March Catch-All [Open, Mostly]

[cointosser]

Who: Jaskier and you!
When: All through Mareuer (March)
Where: Aefenglom, mainly the shopping/entertainment districts
What: Livin' life as an ex-Cwyld kidnappee who has never had a bad thing happen to him in his life, singing sad songs about his lost love, learning how to dance again the way he danced with Lightning.....
Warnings: Body horror in the third prompt for Yen, mentions of last month's plot.

I. CELION DION IN THE CAR ALONE WHILE CRYING; Aefenglom; early Mareuer in the Shopping District

[After the time between his current moment and his last second in that cage lengthens, Jaskier becomes more... not quite himself, but certainly more than a shade of the bright bard he previously was. It seems fair that as things become a little brighter, he must be brought down by even more bad news.

It's one of his rare decisions to leave his, Geralt and Yennefer's home and take a walk around the city. As much as he wishes he could simply go for a walk on his own, he asks Geralt to come with him, throwing his lute onto his back. Not, he imagines, he'll find much use for it. It's simply something constantly by his side. A bit like Geralt as of late. Geralt shifts before they leave, and honestly, Jaskier doesn't question it. He understands the implicit desire behind it.

Once in the depths of the city, he doesn't really mean to go looking for her. He thinks seeing a familiar face -- perhaps one that managed to escape all of the Evergreen Circle's machinations -- will help cheer him up. Even if Lightning is possibly the last person, next to Geralt, to seek for cheerfulness. He ducks into Karen's patisserie (who at least gives him a warm welcome) only to come to find Lightning is not there, in her usual pink, frilly apron. The one that matches her hair so well.

Karen twists a towel between her hands as she shakes her head, glancing over his shoulder to peer at the wolf waiting for him outside. Sorry to say she isn't here anymore. Didn't come into work one day and I checked with the Coven. Back home, they say.

Jaskier stands quietly in the middle of the patisserie, feeling awkward.]

Oh. I see. [While some faces he's met before he's not seen again, this is the first time the loss is so visceral and in his face. Before the Circle's intervention, he had been working on a very special song, just for her, something to play on a quiet moment as they drank coffee or tea. Jaskier could say he had set aside a piece of his heart for her. And he, of course, had imagined their relationship evolving --]

Well, thank you for letting me know. I'll come by for a few more of those croissants later. They're a favorite in the house.

[Jaskier gives her a polite smile after buying a nice, fresh loaf for Geralt. He steps outside to meet his Bonded. The weather is warming finally, and the sun is out. A nice day.] I was thinking I might play a bit.

[Geralt nods and follows him. They find a nice little spot in the sun near the patisserie with a patch of grass and well-cultivated flowers. The giant white wolf curls up in the sun and Jaskier sits against him, cradling his lute in his lap. Perhaps not a waste he'd brought it with him, then.

Occasionally he leaves Geralt when the wolf begins to sleep (and only fair, for his sleep has been so terrible as of late) to walk as he strums. He plays a song (minus the Office reference) off and on, and another for Lightning as he experiments with a word that would rhyme with lightning ("Bitening my heart," he sings, then wrinkles his nose, crossing the words out the notebook laid across his leg as he mutters, "Fuck, I'm terrible, aren't I?"), his booted foot tapping to the rhythm. If one has heard Jaskier perform before, these songs are opposite of his normal jovial, upbeat tunes, and not quite performed with the sort of energy he's had before.]

((ooc: Geralt will be in the background snoozing, so mention if you want to directly interact with him or both of them!))

II. SHADOWS LINGER EVEN IN DAY; Aefenglom; closer to mid-Mareuer somewhere in the Entertainment District

[Nearly a month later, Jaskier is able to, at least occasionally, go out on his own. He no longer flinches at the sound of his own name, which is quite reassuring. Still, his sleep is often interrupted, even though the physical scars on his body left by the growing Cwyld mushrooms have nearly gone completely. Mostly it's only the original scar they sprouted from, his skin split by Geralt's teeth, that still remains.

