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

[turmoiling]

I suppose so. [Jin Guangyao replies with rather less certainty. Even if he was a more imposing creature, able to vie with the local Monsters at all, there was a promise made a long time ago now... even if he hadn't seen Xichen in some time now.] It certainly seems an easier matter for some, and I'm afraid that I am not quite up to the competitive standards there besides.

[Gaze downcast, the subject of his own musicality is not that much easier to handle in some ways, considering the role it had played in a betrayal of another kind years ago -- and the roiling complexities of how it still echoed into his life here. Even though he was only a monster here and unable to use magic... no doubt certain individuals would have been suspicious regardless.] Not so much, I'm afraid. I only learned what would be considered refined, and what would be used for, well, something close enough to what those here would call magic.

[cointosser]

[Somehow completely without intent, he's stumbled onto subjects that have a touch of listlessness to them, going by Jin's tone. Jaskier attempts to smile to smooth things over, plucking at his lute without much thought to it.] Come now. With that face, surely you're suitable competition.

[In beauty, grace, and in talent. (Well, the last Jaskier is simply assuming, but it would be a silly thing to puff one's musical talents up.]

You used your music in magic? How queer. [He tips his head with interest. Another person who'd crafted magic in their own sphere. Sometimes it feels he's the only one who's a simple, normal human.] And what is considered "refined"? I can guess. Dry, humorless banquet music. Rare, but I've done them myself.

[turmoiling]

[The compliment elicits a smile at least, and a softer, more favoring look. Still, he does have to shake his head.]
I'm afraid the kinds of competition favored are more martial in nature. I have fought before, but against with those who are not only larger, but have trained through their lives, I think it would be quite hopeless.

[There are reasons to favor the Underground but those issues... are not among them, unfortunately.]

Is it so unusual to think of music in such a way, in your realm? After all, music can soothe the spirit or enflame it. [Mentioning the latter... is a sort of honesty in a way, an indirect mention of an unfortunate truth. But it seems a good thing to at least spark the ideas to his compatriot here, if it hasn't already occurred to the man.] Of course the melody alone was only the half of it, the rest to be imbued with one's own inner strength. I know some here have blended such things with the local magic, at least. Perhaps you should consider the effort as well.

[cointosser]

Oh. Oh, I see your point. Yes, oof, I wouldn't stand much of a chance. I'll bring my brute of a Bonded if I ever do visit.

[The warning was appreciated, especially with the state he was in now. Normally he would have... at least some semblance of confidence in his magic to defend himself with, if only to put them to sleep so he could run off.]

Well, in my realm, I'm about the furthest thing you can get from an expert on magic. I've little to no experience. I mean, besides monsters, I suppose, though not many consider them magic in particular. [He was sure Geralt was cringing somewhere at the very idea of it.

Hmm. Jaskier takes that in with a curious tilt to his smile.] Has anyone told you that you speak with a rather fascinating melody yourself? [He runs his hand over his lute.] I've mixed a little magic with music, but in the end, I don't want to... change the shape of it. My music is my own, and it was before I ever had magic.

[turmoiling]

[Subtle, Jaskier. Recalling a compliment last time as well... It doesn't go entirely unappreciated. Though it's been close to a year now since the full extent of his monstrous transformation took place, he still feels a certain unpleasantness is inherent in having more serpentine features. And there is the issue of having that voice, soft and lilting, used to hypnotize -- well, and now that was taken away from him, after everything that had happened wrong with it in the last month.

Suffice to say, complicated feelings are masked with only a light smile.]

It's kind of you to say so. I'm afraid I'm rather less of a singer, though.

Were circumstances different, I would suggest a melody or two I know, to focus magic on. But where I was once from, these things were often kept as secrets or only taught to members of a certain sect. One would think it wouldn't matter so much here, in a land without such affairs, but I fear a few people here would think quite poorly of me if anything was shared, still.

[Though they already think poorly of him for other reasons... it would be just another black mark.]

[cointosser]

[Look, he is what he is. And an outrageous flirt doesn't take pretty men discussing interesting topics lying down.

Jaskier waves a hand.] It's no matter. There's plenty who would tell you there's power in words alone, whether musical or not.

[Different circumstances. He wonders what circumstances those might be. Has he lost some ability since coming here, and changing? To be fair, Jaskier has seen no musical talent particularly in any Monster outside of Connor, and the fellow merrow he's interacted with.

It doesn't seem wise to pry so intimately quite yet.

Oh. He shifts in his position. Sects?] So, a religious melody, you mean? I very well can't convince you to share it, but it would not be unappreciated. Shall I swear a bond of silence?

[He smiles. It's mostly a tease, but if Jin could be convinced... well.]

[turmoiling]

[He'd caught some flack in his time as a 'stealer of techniques', but it was really the only way to get half as far as those who'd started training at a much younger age.]

Cultivation sects. What would have been called magic, were it here.

[He clarifies a little, and that slight smile seems a little more puckish, glancing down and to the side.]

I suppose if you were to hear one melody, once, it isn't as if you would be able to recall it from memory.

[He suggests -- as if that isn't something he himself can do, and probably a skilled musician like Jaskier can pick up things quite easily as well. But even though he knows Lan Xichen would be disappointed in him for it, it's hard not to want a little goodwill directed his way, especially when things have been... rough, lately.]

[cointosser]

Cultivation -- oh. [If you ask Jaskier, that actually sounds rather frisky. He decides to not voice this out loud for fear of possibly offending him, or making him sound stupid.

Jaskier clears his throat.]

Well, Jin, don't make me sit here and lie to you! That would be terribly uncouth. [He matches the smile easily, but it's an offering, a it's up to you; I won't press. Music is the only thing he may not be a pushy bastard about, knowing how entirely personal it can be. Even Jaskier has songs written for himself that he refuses to perform, even for his closest of friends.] I'm sure I would not carry the same magic, either way.

[turmoiling]

[Jin Guangyao agrees, to the latter at least. As for the former... sometimes a lie is necessary in one way or another. That Jaskier is able to make such a little comment -- it's nice, at least, that he thinks the remark a cute little jibe between them, unaware of Jin Guangyao's own past transgressions.

It's that, that settles his mind a little.]

No, it wouldn't. Such a melody would have been played to ward off evil, during a battle perhaps. But here... as you say, it's only a small piece of music.

[The tune he hums is one of the Gusu Lan clan's, but also stolen by Moling Su clan. So it's not as if it's something more closely treasured, like the original form of Clarity. The tune is wordless, but vibrant and pleasant to the ear. It's been a very long time since he heard it, but it's no trouble to recall the correct notes.]

[cointosser]

[So he wasn't kidding about the magic. How strange. How... much more it might be, even, to have magic in his music since the beginning of his life. To have worked with it his whole life.

Yes, well. At least he can still claim all of his fame came without a speck of help from magic. It was all him.

He closed his eyes as the tune began, spinning a ring on his finger with his thumb. He could picture the notes, or something similar, as the tune moved through the air. Perhaps it felt even loftier, now he knew some of its history, but once Jin was done, he had a smile on his face.] It's almost too pleasant to be a ward. But you're the expert here. [He hummed a few notes himself.] It's quite lovely. Thank you.