middaeg | [Open] January catch-all

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[Open] January catch-all

Who: Jaskier and you
When: Throughout Ieneuer
Where: The Green Petal Tearoom and various shoppes
What: Doing what Jaskier does best: performing, making money, being an overwhelming, talkative presence
Warnings: None yet!

I. BIRD OF PARADISE (HOSTS WITH THE MOST); Aefenglom; throughout Ieneuer

[If there ever was a job that Jaskier was made for, it absolutely was this one. The Green Petal Tearoom lived up to its name, and Jaskier made sure he was ever the bright flower among its leaves, wearing a sky-blue uniform with a mettalic sheen. Metallic -- completely new to him, and may as well have been the result of magic, shining like the edge of a blade.

He had made sure to bring his lute to their little interview, performing a song off the top of his head without pause. With his reputation already running through a few taverns throughout the city, it was plainly clear to him he would be chosen. Jaskier approached it with a renewed eagerness, too: after a month of being out of commission with sickness, than another to allow his throat to heal (Yennefer's orders, of course, but he imagined it was more because she wanted silence in her home) he wanted nothing more than to return to music.

The observant may notice Jaskier's attention sometimes flicks over to the gruff, white-haired man in the corner, but it flutters quickly back to his current target: a new customer who has yet to be greeted, which he does with gusto, playing the lute with clever, talented fingers as he welcomes them to the tea room. The lute strings glow, and he showers little harmless lights around them.

Whether you are the newest customer or someone who has been drinking and just spilled tea all over the place, Jaskier is more than happy to pluck his strings. What's that? Help clean up?]

No, no, you've got it quite sorted out. Here, just -- here, use that napkin. There you are. What about a jig? [He's already playing a jig. Hope you like music accompanying your misfortune.]

It's called black tea. Very imaginative, isn't it? A bit too bitter? Ah. But sometimes we must face the bitter parts of life with an open mind. They can make our other moments so much sweeter. [Or your innocent tea sipping.]

II. NOT-SO-FOXY (MODELLING PLAY); around Aefenglom; the new moon on the 12th

[There's no need to look so glum, my boy, Jaskier is told by a faun that he's fairly certain he's older than, but considering, er, the state of a faun, he's not sure whether the white bits of hair are distinguished or part of his coloring. Fabiano, at any rate, is clearly the top of his class, and Jaskier has more than heaped praise upon him... to his benefit.

The coat Fabiano has clothed him in, to Jaskier's taste, is absolutely lovely. It's so new -- Aefenglom's fashion is both wildly drastic to even the most eccentric nobles in Toussaint, and yet is so lovely in its own right. As coin has poured in between his performances and his quest outings, one of the most enjoyable parts of his stay in Aefenglom have been the trips to the clothiers.]

I think you're missing the point, Fabiano. [Jaskier gestures at the one black fox ear on top of his head. He has, mysteriously, been missing from public eye since the night before, in which he'd used his newly developed transmutation magic -- after a long, grueling two months of working at it -- to walk the Cwyld with Geralt as a sure-footed fox. And only now, when he feels he's gotten the hang of it (no horrible bone cracking or unplanned patches of fur during the spell) it's backfired. Terribly backfired.

Of course the Coven has warned about the effects of a new moon on magic. Has Jaskier listened? Well, no.

So now... this. One pointed fox ear on top of his head that flicks and tilts and he can't control it, and it would be utterly the worst if Geralt were to see it, lest he have I told you so echoing in his head for days. Even worse, his... normal ear... is now missing on the right side. At least he's curled his hair to hide that fact, but it's more obvious than he'd like to acknowledge.

He's agreed to show off Fabiano's newest design in town regardless, but he may be hiding instead at the back of a hat shop, muttering to himself as he places a new hat over the ear, watching it nearly topple off or slope to the side.] That's... fashionable. Yes. [He turns to the closest fellow, bright blue eyes a little marred by his frown. Is that a patch of reddish fur near his forehead...? Yes. Don't ask.] The tilted hat, I can make that work. Right? This could be a whole new trend.