With the weather warmer, Jaskier has rolled his sleeves up a little. Enough that some of the scars may peek through.

He's felt good. For a week, even more. And yet when he steps deeper into the bright lights and loud noises of the Entertainment District, Jaskier begins to feel he's made a mistake. As fucking frustrating as it is -- this was a place he flourishes. Now people sometimes brush too close and he backs away, or there's a laugh quite too loud, or he passes by a few squirrels or cats tucked into cages, curled up with a tail around them --

That does it. Bile rises in his throat and he rushes past a music hall with the distant sound of strings, but when he catches the smell of what is, undeniably, cooking mushrooms nearby, he loses it. A chill rushes through him, his body shaking, and he ducks into an alley with the urge to vomit. He can feel it all over again, the heated pain in his right arm from the cutting. The cultivating. Even if the voice does not echo in his ears anymore, Jaskier distinctly remembers what it sounded like.

What the Cywld itself sounds like, as it urges its host to spread it.]

It's gone. I'm rid of it. This is all -- [He shakes his head to himself.] A terrible memory.

[Boy, it's good no one can see him having a breakdown in this darkened alley.]

III. SHADOWS EXPAND BY NIGHT; Aefenglom; the Witcher household; closed to Yennefer

[Truthfully, it was miraculous since that time in Yennefer's head they've managed to keep themselves separate, especially when Jaskier spent, at least for a week, more often then not his nights shivering to himself, having woken up with a choked scream in his throat. It's done shit for his ability to sing, which is simply the cherry on top.

The fluctuation between intense sadness and righteous anger has done shit good for his heart, too.

And feeling Geralt withdrawing further away from the two of them, whether he means to or not. (Which, of course, he bloody does.) Oftentimes now Geralt simply is absent at night, or in the early morning, and Jaskier hasn't had the balls to ask him why. What it is, specifically, he's doing.

Because it is, of course, something to do with him.

It's another night where Geralt is missing. He's either too tired to keep trying to keep his mind closed or he's let his guard down, and in the end, it doesn't matter. The nightmare doesn't so much creep in as catch him by the ankle and drag him into it. His body is tied down to the ground, the dark Cwyld forests closing in around him. At least, he's sure he's tied -- until he lifts his head to find the mushrooms have spread down his arm so much that they blend in to the ground. Or his hand itself is now part of the ground, melted into the soil as the Cwyld takes over his body.

Enough black he can't see the tone of his skin anymore.

He screams. A light flashes through the forest, bringing a wave of heat. Fire. It's flicking at the tree edges, catching leaves, snapping up the Cwyld mushrooms along the forest floor. Coming for him. They'll burn you when they're done, I suspect. Once they've taken all those lovelies off of your skin. His harpy nurse, lover of the Evergreen Circle, coming along with her feather-tips as sharp as needles. Just a guess. They don't tell me everything around here, but it's been a delight to watch.

The cold of the cage bars plays with the heat of the fire, and just behind the flickering flames, bright gold eyes are waiting to finish the job. Somehow, even over the fire, he can hear the growls from the monsters.

Much more patient than the ones that waited for him in the Circle's basements.]

((Feel free to add a wildcard prompt if it tickles your fancy! Jaskier will be wandering Aef as always, sometimes with a white wolf Turnskin (i.e., Geralt) following behind him or watching from the distance. You can also ping me at scathefire if you have any starters you'd like!))

Comments

[cointosser]

[Yes. Alice Elliot. A name, he thinks, that has much more power than a mere servant girl would have. He's relieved. Terribly. It was, perhaps, the worst thing he'd seen in there. Not the experiments, the tortures, the Monsters he'd infected himself. It was beginning to understand they could take yourself away. The parts that made them who they were.

It felt obvious, didn't it? How obsessed some of the servants were. How they couldn't stop talking about how wonderful it all was.

And Alice, how she said it. Transcendence.

