[Open] January catch-all

[cointosser]

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!]

Comments

[cointosser]

[!!!!!

To Lightning, it may soon appears as if Jaskier has some sort of awful sense of Lightning-dar, in how quickly he hones in on her. More realistically, it's because he's been greeting every new entry into the Tearoom with gusto, considering this is possibly his favorite oddjob he's plucked up so far. He would very much like to keep it if the opening remains.

Jaskier is already turning, strumming a new song, when the doors open.

Clearly, it's Lightning. While his smile is normally quite polite, this time it practically splits into a grin as he glows to see her. It'd been quite a while since he'd seen her again after being holed up in Yennefer's guest bed for a month. Not even well enough to take a trip to his favorite bakery!] Lightning! My dear! Welcome to the Green Petal! Please, please, come in. You're going to freeze out there. What can I get you? Black? Green? How have you been? You know, I didn't imagine our next drink together would be one I serve you. I'm truly honored.

[sparkstrikes]

[It isn't as if she hates Jaskier or his company. Far from it, especially after the last time they were able to sit and have drinks together. It allowed her to see a simpler side of him—one that wasn't so flowery and decorative. She could at least prepare for those drinks. When she can mentally prepare herself for an afternoon with him, it isn't so bad. It's when it's unexpected that it throws Lightning completely out of her element...

Like right now.

When he greets her, her smile is crooked, but still... there. At least she doesn't turn and bolt out the door... baby steps!

Admittedly, it is nice to see that he's actually doing something with himself rather than ... whatever it was he did before, so she humours him just a little as she undoes her coat, prepared to get comfortable in the warmth of the room.]

Haven't even found me a table yet and you're already asking.

[cointosser]

Ah! In my excitement, I've become a terrible host. Come in! [He swings his lute to the side to offer an arm to hang her coat. Inside the pleasant, tropical climate of the Tearoom, coats are certainly not needed.

He must learn a bit more, in order to woo her, to temper himself as well. Now that they have had their first outing together, it's clear Lightning is easily startled. A bit like a horse, maybe.

With a gesture, he leads her to a nice, quiet table to the side, with a large frond of green leaves hanging over it. A single candle sits on the table, providing orange ambiance.] Let me start again. Welcome to the Green Petal, Lightning. Your peace of mind is my only concern. [To be fair, it's not the first time he's said that today. Not that he means it any less for its repetition. He only just stops himself from bowing.] Might I suggest a calming mint tea to start off?

[sparkstrikes]

[Rather than hand him her coat, she slings it over her shoulder instead and follows him to a table set off to the side. He knows what she'd like out of a place like this at least—she'll give him that! Some of the greens that hang over the table droop low enough that she walks right into a piece as she goes to take her seat, and she swats at it like an angry cat before she drops down into the chair.]

To start? [She finally asks with a snort.] How many d'you think I'm having?

[She's just giving him a hard time. After some careful consideration, she's come to a sort-of decision.]

Not in the mood for something minty. Got anything stronger?

[cointosser]

[Ah. Denied again. One day, Lightning would allow herself to be treated like the lovely lady she is! (Probably.)

Jaskier only barely manages to contain his laughter. It turns into a sort of snort-cough that he tucks behind his elbow. He is, after all, very, very professional. And, like her, perhaps, he is enjoying his job. Just. More outwardly. With less grumpiness.

He doesn't hold it against her. It's very attractive somehow.]

You may be surprised, but some of our patrons enjoy very long hours here. And, as long as they drink, they're more than welcome to.

[The management had him add that on. But he still smiles sunnily as he says it.] Ooh, stronger. Absolutely! It is, in fact, with great joy that I can announce the Tearoom has begun infusing their teas with liquor. Hmm. [He strums his lute, plucking a cheery little tune as he takes her in. (Just admiring.) But also thinking of a suitable suggestion.] I might suggest our Earl Grey with a spot of bourbon. It maintains a rather attractive citrus flavor overall. Highly recommended by yours truly.

[Since he has the coin for it, Jaskier has certainly maintained something of a sweeter tooth.] How about you try one and let me know what you think? It's on me if it's not up to snuff.

[sparkstrikes]

[Oh. Infused with liquor...? She's never had tea with a drop of liquor in it, so colour her intrigued.]

That's more what I was looking for.

[She sets her book down upside-down, but the spine reveals that it's a book on magic—elemental magic, to be more precise—only for a moment before she sets her coat on top of it to cover that up, too.]

