long it might take him to notice a knock on the door, and the amount of local wildlife in residence at any given moment. Luckily Percy has long figured out how to work around two dragons and a bear. And that they're all reasonably behaved.

He generally tries to keep at least some of his attention out in case of visitors, but when he gets deep into a project all bets are off. He's been known to ignore actual explosions in that state.

But he will respond eventually. You may just need to knock a few times. ]

rolls into this

[cointosser]

[Word has gotten around, which Jaskier is thankful for. With his last several days held up either in Yennefer's cottage or his own, he's gone on several trips through the city to see what things he could find that he hadn't been looking for on his own. Though Jaskier's success with the smoke weapon was relatively brilliant (in his terms), the mistiming on the mechanism was evidence that, perhaps, he was not built to do this alone. And with Geralt's attack, Jaskier is even more firm in the decision that there's more he needs to be able to do.

Beyond bringing up the B-word with Geralt, that is. If he can find something to hinder him... or anyone, really, that next decides to eat off one of his limbs.

His wanderings through the city had him learn of the Forge, and with his escapades already outside the city, he finds the way easy enough. The only thing that makes him hesitate is, well... what happened last time he ventured past the wall.

Fear's never stopped him. (Helps it's daytime, too.) Jaskier shows up to the Forge (the name certainly suits) with only a leather bag at his side, his arm still carefully bandaged in a sling. While he could have a healer work on it, it's a good opportunity to try out healing on his own. Just... a little more practice, first.

He's a little surprised to find he recognizes one of the faces there through a window. Ah, he... fuck, he really should pay more attention when he's drunk. That was not his fault. Parsnip? No, that's a stupid, awful name. Er... Pernassus?

Adequately pretentious. No. Jaskier steps in (luckily not noticing the dragon on the roof, which may have scared him shitless) and it strikes all at once.] Percy! Nailed it. [Well, he's reasonably sure that's right. Wait, did he mention anything about this place? Jaskier, actually, cannot... quite recall their conversation. It's likely they're on good terms.] How are you, mate? I haven't seen you in... well, you know.

[He's not looking up. Jaskier clears his throat, waving an arm in front of the window.] Er, have you lost some hearing since then? Helloooo?

[gunsmithed]

[ As much as he does attempt to stay aware of things, there are times that a project just calls for full attention. Luckily he isn't actually working at the forge for the moment, but he is hunched over his worktable, very focused on bending an impressive amount of wire into detailed shapes.

It's only when he has to rise a little out of his position to stretch out his back that he notices a figure at the window and starts slightly. A blink and a re-shift of his glasses later and the figure materializes into a person who appears to be trying to get his attention. Ah.

He nods once in return and then vanishes from view, reappearing a moment later as the door opens. ]

Hello? [ He peers over, then further when he realizes the person is still over by the window. ] Ah. Jaskier, was it? Can I help you?

[cointosser]

[Or the windows are very thick. However others may approach the problem, Jaskier is definitely not going to be quiet and let himself be ignored. Besides, it's different when he recognizes the face inside. Probably.]

Percy, my good friend! I didn't realize you were here. [He hops up the steps, keeping his bag carefully by his side so it doesn't bounce around. Didn't realize you were here was perfectly accurate, and vague enough to imply he, perhaps, had not forgotten anything from their conversation when he was, er, less than sober, whether he'd said it or not. Very clever.]

If you have some time, I do believe you could. You have some experience in blacksmithing, I imagine, being here. Do you know much about, ah... explosives?

[gunsmithed]

[ One of Percy's eyebrows immediately shoots upward at the question, but his expression is more bemused than anything. He steps out of the doorway to let Jaskier inside and shuts the door behind him once he's in. This is not a conversation to be had in public. ]

I do, in point of fact.

[ His own world's foremost expert, probably, not that it means much here. But the fact that it's being brought up now, by this particular gentleman, is pulling a thread of amusement out of him, followed by just the slightest tinge of alarm. ]

[cointosser]

[Ah. Right. He steps inside, shifting his bag. Not so much nervously as he is excited by the prospect of what a collaboration could bring him. If, of course, Percy is willing.

