( OPEN ) february catch-all

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Jaskier; Yennefer; You
When: February // Feoveuer
Where: Aefenglom
What: A rescue. Not quite from who you'd expect. + other things as they come.
Warnings: Violence, CW related to the current event.

[ starters in comments. plot with me at discontinued! ]

OPEN: post-kidnapping

CLOSED: Jaskier | Yennefer | Jaskier pt. ii | yennefer + myr

Comments

[notbert]

I did ask for your story in the beginning. You wanted the reason why.

['Ardbert' seems amused to have to point that out and his expression is bemused. Ask a question and don't complain when you get an answer, maybe?

As to the motivation behind asking... well, it can work in Elidibus's favor if Geralt believes it to be for an altruistic dream of doing good. And it can prove beneficial should the Turnskin discover there's more than idealism in the Ascian's intentions.

The thing that will be noticed most, however, is that this stranger seems to be listening. Even as Geralt rattles off incidents and aftermaths of the past events mentioned and avoids his own tale, 'Ardbert' takes in the words, storing them away as information to be used later.

Though there's a moment where he closes his eyes. A touch of a smile on his lips and a shake of his head. When he opens them once again, he still has the bearing of a good-natured man, though his words may give reason to believe there's some experience in doing things other than taking a large axe and sticking it into something until it stops moving to solve a problem.]

Yes, one could attack one's finances. Send knives in the dark. Or utter a well-placed word to animate a puppet's strings. But machinations are not what I'm after.

[Ardbert leans forward, arms rested against the tabletop and hands clasped together casually.]

There are few matters more foolish than to move blindly forward to do some good without hearkening to what can be learned from the past.

[Witches and tongues, right?]

...Or as in the matter of your tale, the present.

[Nope, he's not giving up on that. Not one bit.]

[gynvael]

[ That's not untrue. Geralt looks vaguely annoyed that he's somehow trapped himself in a circular conversation. Or a conversation at all, really. ] And you quickly made me regret asking.

[ He'd definitely have rather been accosted to do a job. He misses that: when people would only bother him to pick a fight or demand his help while haggling down to a single coin. Now he has folks prying into his business while he's trying to get drunk. Giving speeches on machinations and doing good.

This is what he gets for engaging when he should know better. Because no, he's not going to sit here and detail what happened to Jaskier for one man's lofty vision of good. And the detached way Ardbert speaks of it—a tale, just a tale; it's not a tale, it's his friend's fucking life—only raises his hackles further. ]

I've said what I will. [ He refills his glass. Whatever goodwill Ardbert earned by buying him a pitcher has dried up, and Geralt doesn't care enough for social norms to hide it. Nor to stop drinking the free beer. ] You want your precious tale, you'll have to fuck off and bother someone else.

[notbert]

[A mild shrug seems to give concession to Geralt's point. The Turnskin's regret is as plain as if it were written on his forehead.

But doing good? It's a strange place to be doing good, no matter what this Ardbert fellow said. Also, never did he say 'just' a tale. The visage of the 'good-natured altruist' fades a little. Some might call it 'becoming serious'. Yet he had such an expression before, despite the friendly demeanor. Rather, a little of Elidibus' true manner is brought to bear.]

My intention was not to offend. If I have done so, then you have my apologies.

[He's not so crass as to request Geralt stop drinking said free beer, though it is not much of an apology in itself. The seat Elidibus claimed is pushed back slightly as the man rises. His own mug is left unfinished and mostly full, should Geralt happen to check later. It is clear he is preparing to leave. No attempts to cajole or further insist on the good he could do with what the Turnskin can tell him.

Though he seems to pause with a momentary thought.]

May I have your name?

[gynvael]

[ Uh-huh. There's enough liquor in him that Geralt's checked out of the conversation by now. The slip in demeanor brings nothing of note to him because men are men, and underneath whatever they propose drives their heart, they're all the same. He has little doubt much of the Circle thought they were doing something good with their experiments. Saving the world from the Cwyld with the knowledge they hoped to gain. A noble cause.

He doesn't want an apology. He's hardly slept and he wants to be left alone. Which doesn't seem to be happening, despite him telling the man to fuck off, seeing as he's now being asked his name. Does he need to be any clearer? Should he write it out?

Ardbert is met with a flat expression and an even flatter reply. ]

No.

This should not have taken this long to put up. My month has been scatterbrained. :(

[notbert]

[Too bad because an apology is given. Surely he deserves the right to for the pitcher of beer Geralt continues to enjoy. Especially since Elidibus doesn't get a name out of the man.]

Of course. I should have expected as much. I will bid you good day.

[It's not apologetic really. He speaks more as though he took another measure of the man before him. At least, in Geralt's current condition. Without another word Elidibus departs. Possibly to find some other troubled soul to accost.]