III. WILDCARD

[Feel free to tag with your own prompt -- Jaskier can easily be found wherever food, drink, and music (and attention) are sold -- or poke me at scathefire for plotting!]

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[ His golden eyes roam over Jaskier's outfit, head to toe. He's rarely seen Jaskier with a hat, even though it seems to be the fashion for the locals here, but before Geralt can think much about it, Jaskier's gone pulling on his fucking cloak.

He moves away from his bonded's curious fingers, brows drawn. There's a handful of reasons he's here. He acknowledges none of them out loud. ]

Skittish, are we. [ He studies the hat tilted on Jaskier's head. Normally, he'd ignore whatever Jaskier has decided is in style lest the bard decide he should participate -- but Jaskier knows him well and he's getting too damn close to what Geralt is, in fact, hiding. A distraction is in order.

He reaches up, intending to shift Jaskier's crooked hat back atop his head. ] Is this thing supposed to be sliding off your skull?

[Jaskier, if he didn't know better, may think Geralt a prude, even after their very special night with Yennefer. That he could even pull away after all that -- all right, that is a bit suspicious, actually.]

What? What do I have to be skittish about?

[As if to prove he's full of shit, he hops back and smacks Geralt's hand.] Yes! It's called fashion! [He carefully tests the hat to make sure it isn't about to stumble off. It's more than a vague hope that Geralt did not see the curve of claws underneath his gloves.] You know, I could say the same for you.

[He indicates his cloak with narrowed eyes.] Afraid I'll leave it smelling like rose oil?

[ Uh-huh. Geralt eyes his friend. The bond isn't necessary to know something is off. Especially when Jaskier's movement lets him catch a scent through the air. One that is distinctly not the sort of scent Jaskier normally has on him.

Fox-like. Interesting.

He ignores Jaskier's question in favor of stepping in closer to sniff him, less to confirm what he's smelled and more to make a point. ]

Jaskier. [ He takes another step forward, all but cornering him. ] You know I can smell it on you.

[ Geralt does not, of course, know precisely what "it" is. But he does know Jaskier is going out of his way to hide it. ]

Ahh! [He swats him again.] Stop smelling me! You know I hate that!

[Actually, he normally doesn't mind because Jaskier, of course, is very confident in the sort of smell he exudes, carefully crafted from handmade oils he boiled and brewed himself.

Jaskier stumbles back, grabbing the hat and pinning it firmly to his skull. Possibly hard enough to bruise it. His palms sweat. This is terrible. No. He'll never hear the end of this. And it's bad enough he's quite aware Geralt and Yennefer already assume he's awful at his magic. Fucking it up all the time. Bombs going off when they shouldn't. Now he's half a furry and has nothing to show for it except a missing ear. Well. A replaced ear.] So I'm trying a new cologne out, leave a man to rest. It may not be quite perfected yet!

[ Now Jaskier's heart is speeding up, too. Curious. Jaskier is many things, but he's rarely nervous around Geralt. Amusement flickers across his face. Underneath, the smallest hint of concern might be visible. Might be. What's going on with him? ]

A failed cologne that you've sprayed atop of your usual? [ Skepticism laces his words.

As Jaskier pushes his hat onto his head, sharp points are visible underneath his gloves. Geralt tilts his head. Wait.

It's starting to come together. ]

Show me your hands.

Why -- you! [Ugh. This is a terrible beginning to a day that had been going (relatively) well! Why must he suddenly be so nosy when it mattered?

Jaskier's one furred ear went flat against his head underneath the hat, the distress going through him in a wave of embarrassment. To make matters worse, the unconscious movement of the ear meant the hat has nothing to cling to, and it tumbles to the ground.

A rare flush of blood floods his cheeks.] Why couldn't you leave it alone? [He grabs a fistful of Geralt's cloak, unsure what he means to do with it. Push him over, maybe. He deserves it! Then his claws snag on the material, and when he steps back, the cloak comes with him.] Are you very pleased with yourself? Perhaps you have some snappy comment to make? What do I smell like, Geralt?