Jaskier brought plenty of coin, just in case.]

Wonderful! A big deal of good news, because I've been going by scrolls and, er, guesswork. I would like to say I have not blown up anything of consequence. [Wait, he feels like he recognizes the impending concern. Jaskier is, while not very caring of how he comes off, very aware of it.] Before you ask, it's not to hurt anyone. It's simply a sleeping spell -- like a smoke -- I've been attempting to seal inside a weapon. A, ah, bomb.

[He takes one of the spheres he's crafted with reinforced black glass, fashioned mostly from a potion bottle that he's enchanted to not shatter. The point, in his mind, was to make a spell that could be used by someone who was not a witch, which wouldn't cause any harm. And, most importantly, to contain no silver traces.] There's a pressure mechanism in the top that's supposed to have a three second timer, but they sort of... go off when they feel like it, and not quite as fantastically as I'd like. I don't suppose you could look it over? Witch or not, I'm terribly far from being a weaponsmith.

[gunsmithed]

[ His head cocks to the side as the sphere is produced, but as Percy listens he finds both of his eyebrows lifting this time. Jaskier managed all that on guesswork? It's impressve.

He pauses a second, then holds out a hand to see if the man will let him take a closer look. ]

As it happens, I was working on something similar myself not too long ago. [ Well that definitely had been a weapon, considering the amount of black powder he'd put into it. This sounds decidedly more interesting. ] What were you using for the timing mechanism?

[gynvael]

[ A handful of people have told him about the forge and he's got two swords to his name, so it's only natural Geralt ends up here at some point. He's half-expecting to find Xichen, who he knows apprentices here, and half-not because the man also apparently spends his days teaching children in between blacksmithing.

What he does find is zero response. He waits, with some patience, before knocking a second time. Then a third. Look, he knows someone is in there. He can hear the occasional footsteps and shuffling, and also the heartbeat itself.

He sighs. He doesn't want piss off one of the few blacksmiths in this city by pounding nonstop on the damn door. If there's one thing he's learned, it's that it pays to be nice to the people who handle your weapons. In the end, he simply leans back against the wall outside the shop. He'll give it a bit of time, see if anyone finally comes out. ]

[gunsmithed]

[ It takes another moment or so before the door opens, and then a pause as Percy attempts to process the lack of anyone on the other side. He steps out a bit cautiously, scanning the area with rising tension until he finally catches sight of someone leaning up against the wall and relaxes slightly. ]

Ah. My apologies.

[ Apparently someone's been waiting longer than he thought, even.

Percy steps out a bit further to face the guest, absently shaking out his arms. From the way his sleeves are pushed up to the elbow and the fact that his hands are nearly black with soot and powder, it might be a bit clearer what kept him from answering promptly. ]

Did you need something?

[gynvael]

[ There. About damn time. Geralt shifts when the door opens, the man peering around. Someone else might've spoken up; Geralt just waits where he is until the man finally spots him. The blacksmith, he assumes, from his stained fingers. ]

I need something repurposed. [ He pulls out an item wrapped thickly in cloth. Inside lays a set of silver knuckles. He handles it gingerly, and the reason for it might become clear from the flash of sharpened canines when he speaks. ] A dagger. Can you make one from this?

[ His silver sword, he can still handle the grip and use. This is different: he can't do anything with the knuckles anymore. There's no point in letting it gather dust. Besides, Jaskier needs more than his magic to rely on, if the last full moon was any indication, and Geralt's not going to trust the bard to obtain his own weapon. Jaskier can't tell a well-balanced blade from a twig. ]

[gunsmithed]

[ Percy considers him for a moment, eyes flicking between the man and what he's holding. Repurposed entirely? Interesting. And not something to be discussed simply, it seems. ]

I see. You had better come in. [ He tips his head back towards the door, and turns to hold it open for him. ] Just mind the bear.