Without pause, he takes her hand and squeezes it between his own. He could not think of touching her then. Not when it might have given the Cwyld what it wanted.] And you as well. We needn't speak of it. Believe me, I think I'd rather not. I simply want you to know... despite who you were then, you helped keep me alive. I owe you greatly for it.

[adventageous]

[His assurance brings back her smile, albeit only slightly. It's heartening to hear that even when she was hardly herself, she was still able to help someone. There was still some part of her that was her. They hadn't conquered her completely. She'll accept that moral victory.]

Your honesty planted the seed that allowed me to realize something was deeply wrong that night, so consider us even in that regard.

[It's the truth. Jaskier's words that night informed her conversation with Dorian, made her realize the horror in the midnight sacrifice, and allowed her to quickly recognize Karin's condition and go along with her plan to save as many people as they could before they fled. It made Mr. Urmanov's death feel that much more justified.

They had helped save each other that night, it seems.]

That said, I'm happy to move on if you are. And to leave the shadows of this alleyway, if you're ready to.

[cointosser]

[That's certainly a way to look at it.

He huffs a little breath out his nose.] I don't believe there was a nicer way to be honest with how I felt. [And he certainly had no strength to lie. Not at that point. Not when it felt like... her question had been honest. The first one he'd had back then.

But that was then. And though his mind constantly went back to that week, he had been putting just as much energy in attempting to not remember. To not... be back there.

Of course, if he was better at it, he may not have been gasping for air, tucked behind a run-down theatre. Jaskier releases her hand, nodding already.] Yes. Please. I'd absolutely love that. Both of those.

[The less time spent ruminating over those days, perhaps, the better. And while he craved company, it felt as if time could only be spent conversing on better things.] Normally I would love to invite you for a drink, but I haven't been... going out much. With people. Groups of people. [With Alice, at least, he sees no reason to be evasive about it. She had absolutely seen him at his worst.

He rubs his fingers together in small circles, an unconscious tic.] What do you say to a walk instead?

[adventageous]

There's no need to be nice with that kind of honesty. I don't need reality sugar-coated for me.

[Her reality, as it is back home, is too grim for euphemisms and kind half-truths. But that's a conversation for another day, if at all.

Regardless, Alice is relieved that he's ready to leave the alley. These sorts of spaces don't panic her these days, but she still doesn't especially like being in them any longer than what is necessary. She turns to remove the barrier, shooting Jaskier a slightly apologetic glance as she does so.]

That was for privacy. Your reputation and all.

[The latter statement is not quite teasing, but it's teasing-adjacent even with Alice's warm manner of speech. One doesn't travel with a punch-hobo boyfriend and group of weirdos interesting characters without picking that habit up.]

A walk sounds perfect. Shall we?

[cointosser]

[His brows raise. That's not... well, he doesn't expect it in this moment, but it's certainly far from the first time a woman has said as much to him. Still, out of the blue like this, it says, he thinks, a lot about her.]

Yes, well. I promise to remember for the future.

[Do not sugarcoat the truth. Noted.

It's not until he's turning to leave the alley that he even notices the barrier. Not surprising considering the state he'd been in when Alice had first spoken to him, but, for a moment, the very idea of it -- Trapped. He'd been trapped and he had not even realized it.

His fingers shake. He pushes hair out of his eyes.] I appreciate the sentiment, but -- but please, don't do that again. [Jaskier uncurls his fingers, noting he must have curled them so tightly they were sore now.] Consider it a different sort of sugar coating.

[He can barely stand the light barrier in their garden which is simply to stop any visitors from getting rained or snowed on. He doesn't hold it against her, though, easing the moment with a smile as they walk past where the barrier was. The crowds of the entertainment district are overwhelming, but the sun feels wonderful. He releases a shaky breath, but at least the thumping in his chest grows slower.

Jaskier offers an arm as any gentleman should.] Of course. There's a street of quiet apothecaries down the way. Good window shopping. Have you done so before?

[He could use conversation about nothing important in particular.]