[ What is he -- ? One day, Jaskier won't have dramatic fits over simple questions. ]

Jaskier. [ He'd have snatched his cloak back, but he's suddenly distracted by what's atop Jaskier's head: a small fuzzy ear. A fox ear. With fox claws.

Oh. Mm. About what he suspected, then. Still, seeing it is something else. ]

And you think I wouldn't notice? [ He reaches for his cloak, in hopes Jaskier is too bothered by his ear to notice the very obvious bit of tail happening behind him. ] I can feel when the moon's fucked your magic.

[Geralt is lucky. If he wasn't so embarrassed by his own -- his own change, he would be much more invested in why Geralt was suddenly obsessed with a cloak. Especially a man who had gotten undressed in front of him to bathe a thousand times.]

Just because you notice doesn't mean you need to stick your abnormally large nose into everything! [He huffs, pulling the cloak back just to annoy him, throwing it over his head to hide the ear lest some poor shopper think he was some sort of fucked up Turnskin. He doesn't need that sort of reputation! And if he can't control his magic, how is he meant to be taken seriously as a witch?] It may surprise you to hear that I don't come to complain to you about all of my problems.

[ In the interests of neither tearing his cloak nor having a childish tug of war on the street, Geralt lets Jaskier have it.

It doesn't matter. His tail will grow soon enough. There's no point in hiding it when it'll be sprouting forth in a week or two. Or however long. He's never grown a fucking tail before.

An irritable growl comes from him. It bothers him, on some level, that Jaskier doesn't realize he was checking in on him. Which in and of itself is annoying. Why does he give a shit whether Jaskier knows he cares? ]

I should be so blessed. [ He pops the fallen hat on Jaskier's head, hooded cloak and all. Jaskier is obviously fine. There's no reason to press nor acknowledge the reason he'd gone looking for him at all. ] Try not to grow any further... [ His gaze drops down, then back up. ] Parts.

[At least that growl isn't the first time he's ever heard one. Actually, it's not even like the first growl he ever heard was because Geralt was half a wolf now.

Maybe more, at this rate.]

Oh, come off it. [Jaskier nearly spits fire at him, pulling the hat off. He will not be made to look like a fool out here, where anyone could see him. And he doesn't understand why Geralt seems intent on doing that right now.] I know you think you're funny, but I don't deserve you being a complete ass --

[As Geralt shifts, he stops. A flash of white.] What is that? [He frowns. The cloak. Geralt's insistence. Things are fitting together. He curves around Geralt's shoulder to peer at.

He's not sure at first. It just looks like a large dandelion puff sticking just above his ass. But he realizes his pants have been cut around it. Not well, either. Jaskier reaches for it, tugging.]

Is that it? Why you're being a bloody bastard today? Irritable about growing a tail?

[ One day, Jaskier will not touch every little part that's sprouted on him. Geralt slaps Jaskier's hand away with a hiss that's more pained than he means to reveal. ]

Fuck off. [ He's not irritable because of the tail. Or, he is, but that's not why he's here. Actually, he regrets coming here. Checking in on him. Lingering in the tea house to make sure the fucking so called fan didn't leap out of the bushes to stab his Bonded.

It wouldn't be as annoying if he'd sprung a full tail overnight. But it's growing, which means it itches and it's tender. Jaskier grabbing hold of it doesn't help. ]

Go fuss over your damn ear. [ He starts off down the street, unwilling to escalate the conversation. ] At least yours will vanish within the week.

[Oh, if only he had a coin for every time the Witcher has told him to fuck off, he'd have oodles of them on top of the oodles he already has. Not to brag.

Jaskier withdraws his hand. Not because of the smack, which does hurt, actually, but because Geralt's response was, surprisingly, in pain as well.]

Tender?

[It's not as mean as it could be, because he's certainly still very annoyed with Geralt. And this doesn't --] Where are you going? [Not for a second is he letting Geralt escape after starting this. And getting him in a tizzy. Easy to rise to the bait, but he doesn't. (For the moment.) If only because the bait is, in fact, true. It doesn't make it less humiliating, regardless.] You didn't even tell me what you came to bother me for. And here. [He shoves the cloak back at him.] If you're going to be an ass, you might as well hide your own.