[ The bear in question being the massive pile of fur curled into the corner. He raises his head slightly at the sound of moment, then lowers it back onto his front legs as he spots Percy. ]

[gynvael]

[ The bear? Oh. Geralt sees now. He eyes the very large bear and decides not to ask. That's a hell of a guard dog.

He follows the man the rest of the way through the shop, setting the wrapped weapon down on the table for him. And because he's still not sure how long he can hold it before it starts burning him through the cloth.

Inside, he waits for the man to give him his answer or name his price. His gaze flicks over the equipment and projects, a little curious. ]

[closed] lan xichen - lady in the lake

[deadvotional]

[ Hua Cheng has often made it his business to know things, for various different reasons. It became a habit very early on, and one he falls back into in this new city without much thought. A bit more difficult to go unnoticed when locked into one shape now, but he's hardly the most unusual thing walking the streets. Most crowds he can pass through without comment, simply to listen.

The topic of ghosts is one he keeps a very close eye out for. They must be somewhere, that much is clear, but even weeks into his new circumstance, he's seen and heard nothing. At least, until he very suddenly does.

They call it a quest, and Hua Cheng simply arches an eyebrow and goes. Whatever it is, it draws his attention in a way a few other things here have.

Which is why he's found himself sitting near the edge of the lake, just far enough away not to draw the spirit's attention but to able to keep her in view. A low-level ghost, he thinks, if she's tied to her supposed place of death. Still dangerous enough, if some of the others he's seen approach only to be attacked are any indication. He's not close enough to hear any of what's said, but he's watching every interaction closely anyway.

Not focused enough, though, not to hear very living footsteps approaching him rather than the lake. He turns enough to compensate for his blindspot, one eyebrow arching as a familiar figure comes into view. ]

Have you come questing, Senior?

[zewu_jun]

[Lan Xichen has taken it upon himself to help with as many missions and jobs as he can. Feeling a little useless and with no sect to maintain, he turns his attention to the health of the city and the various word of trouble in different areas around it. When he isn't teaching or in the forge, he goes out on these quests, trying to help in what ways he can.

He's actually happy to see Hua Cheng, the familiar face of his debate partner making this job at least feel less tense for the moment. It's not that he's worried about what might turn into a Geargadas version of a night-hunt, but it helps to know that the one around is someone he thinks is familiar with the custom and won't react strangely to Lan Xichen's methods.]

I have. You seem in good spirits today as well, young master. Have you encountered our rogue creature yet?

[deadvotional]

[ He's not entirely wrong, Hua Cheng supposes. He studies the man for a moment before tipping his head towards the lake, where the spectral figure hovers just over the water's surface. ]

She's not violent unless provoked. [ It's said with utter certainty as he turns his attention back that way as well. If there is anything Hua Cheng knows well, it's ghosts. Even if things may be different here, some things never change. ]

[zewu_jun]

Is she a friend of yours, young master?

[The question is gentle and kind, but the smile Lan Xichen gives Hua Cheng is lightly teasing. He still looks with caution at the strange figure hovering over the water like a human-shaped mist, but for Hua Cheng, some of that serious wariness is softened slightly. Just for him, even if Lan Xichen is still taking the mission seriously.]

You speak with such authority. It is as though you have seen her before.

[deadvotional]

[ One side of his mouth tips up slightly, both an acknowledgement of the gentle dig and a vague amusement in reply. ]

I don't need to know her. [ He says finally, as he shifts to his feet in one smooth motion. He is, he discovers as he turns to face Lan Xichen, of a height with the man now despite the fact that he'd been significantly taller when they first met. Irritating. ] I know her kind.

[zewu_jun]

Her kind? The young master is certainly knowledgeable to speak of such things.

[If Lan Xichen notices the strange shift in their eye contact, he doesn't react to it. That might be a detail slipping by him or a gesture of courtesy, but he keeps smiling as he continues with his curiosity.]

Should we attempt to speak to her? Perhaps we can ask her why she has come here.