[adventageous]

[Alice doesn't dwell on Jaskier's reaction and subsequent request any longer than he does. She gives him a nod and says:]

I won't. I promise.

[And she leaves it at that. It's a more than reasonable need on his part, and honestly Alice has a feeling there's going to be a lot of 'please do/please don't' coming from both sides as they get to know each other's boundaries. Jaskier's request is simply one such interaction of what will be many.

The moment passes, and Jaskier offers an arm. Alice takes it, and they stroll back out onto the street and away from the darkness. Hopefully, the change in lighting and atmosphere will do them both some good.]

I've been into a few of them, but never really browsed much. I always had a specific item I was looking for, so I was in-and-out. It'll be nice to see what else they offer.

Do you frequent the apothecaries?

[cointosser]

[He nods. For the moment, it's quite easy to take her promise as sincere. It's true of both of their meetings so far, he feels nothing about her -- so far -- is anything less than that.

A rare warmth enters his chest when she takes his arm. For a single second, he can feel like him old self again: a man who has suffered sadness and weakness but never such personal tragedy. A bard who loves company of any variety, who speaks sweetly and rubs elbows with nobility as effortlessly as breathing.

It's been a while. And it's nothing against Geralt and Yennefer, that they cannot make him feel that way. One cannot hold their lack of warmth against them.]

I did. I -- I do. I will again. [If it feels he's stumbling to reassure himself, he most certainly is.] All magic fascinates me. Before here, this sphere, I lacked magic. With some practice, I find I'm most partial to potions. I brewed them for my Bonded. A monster hunter. [He smiles. Monster, of course, is not of the capital sort.] He's not very grateful, but at least he uses them.

[adventageous]

[Jaskier's assessment of her isn't at all off the mark, luckily.

Case in point: she listens to him with full attention, honestly interested in his perspective.]

The fact that he actually uses them is some sort of gratitude, perhaps? Some people are just terrible at expressing themselves.

[At least, she hopes that's the case given that Jaskier's speaking of his Bonded. Goodness knows she's familiar with that sort of behavior, especially from people she cares about. It's not like Yuri always has the emotional maturity to talk about his feelings.]

I haven't done much with potions and alchemy here. I've focused mostly on healing and divination to make up for the magic and abilities I'm used to having back home. [Not having her Demon Eyes, especially, has taken a lot of getting used to.] I can't imagine how overwhelming it must be to start magic totally fresh, though. What did you do before you arrived here?

[cointosser]

[Jaskier laughs. Her explanation is so on the nose.] He's, in fact, utterly terrible at it. But I've had time to know him well.

[More than half of his life, in fact. If anyone's become well-read when it comes to Geralt's expressions, it's him. Regardless, he's become rather confident in his own potion-making. Ridding his Bonded of that curse had been something he'd sailed on for several weeks.

Jaskier, extraordinary bard and curse-breaker. What a title.]

Oh. [Another one who had magic at home. How lucky. But Alice is far from the sorceresses he's known himself. He watches her with open curiousity. And to be a healer, even? Rather valued where he comes from, even if she's not the normal sort. (It's usually elves, or half-elves, from his late experiences.)] I was a bard. A musician, if you haven't that term. I would travel the world and perform. [As he still does, really, though as of late -- even before this cult nonsense -- his ballads were not quite so much about the thrilling monster hunts.] And what of your divination, you said? You can, er, see the future? I always thought that was a bit of nonsense. No offense. It's simply -- [He pauses.] As unbelievable as a bard obtaining magic from nothing.

[adventageous]

[Alice finds herself laughing as well. She considers asking if the he can be taught better, but something about his tone suggests that it's probably a lost cause. Instead, she focuses on Jaskier himself.]

I'm familiar with bards, but I've never met one before. I've only ever heard about them in the medieval sense, long ago, singing songs of adventure and legend. Is that how you met your monster hunter friend, in your travels?

[Alice shakes her head a bit at his own line of questioning.] No offense taken, but I'm not able to see the future. It's possible, however. I've met someone who can. [At least, she's pretty sure that Halley's mother had that ability. It's not like the two women ever had a chance to compare and contrast their magic.]

