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

[cryptsleeper]

I only have the one. And I'd hardly call it a title.

[That part feels an important correction to give, even if it is a little petty and makes him come off as a little too particular. So be it.

After a firm shake, Alucard lets go. He has an inkling of what's happened, but Geralt never gave specifics and Alucard never pressed.]

I'm aware. And I prefer it. [Talking in circles, sharing without ever naming a thing is a skill of sorts, and one Alucard finds comfort in.] Unfortunately such a kind invitation hasn't been extended to me, and it isn't as if I am home and capable of matching his shape to really enjoy the matter.

[cointosser]

[Ah, he's that sort. Well, no matter. Jaskier has wrestled (metaphorically and, er, literally sometimes, in the past) with plenty of nobles that he understands the sort. The sort of speaking that's akin to pirouetting.

Sidestepping things. And saying far too little for his particular tastes.

Jaskier tilts his head in question.] If you are... home? [At first he pictures a little Aefenglom cottage, as he himself knows well, but that certainly doesn't fit in. Based on the lack of animal appendages, he hadn't been entirely sure, but --

Ah. He fits two and two together. Home must be his sphere, his world, not a building.] Home, yes. In a [He gestures broadly,] global sense. You must be the vampire he mentioned. Er. Half-vampire? Sorry, I'm not quite an expert on how that works. [Or monsters in general. Or whether bringing this up is a faux pas.] Ooh, could you turn into a wolf as well? I fear I've only managed a fox myself, but it doesn't last very long, the spell.

[cryptsleeper]

Half-vampire, yes. [There is a very gentle rise of Alucard's eyebrows, as Geralt strikes him as someone who'd barely share interacting with another person. Well, all the better that there's communication.]

It was a natural ability inherited from my father, as he could do much the same. [So, that's how the particulars work.] Foxes I suspect do far better in urban areas than the form I could take ever could. One sticks out if walking alone as a giant wolf.

[Alucard is absolutely not implying that someone's wolf form looks like a big fluffy dog when paired with smeone else. Nope.]

[cointosser]

Right. Half. [That clarifies nothing. Mostly. He really must ask Geralt how that works. As far as he knows from his studies, the vampires are... well, as much full-blooded monster as the rest the Conjunction brought into their world.

Oh. His father?

He was simply going to accept all this and question it. Why not? Geralt, he imagines, must have taken it all at face value to tell him that as well.]

That's rather amazing, honestly. [To simply... turn. Now that he's had a taste of it, he can see the appeal. Even if, in his knowledge, the only thing capable on the Continent were werewolves. And they certainly didn't do it for fun.

Jaskier rubs his arm. A giant wolf. Yes, he imagines so. Geralt doesn't spend much time in that form in the city.] How... how giant?

and somehow I didn't get a notiff for this

[cryptsleeper]

[Thank you for not making him explain vampire genetics Jaskier, much obliged and appreciated.]

It's one of the things that makes being here harder, even though it sounds deeply petty when I say so out loud.

[Alucard notes the rubbing of arms, unsure if it's only a movement or if there's a deeper meaning. Thankfully, the question is asked, and Alucard mimes about halfway up his own torso.]

About to here, I think? A head , maybe head and and a half, taller than our mutual friend's current form.

no worries!

[cointosser]

[While previously he could easily say he couldn't imagine, he thinks... yes, he can now. To return to the Continent without the magic he has now, even though it has yet to be a year even, it would feel like a loss.]

Ah, I'm the king of petty. Worry not about that in my company.

[If he could turn into a giant wolf and lost the ability, well. He would be very unhappy about the whole thing indeed.]

Good gods. [He laughs, almost a little nervously. It's not Alucard's fault it is reminding him of some of the creatures that haunted his visions when the Cwyld wrecked its way through him.] Large enough to be a mount! Not, of course, I have ever attempted nor considered so with Geralt.

[He gives Geralt a sly smile over his shoulder. Well.] So you became something other than a, ah... a half-vampire? I never considered so. I am, was? Simply
and plainly human. Not even a whit of magic.

[cryptsleeper]

Then I'll worry not but speak carefully.

[Pettiness can sometimes hang on a word or two, after all.]

Somehow, I don't think that attempting to make one into a noble steed would go especially well. Just a hunch. [Although boy, Alucard would love to see that conversation.]

Simply a witch here. The only thing that didn't change were my fangs. [Alucard pauses just enough so that the two pointy teeth can be seen, but not gawked at.] It could be worse though.

[cointosser]

[He laughs.] It would go as well as you can imagine.

[He still may try. Considering Yennefer and Geralt already believed he meant to ride the wolf's head in his smaller form. (He would attempt in time.) And now, he thought Geralt may let him get away with it. If only for a moment.

Jaskier's eyebrows raise. His fangs? He peers closer, staring.

Oh.]

You're not shy at all about them, are you? [He smiles.] Not that I think you should be. They're extremely handsome.

[cryptsleeper]

Oh, I'm seeing a true comedy of errors.

[A wolf fleeing, sharp teeth, everyone falling over each other. Alucard doesn't understand the word slapstick, but that's where his head is at in the moment. It gets a soft laugh that'd be louder on any other man.]