I'll take your word for it. Get me a cup of that, extra hot. Little bit of sugar?

[Please, she adds silently with a smile. She has a bit of a sweet tooth as well...]

[cointosser]

[He smiles. Not to toot his own horn -- or strum his own lute? -- but he has gotten quite good with this in the last few days. He gives a slight bow, enough for him to just catch the book's spine before she quickly covers it up.

As much as she sometimes reminds him of Geralt, she's much more secretive than Geralt ever had been. He's not sure what it stems from, either. It's curious. A puzzle.

Ah! What a woman.]

Of course. Something you may have picked up working in that bakery, hmm? [He winks, playing the opening lines for the song he'd written on the spot for her that last time.] I'll be right back.

[Elemental magic, hm? Of course it made sense she was a witch -- she certainly came across like a Mirrorbound -- but he'd yet to see anything that hinted to her witchy side. Geralt had only ever mentioned she'd fought with a blade. (Gods, what he would've done to see that.)

It's easy to daydream about as he tucks the lute at his back and puts the order in. Though he would often let the others make the drink, this time he does it himself. Not that... it takes much effort, really. Hot water, these lovely little bags of tea already prepared. Not squeezing it through a bolt of cheesecloth. Aefenglom had it so easy in some ways.

He returns to her table with a steaming cup topped with a generous drop of bourbon, two sugar cubes on the saucer beside it, one already melting inside.] How is the bakery doing, by the way?

[sparkstrikes]

[She'd always been a secret fan of sweet things, but she'll let him have this one, not answering besides a low hum of approval as he strums on his lute and wanders away to fetch the tea. While he's away, she hangs her coat on the back of her chair and sets the book on her lap.

And when he returns with the tea, she promptly kicks the chair opposite her out from beneath the table, inviting him to sit with her for a while if he chooses to.

The tea smells delicious, and she can already feel the warmth coming from the cup as she drops a second sugar cube in and stirs, silent for a moment before she gives him an answer.]

Same old. The day never changes. Can't complain, though... Someone's gotta pay the bills, and those other jobs get boring after a while, too.

[Other jobs being the quest postings. She can only fight so many infected outside the city every month. But enough about her...!]

How long've you been working here?

[cointosser]

[Of course he asks a leading question, but the invitation is more than appreciated. It's not hard to miss Lightning's reactions to him, whether he ignores them or not.

He sits and crosses his legs, leaning his lute against them. His smile comes easy, patient as he fixes the candle into the center of the table, and pulls a few leaves back so they don't flop over into their way.

His brows raise.] The posted jobs? Those are boring?

[Er, right, if you're some sort of superhuman warrior like a Witcher, possibly... oh, the topic is him now. Luckily for Lightning, it's very easy to distract him.] Ah, this happens to be one of those boring posted jobs. About a week? It's new for me. Usually I'm only the entertainment. [Which he doesn't mind being, of course.] I feel it suits me.

[With the overly colorful outfit, the boisterous atmosphere, the booze, the people lavished with alcohol... it's almost like home.] I'm afraid I'm not cut out for monster hunting, magic or not.

[sparkstrikes]

Yeah. It does.

[She can't argue there.

He really looks like he belongs in this place without trying to, and she has a feeling that the usual clientele would have taken to him fairly quickly than if he'd been anywhere else. Even some of the taverns are filled with boring, grumpy people (like her) who would rather sit in silence than listen to him sing.

Lightning pauses to try her first sip of tea, but when it burns the roof of her mouth, she makes a face and sets it down. Gonna just let that sit for a while longer...]

You ever tried hunting outside the city?

[cointosser]

[He smiles easily, spinning a bejeweled ring on his finger. It was his career of choice, of course, and the Tearoom is a bit more intimate than most of the raunchier taverns he'd been in.

He hides a short laugh behind his hand. It was -- the scrunch of her nose, that was all. Ah. It makes him feel so terribly soft. Yet he knows that expression would harden into a frown if he mentioned it, so he definitely does not.]

I've been out in the Cwyld once or twice, but the hunting was for more fun things. Oh! Like this truth pearl I found. We had to convince a very gossipy water spirit to hand one over. That was fun. [Even though she had threatened to drag himself and Onni under the lake if they had lied, or even thought of lying. Luckily, Jaskier's mouth has never taken to forming lies, of all things. (Er, unless it's songwriting. Sometimes.)] Is that what you do in your spare time? Between croissants, a bit of Shade-killing? You sound like a warrior, Lightning. A knight, perhaps, where you come from?