I have an ability that's known as Demon Eyes. It's why I can cast magic without studying sorcery and allows me to see into matters of the soul. Sensing emotions and evil and that sort of thing.

[She also entered someone's soul on a semi-regular basis, but that may or may not have been unique to Yuri's situation as a Harmonixer. Plus, it's perhaps better not to scare an acquaintance with such a terrible possibility, especially since it isn't as if she had much control over whether or not she would drift into the graveyard of Yuri's soul as she dreamt.]

Or could. None of that carried over when I arrived here. It's been strange to adjust to a new way of working magic, but in some ways it's a relief as well. Demon Eyes is a rare and powerful ability that many would like to use for ill ends. It's been nice not having to worry about someone trying to take advantage of that.

[i.e., it's nice not to be kidnap-bait. She gives Jaskier a bit of a wry smile.]

[cointosser]

Medieval? [Something about that word feels. Strange. He rubs his fingers together as they walk. It isn't exactly the first time he's heard that, yet it's a little unnerving.] I suppose that's what I am. Old-fashioned, from long ago. Singing songs of adventure. [His lips tilt up into a smile.] An apt description. And yes, Geralt had a bit of a reputation before I met him. I knew he was a Witcher. I was young and needed inspiration. And honestly, who doesn't love songs of bloodshed and heartbreak?

[He'd possibly never been more right about anything else in his life. He'd found Geralt as more than his reputation, found himself a loyal friend (whether Geralt would agree or not), and had built his career from the ground-up. As he'd always intended to.

Jaskier listens and glances at her every now and then, if only because it's a wealth of information and such a sure sign that spheres can be so radically different. Soul magic? He's no expert or anything, but he's never heard of such a thing.]

Fascinating. Demon Eyes -- that makes it sound a bit intimidating, doesn't it? [He returns the smile easily.] You must be a powerful sorceress in your own right.

[And with power came... potential kidnappings.] That's oddly specific. [For a reason. A very familiar reason now.] I'm assuming you speak from personal experience.

[adventageous]

[Who doesn't love songs of bloodshed and heartbreak, indeed? Boy, is she going to have a wealth of inspiration for him as he gets to know her history.]

It is a terribly onimous title, isn't it? The sort that you only speak of in hushed tones. [Which, honestly, isn't untrue. "Demon Eyes" is a an ill-suited description of Alice's personality, but not of her power. It's equally feared and revered in many circles with good reason, just as capable of destruction as it is of Alice's benevolent usage.] I've never thought of myself as a sorceress, but I guess you're right. If I wanted to, I could be someone great and terrible.

But I'd rather be simply me.

[Alice's smile fades slightly when Jaskier states the obvious. She isn't surprised that he caught on--nothing he's said or done so far in her presence suggests that he's unobservant--but she still feels a small twinge at the conversation being turned toward her own experiences. Without realizing it, she tightens her grip on his arm as they continue to walk.]

More experience than I would like.

[She takes a deep breath. Making herself vulnerable like this isn't pleasant, especially given how recently her brain and memories were violated and tampered with, but she pushes through. Given the circumstances of their meeting, Jaskier's been vulnerable with her by default. Fair is fair, in that regard.. And it may do him some good to know that while she doesn't understand his trauma, she understands trauma itself very well. Maybe make him feel less broken or alone.

Still, Alice avoids looking at him as she continues.]

There was a time, not very long ago, where I could hardly function at all because of it. Where I wouldn't have been able to follow you into that alley without panicking just from being there.

[She leaves it at that. There's no need to get into further specifics and drag him through the trauma with her.]

[cointosser]

[At first, he finds it a strange thing to say, especially out loud. But after mulling it over for a minute, he sort of understands it. He is friends with very powerful people, after all, who have chosen to use it for... decidedly not evil deeds, as if such a thing doesn't even require thought.