I think you're the first to describe them with that particular adjective. Was flattery the goal? [Fangs are just you know, fangs so far as Alucard is concerned.] They're fairly hard to hide anyway once people notice them.

[cointosser]

[Ah, the story of his life.

And the laugh is more than worth the small loss of dignity he may lose in the images. Quiet, yet warm.]

What? The only one? Surely not. [All right, it is fair that, back on the Continent, a man with fangs that large could possibly have frightened him. Er, a vampire in general. Not the sort of folk he ever runs into in his profession, given how much of it takes place during the day and not in dark, depressing cemeteries. Or crypts. You know. Vampire places]

Mm. I've told Geralt many a time that only liars and thieves use flattery. It's an honest flirtation. [He may as well come out with it. Though his flirtations had once been so beautiful and flowery. There was not a part of him that would've hesitated to see if Alucard was interested. Now he couldn't offer much more than, maybe, a trip to the local tavern.

Ah. Depressingly unfun. Especially because he can't help but wonder if those fangs --

Ahem.] True enough. It would be a shame to hide them, either way. [He smiles, brushing a bit of hair out of his face in a way that may be charming.] I can see why Geralt likes you.

[cryptsleeper]

Oh, you come from a place where no one is going to double take at anything close to a vampire walking about? If that's so, I'd like to visit.

[The sarcasm is perhaps a little sharper than need be, but Alucard's pretty sure that it is warranted. In reading between all the lines in his conversations with Geralt in the past, his understanding is that there are monsters back there, but specifics and humanoid appearances that permit one to blend in have not been mentioned.

Flirtation though. That gets a polite enough raise of the eyebrows. It isn't that Alucard's unused to it, it's the forthrightness that gets him.]

Well, thank you for the honesty, although I'm afraid that I'm spoken for. [No elaboration, but there's also no desire on his end to explain well there's three of us but one of us left this place, but since we're all from the same world it'll be continued over when we all depart and mirrors make things very complicated.] And it is nice to not have to worry as much.

Flirtation aside, is the charm that effortless?

[cointosser]

On second thought, debatable. [Sarcasm, what sarcasm? He's ignoring it for the moment.] I tend to be much more open-minded than the common folk, you know, as an artist. And Geralt gallops about the mountains with dragons, so who is he to judge?

[Yes, he is proclaiming his willingness to be a monsterfucker. And Geralt's too, obviously. It's how he is.

Though pointedness or not, he is enjoying the conversation. Yes, he definitely sees what Geralt likes about him. A pretty face and sharp wit. Much wittier than the Witcher.]

Ah, worry not. I'm sure they're quite happy with you. [That's never stopped me. Or it normally wouldn't. The flirting is fun, and more importantly, safe. That's all it is.] Usually. Unfortunately, it's more effort than it ever has been before.

[He may as well be honest. It seems any able-sighted Mirrorbound can tell he's not all together anymore, after what the Circle's done to him.] How am I doing? On a scale of one to ten? Feel free to go beyond ten if you must.

[cryptsleeper]

--Mm, I've never heard of art encouraging those particular points of view. [It's medieval Wallachia man, they're still dealing with the Ottomans.] Running around the mountains with dragons actually sounds more familiar to my ears.

[You can't out someone else a monsterfucker! That's just rude.

Alucard wasn't sure where this conversation was bound to go, but flirting wasn't something he considered. Ill fated or not, the quickness of wit is appreciated, if only because he's been down one person to trade off of for some time.]

Well, scales are rather a problem when you have a small sample size. I find ratings difficult to give without enough substance from others to make a fair comparison to. Is enjoyable an acceptable enough response?

[cointosser]

[Unfortunately Jaskier can not speak for other artists, but he was a liberal arts student. It only makes sense he's so... liberally open-minded. He pauses when Geralt makes a huff under his breath, but it appears he's still asleep and not huffing about dragons. Probably.

He wishes he could say the same. Gallivanting with dragons.

Jaskier's smile only grows. It's a feeling he shares; Geralt can be quick-witted when it suits him, but he's much more likely to simply grunt and move on. (And Yennefer is far too quick-witted sometimes, and wit can often be easily turned into a blade with her.

Also, it is quite hard to flirt with her.)] Mmm. Enjoyable is lovely. Somethings are ripest when they are simply enjoyable. [Like one-night stands and chocolate, which he has only recently discovered.] Well, Adrian. I hadn't meant to steal so much time, though I was glad to do so. If you've shopping left to do, by all means. But you're welcome to stay for a spell if you'd like to hear a few songs. I won't even request a few coins at the end of it.

[cryptsleeper]

I do have a few additional tasks to see to before the sun sets and I'm needed at home. [It's a faint enough hint about what Alucard's home life is like, and it is 200% vampire-centric.

But he's polite enough in having to leave, and extends his hand again.]

Music the next time, I assure you.

[cointosser]

[Ah. Before the sun sets. He catches the hint with a smile. Vampires are certainly not one of the Monsters thoroughly involved in his life, but it's easy to think that is because he lives a life mostly in the day.

He'd like to meet more. Perhaps it'll be time to change his ways soon.

Jaskier takes his hand and gives it a warm shake.] Yes, of course! And I'll make sure Geralt is a bit more lively. Perhaps we'll get some drinks.

[An easy sort of outing to look forward to. Perfect.]