End of Month Moon Monster Times!

[moneytwin]

[ Though winter holds the Wildes under blankets of snow and ice, the warmer climes around Aefenglom are welcome indeed. It is through the humid morning fog that two shapes pass through the city Walls, and follow a now-familiar path to the outskirts. Neither resembles something human. The broader and bulkier of the two form leads the way, an oddly uncertain beat of his paws leading to many stops and starts, waiting on his companion.

He is not the brightest (though for a bear he is incredibly smart), but he is Doing His Best, and his best idea is to go find PercyDear.

If anyone can figure this out, it's him.

So it is that the closed door to the house near the smithy is buffeted by a paw, knocking several times, before furry head rests next to it and listens. Only when no sound of movement within can be heard does Trinket plod towards the familiar warmth of the forge itself, and thumps his fore paws against it.

Behind him, in the fog, something --someone-- waits. ]

[gunsmithed]

[ Percy's had enough experience with it to know exactly what it sounds like when Trinket wants entry somewhere. He even knows exactly what it sounds like against this very door. Clearly they need to make it easier for him to let himself in when he wants.

But that's a project for another time. For now, Percy simple gets up to open it, then pauses when the bear makes no attempt to come inside. ]

Trinket? What is it?

[moneytwin]

[ The other something moves in the fog.

Dark against the wispy white cloud-mist, there's an odd noise that speaks up in response to Trinket's rumblings before movement stops, instead choosing to lurk a few feet back from the entrance proper. Not a yowl or purr, but something akin to the chuff of a tiger. There then follows a swishing sound, something brushing across the dirt and short grass.

Then silence. Waiting.

There's a low rumble by the bear, though it's not entirely clear who it is directed to, before muzzle reaches forward to grasp coat - or smithing apron, or any flowy bit of clothing - and gently tug. It isn't urgent, precisely, but it's clear the bear isn't happy, and if he's not happy, then...

Trinket tugs again. More insistent that PercyDear come outside. ]

[gunsmithed]

[ His eyebrows draw together a little but Percy lets himself be pulled out of the door, running a hand over Trinket's head to let him know he understands. And hopefully to get the bear to let go.

It's only after he's taken a few steps that he pauses. ]

Where's Vex?

[ She's never far from her beloved friend, and she'd have no reason not to have come along with him.

Unless. ]

Is she hurt?

[moneytwin]

[ There's an answering rumble; concern, but no overt panic - evidently Vex has not come to harm, but Trinket is worried about something. And it must be about Vex, given how his ears slick back, and he leans a moment into the head pat.

There's one more tug before he releases Percy, before stepping forward into the mist.

Which seems to be slowly giving way to morning light, and the shadow looming within takes on a more solid shape. Sun glints on silver scales, a narrow head with tapered muzzle. Seated on the ground, four strong limbs rest easy, long clawed forepaws mincing back and forth, its scaling running along them. But while the body is silver, the wings are a mixed shade of blue. And feathered - feathers cover part of the wing, as well as run from top of the head down to tail tip, with a blue feathery fan at the end. Around the face, bright blue feathers fan and retract.

The dragon regards Percy and Trinket expectantly, before rising to all four feet. And proceeds to faceplant, as folded wing drops, one paw steps on the webbing, and balance is thrown completely. There's an undignified squawk, mouth suddenly full of dirt. ]

MotherFUCK! [so splutters a very familiar, if deeper, eloquent voice.]

[gunsmithed]

[ Percy had jerked back instinctively once he'd registered the shape of what he was looking at, but the silvery tone to the scales kept him in place at least. He's had enough experience with dragons by now to fight down most knee-jerk reactions, but some can't entirely be tempered.

Still, he finds himself watching the dragon with careful eyes, eyebrows drawing together as it does nothing but stand--and then fall again. And then he's just blinking. ]

Vex? [ That would explain Trinket's distress, at least. ] Are you...are you alright?

[ There are so many other questions he could ask, but best to start with that one at least. ]