[ It's no surprise that Jaskier follows. Geralt doesn't speed up, which maybe says more than he's willing to put into words. As is often the case with him.

He sighs. He's not actually angry with Jaskier. The bard just happens to prod at him in all the right ways, and the continuing changes to his body haven't done wonders for his patience.

He accepts the cloak for the peace offering it is. ]

I did. Your magic. It felt wrong. [ He slips the cloak on. His boots crunch in the fresh snow. ] You merely decided that meant I was here to give you shit.

[Ah, he knows that sigh. The annoyance in his friend has already passed. So easy.

He blinks, his mouth open for a moment in a small "oh".] Ah. Yes, well, why didn't you just say that? "Jaskier, I was worried about your magic, but I see you're fine and having a wonderful day." [The imitation of Geralt's gruff voice comes easily after all this time.] You didn't have to take my hat off.

[Or make it fall off, or whatever. The ear flicks with attention called to it.] I was practicing for the full moon. [He huffs.] My magic backfired last night. I thought it would go away overnight, yet... here I am.

I'm not worried.

[ Never mind that that's what he effectively said two seconds ago. Geralt's own ears twitch. He knows Jaskier has been trying to find a way to keep up with him through the full moon. Not that he needs a damn escort. It's just...

He does feel more like himself with Jaskier close by. Yennefer, too, now that they've also bonded. He won't risk the moon overtaking him again. ]

You're hardly out of place around here. [ He's not too concerned it might be permanent; the Coven seems prepared to assist with minor mishaps related to magic. Nor does he ask why Jaskier even attempted magic on the new moon after the warnings they've been given. It's Jaskier.

His gaze slides over, curious. ] You'll be ready by the next shift?

Yes, well. It's terribly inconvenient, anyway. Not that I think for a moment that it takes away from the rest of my good looks, of course.

[He says nothing of Geralt's worry or lack thereof. He knows better. And it's not worth dogging him (hah!) about because he'll just pretend he's a big, bad Witcher with zero human feelings, even if, through the bond, Jaskier can feel bits and bobs of them.

Has Geralt somehow made him feel better??? He's not examining it. But he does turn the hat in his hands instead of popping it back on quite yet. To be honest, it made the ear itch. Which was the strangest part. He could feel it. It was very solidly connected.

The ear stands up, surprised. Surprised that Geralt would ask.] I... yes, I think so. I won't be trying on a new moon again, that's for sure. I know you're oh so worried. [He smiles, at a bit more ease again.] Are you anticipating seeing my spectacular new form?

[ Uh-huh. Geralt makes no comment on Jaskier's looks either way. He's pretty sure that was answered several weeks ago when they fucked while Yennefer looked on. His memory is not altogether clear, but certain parts like that, yeah. He remembers that. ]

I'm anticipating not having to double back every half a meter to make sure you haven't been left behind.

[ Jaskier should be able to keep up now. Without riding on top of him, that is. Though who the hell knows. The bard might try it, anyway, at his own peril.

He holds out his hand, fur rippling across the back of it before receding. It's far more controlled than it's ever been; he's never been able to start a shift outside of the full moon until now. With Jaskier out of commission and everything that's gone on, he hasn't gotten around to mentioning what he spent all that time in the woods doing. ] The change shouldn't be so harsh this time.

Edited 2021-01-31 07:17 (UTC)

[His face immediately drops. Ah. Yes. It would truly be a miracle if Geralt were to ever acknowledge a positive thing about him.] You are truly horrid sometimes, you know? Now I really am considering taking Yennefer's advice and riding on your head.

[Hmph. All that hard work for Geralt and, of course, he didn't even receive a thank you. Though that was certainly par for the course, wasn't it?

Oh, well. It wasn't like he was bothered.

Then he saw the shift of skin. Scratch that.] Ah. So you've been practicing? [It feels so stupid to remember that child's words now, of all times, but Jaskier can admit (mainly to himself) that his magic backfiring so foolishly has left him feeling more vulnerable than usual.] You didn't mention. I should've known. Well, good for you, Geralt. That it won't hurt so terribly.