Still, Jaskier understands she is confiding in him quite a bit. Or, at the very least, she doesn't see him as someone who would take advantage. (Or who could, which, you know, fair.)

Ah. He's struck a nerve. He smiles to soothe her.]

And yet here you stand. Clearly victorious. [Victorious, or surviving. To him, at this moment, they're the same thing.

Jaskier squeezes her arm briefly.] I'm sorry. [I understand. Clearly. Since he was the one who had been breaking down. Yet it says all in the world that she would admit her weakness, but having been the one who helped him.] You know, while I appreciate it -- and I admit I am terribly nosey -- you needn't bare your heart to me so soon, Alice. I know this isn't... simple. Or easy.

[adventageous]

[It takes Alice a few moments to respond, although his honesty about being nosy gets a half-laugh from her. Jaskier certainly seems like the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, doesn't he? Everything's out in the open for all to see. Alice doesn't know him well, but it's something she finds herself hoping he won't lose as he deals with everything that's happened to him.

Then again, she usually wears her heart on her sleeve as well. Despite everything.

Finally, she manages a small smile. It doesn't quite reach her eyes, but it's sincere enough.]

We're both victorious, in this moment. [Being able to rally back from that kind of episode is no small feat, and she wants to give Jaskier his due for that.]

I only mean to bare enough to let you know that if you ever need an empathetic ear to help you deal with... things... I'm willing and qualified. I know open myself up isn't easy. But it's important, in this case.

[Alice Elliot can't help but martyr herself if it will help other people who are in need.]

[cointosser]

[He hums in response. Both of them. Yes, well, he survived. That is a bit of a victory, isn't it? Survived long enough for someone to come save him. And she... she had fought off the magic that had made her forget herself.

He pauses in front of one of the windows of the apothecaries, a row full of them laid out down the lane. Several different bottles holding potions hung in the window, swinging gently from twine. Jaskier looked at his reflection in the glass, his eyes always going to the black in his hair now.]

I appreciate it. [He pat her arm warmly. He did. And yet it was so terribly hard to talk about. To himself. To his Bonded. To anyone. It didn't feel right to bring it up with someone else who had suffered, either.] I believe we'd both need a drink or two for that sort of outing, wouldn't we?

[adventageous]

[Alice's smile is a bit larger and warmer now, and she nods once in response to his suggestion.]

At the very least.

[And thus an outing for another time, when and if Jaskier is ever ready to open up to her about it. It's an offer, no more and no less, borne of her own experience in healing. Having people nearby helps, and her people ended up being a group of strangers that became dear friends over their time together. In some subconscious way, this is her paying that kindness forward. Ultimately, however, it's his choice how much of that kindness he'd like to accept. If she forces it, then she's not much better than the people who hurt him in the first place.

For now, she's happy to keep him company. She turns her gaze to the bottles swaying gently in the window, looking past their reflections in the glass.]

Did you want to go inside, or would you rather window shop from out here?

[cointosser]

Perhaps three.

[But the invitation is there, and he feels good about throwing one out into the air at all. It was true he had been spending most of his time with his Bonded, but he needs... more than that. And especially more now that Geralt's taken to avoiding him, for whatever reason Jaskier's presence bothers him now.

It's not hard to imagine why. It's no fault of his Bonded, but here with Alice, he feels less a burden.

He hesitates, his fingers tapping on the glass. It should not be so hard. It shouldn't be hard at all. He looks at the door, though, and feels his heart clench in his chest.

He cannot be afraid forever.

Or can he? Feels easy enough.] I can't say I particularly need any ingredients so urgently, but... [He rubs his fingers, lowering his hand, turning to her.] Perhaps I could use a few decorative bottles. For potions, of course.

[adventageous]

[Alice would argue that Jaskier isn't a burden at all. He's a newfound friend.

She smiles up at him, warm and encouraging, when he indicates that he'd like to go in despite his apparent apprehension about it.]

Then let's go take a look.

[That decided, she leads him into the shop for a bit of light shopping.

Often, the littlest steps toward normalcy are the most important ones.]