[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] 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?

[cointosser]

[He hands it over without ceremony. Guesswork and picking a Witcher's brain and... more guesswork, filling in the blanks, because it's Geralt. For once in his life, he'd love to meet a mouthy Witcher. The stories he'd be able to get from that one --]

Oh, really? I believe that's what we call fortuitous, then.

[He tilts the sphere up, pushing down on a couple of pins that Geralt had already smashed a bit.] Here, I, er, think. Honestly I got a bit of help with this from another Coven witch, so I'm not entirely sure how it all works. I say spell, but I suppose it's a bit more like a potion? There's a reactive bit inside between some liquids, I think the pin mixes them... but perhaps it's not working as it should?

[This is all guesswork. Oh, gods. The terrible things he's probably going to create from guesswork.] What did you base yours off of?

[gunsmithed]

[ Percy makes a thoughtful sort of sound, though something slightly wry flickers through his expression, gone a second later. Potions are very much not his area of expertise, so Jaskier may find his advice a bit lacking there. But he hesitates for just a second before handing the thing back over, and moves towards his worktable to pick up one of the prototypes he's so far managed not to explode. ]

Clockworks. [ He holds the little metal sphere up for Jaskier to see, then pulls it apart to show him the tiny, intricate gearwork inside. ] Once it's cranked, it slowly adds tension to a spring, which eventually sets of a flint to ignite the powder inside.

[ Which only really works with something flammable, but. Percy shrugs and sets both halves down again. ]

Two very different angles, but we may be able to meet somewhere in the middle.

[cointosser]

Clockworks? [It takes him a moment to put together clock and, well, whatever that little thing Percy is holding is.] Oh, right, the ticking things.

[Excuse him, he is vastly outdated even by Victorian times. His brows raise as he stares at the sphere. Shit. And here he thought his potions were advanced.] It's so tiny.

[It is startling realizing how completely out of his depth he is here. Of course he is, considering he is far from a weaponsmaker, yet... oof. Well, no matter. He has to continue for Geralt's sake.]

Admittedly I don't understand exactly how that works, but I believe I get the gist. If I can form something ignitable with the same effects... [Oh, that sounded fascinating.] The important part, I would assume, is making sure the, er, machinations are not destroyed in the use of the weapon. I'm afraid I don't have that much coin.

[gunsmithed]

Ah. [ That is a bit more of a conundrum. And not something Percy's considered much, given that he tends to work primarily in explosions. But he cocks his head, considering, then moves to find a mostly-clean sheet of paper and a pencil, drawing out a very vague image as he talks. ]

Perhaps something to hold your two liquids separate, until it ticks down and releases to let them mix together. As long as it's not incendiary or damaged, it conceivably should be possible to reset and fill it.

[ He twists the page towards Jaskier, a sketched sphere with a small wall dividing it into two halves and the suggestion of the machinery that might move it along the back. ] Something like that?

[cointosser]

[As much as Jaskier's foray into weapon-making could be the result of his typical foolhardiness, the way he rubs his fingers together as Percy thinks it over belies that he is, in fact, quite invested. He doens't want Geralt getting hurt because he couldn't get the timing right.

A miracle the Witcher even trusted his weapons at all, honestly.]

Now that's an idea. [He peers over Percy's shoulder. The sketch looks as Percy described. Less a powder, more liquids. The closer to potions they were, the more help he could possibly find.] I have to bow to your expertise in the matter, but I think that will suit me fine. I'm leaning away from, ah... actual explosions, as it were.

[By gods, the man might actually be a professional. Who knew going to someone who has knowledge in the matter would help?] If you would construct me three or four of these, I would be indebted.

[gunsmithed]

[ The idea of avoiding blowing anything up earns Jaskier a brief flicker of an amused look, but Percy lets it lie in favor of straightening back up. Well, he had wanted to do something other than weapons. This isn't quite there, but it is at least heading in that direction. ] I'll see what I can do. It will probably require a fair amount of testing before I can be certain it's viable.