[ It's an expression he'd normally put little thought into -- Jaskier is frequently annoyed by him -- but he can sense, more clearly now, when Jaskier is truly bothered by something he's said.

Not that he expects Jaskier to linger on it for long. Jaskier never does. Still, his gaze does soften a hint. ]

You were bedridden. [ Not really the time to tell him he was off in the woods working on his change. He already knew it bothered Jaskier to see it on the best of days. And though he might not ever say it out loud, ever since they bonded months ago, he's felt most at ease with Jaskier there on the full moon. ]

Should make your job easier. [ He glances sidelong at the bard. His tone is wry, though truthfully, he's hated how much the change takes out of him. It shouldn't take two people to manage him every month. He still tires, but at least he can get himself home without collapsing. ] Not fucking babysitting me the morning after.

Hardly an excuse. Illness has rarely kept me from anything. [Though he doesn't speak on how close to serious illness he thinks he had been, that it lasted so long and put him so much out of commission. It is a fair excuse, really, but he still... would've liked to hear.

Ah, well. What did anyone know, anyway, about the two of them, besides the two of them? It shouldn't bother him. And it didn't. Clearly.

Jaskier laughs.] You really think yourself some horrible burden to us, don't you? [He hummed. Right. As if the one thing he dreaded during each month was taking care of his friend the night after such a horrific change.] As if I didn't learn how to change into a literal fucking animal to help you. Without so much as a single thanks! Though, truth me told, there's little song material in nursing you out of your full moon sickness.

[He shot him a wry smile, and it was clear he was trying to shake off whatever had made him say too much of the wrong thing.] I delight in being your nursemaid for a morn or two. I think last time you actually complimented my sandwiches. In your own Geralt way, of course.

Edited 2021-02-03 07:32 (UTC)

[ For a moment, he's quiet. He's known Jaskier long enough to hear what he's saying beneath what he is not saying. A rarity by itself: Jaskier almost never doesn't say what's on his mind. Only if it's important to him.

Perhaps he's learned some, over the past months. Or it's the matter of the bond, a thread that lingers between them constantly. One that makes it harder and harder to deny that...certain people are important to him. A small few. ]

Your sandwiches are not why I meet you every full moon. [ He looks over briefly, before continuing on ahead. It's not the thank you, he knows, that Jaskier is seeking.

So he does want to remind Jaskier that he's shown up at the bard's doorstep or waited for him at the edge of the woods -- every month, for three nights -- for a reason. Whether he can technically handle himself on his own or not. ]

And you needn't me unconscious to have a reason to find me at sunrise.

[He at least knows Geralt's astute enough not to push some of the matter. It's... urgh, complicated, or getting there, which is awful. He must make it uncomplicated.

He fiddles with the ring on his finger. Luckily, it is not the cursed one that makes him speak in rhyme. He's set that aside for future parties and jokes.] I know.

[It's true that Geralt has waited for him each time. And that he has gone each time to meet him at the full moon, even considering what happened the first time.

Jaskier doesn't need the exact words. He steps a little brighter in beside him regardless.] Ahh, it almost sounds like you're inviting me on a date. [He nudges him with an elbow, playful.] I know. I do. [He goes quieter.] I do appreciate you saying it. And gods forbid I ask you say more, before you explode on the spot.

[It's more than he expects Geralt to offer him. He tips his head.] Come get drinks with me. It's been a while. We can toast to having fuzzy little ears we despise.

[ Geralt makes a noise that effectively tells Jaskier to fuck off without voicing it. No, he's not speaking any more on the topic whether Jaskier asks or not. He's said what he wanted to say to his friend.

Said fuzzy ear twitches. ] You're buying.

[ He slows down so that he and Jaskier fall into step together now that he's no longer escaping the conversation. The new look suits the bard. Silk and colourful embroidery. There are more colors here than there'd been on the Continent -- richer dyes -- and Jaskier seems to have taken full advantage.

A drink is not a bad way to end the day. It'll take his mind off his changes, at the very least. ]

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[Open] January catch-all

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