[ Theoretically it's simple enough, but Percy's done this long enough that he knows just how many places a build can go wrong in. Just because there's no black powder in this one doesn't mean it isn't still potentially dangerous.

How exciting. ]

At some point I'll need to know what sort of potions you're using so I can test those too.

[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. ]

[gunsmithed]

[ The space is split in half, or near enough, with more than ample evidence of two very different minds at work. The part Percy heads towards is crowded in paper, all sketches and designs, and tangles of wire in metal in varying states of anything recognizable, with two large and very well secured barrels standing quietly near the wall.

He absently pats the bear's head as he passes, and gets a rumble in answer that has one side of his mouth quirking up slightly. Though the expression flattens again as he gets a better look at his guest. A quick, measuring look, and then he moves to pick up the metal that was set down. That gets a much longer stare. ]

Is this pure silver? It's not going to hold an edge terribly well, if you want a knife made from it. [ An alloy could be better, possibly, but he lifts an eyebrow at Geralt anyway, waiting for an answer. ]

[gynvael]

[ The bear is, in fact, slightly more distracting than he'd thought. He'd assumed it was another Turnskin, but the fact that it gets a pets on the head as if it were a household dog suggests something else.

Geralt looks back. ] Meteorite core. It's not for common use. [ Like most of the weapons he owns, silver or not, meteoric iron sits beneath. There's a brief pause as he considers how much he wants to explain. ] It only needs enough silver layered for contact. [ Speaking of the blade. He gestures with his thumb and forefinger. ] About six inches.

[ Short, so Jaskier can keep it concealed on him. He's requested a dagger for a reason: it's easier to stab and ideally, Jaskier will sink it into something (hopefully not Geralt) and flee.

Or more ideal: it never gets used at all. But, well. ]

Do what you need to. I'll pay, as long as it gets done.

[gunsmithed]

[ Ah, well. That makes a bit more sense. Percy gives the metal another considering look, then nods. Separating out the two metals while melting it down will be irritating, but not impossible. And Percy might not be the blades expert here, but knives he can probably manage, and assistance can always be enlisted.

But he does flick a glance back towards Geralt, thoughtful and almost searching. ]

Are you looking for something that can be hidden, or?

[ Percy's spent enough time around someone who uses quite a few daggers to know just how many variations there can be. And what those variations might be used for. No judgement on any of them, but it would be helpful to know. ]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt watches the other man while he deliberates, but he seems ultimately satisfied with what's been requested. Geralt's reply comes without hesitation. ] Yes.

[ There is a short pause before he adds, ] It's not for me. Something light. Easy to handle. He's... [ Untrained? Unskilled? Is there a simple way that entirely sums up Jaskier's exact skill level when it comes to a blade or any sort of weapon in general?

Yes. Actually. There is. ] He's a bard.

[gunsmithed]

[ And that oddly, does actually explain everything, or at least it explains enough. The expression that flickers across Percy's face is both amused and knowing as he nods once.

So something lightweight and subtle, most likely. Easily disguised. That could be easy enough done, and he makes a thoughtful sound as his eyes go distant for a second. ]

Just how ostentatious is your bard? [ The ones Percy knows may or may not be the best baseline to go off, fond of them as Percy is. ]

[gynvael]

[ That's a new one, the knowing look that Geralt sees on the blacksmith's face. Amusement of his own appears briefly as he considers the question. ]

He wore a silk doublet to a swamp.

[ Admittedly, Geralt did not tell Jaskier that they were going to a swamp, but he thinks it's a given seeing as he was, for example, following a witcher and had been for the past ten years at that point. Clearly, it isn't lack of experience that made Jaskier do it.

In any case, the answer is: extremely. ]

[gunsmithed]

[ Percy can't fight back a snort at that, though he isn't really trying either. And he'd be told that he went about a bit overdressed. At least he'd worked armor into his frock coat. ]

Fair enough. [ And it does paint a very particular picture. ] Do you want me to run the design by you once I have it or are you trusting my sense of taste?

[ One eyebrow lifts over his glasses to go with his faintly sardonic tone. ]