![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
( SEMI-OPEN ) may catch-all
Who: Geralt + Various
When: May
Where: Aefenglom; The Wilde
What: Quests, events
Warnings: n/a
[ starters in comments. plot with me at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
discontinued. ]
When: May
Where: Aefenglom; The Wilde
What: Quests, events
Warnings: n/a
[ starters in comments. plot with me at
♞ jaskier
[ It doesn't take long for him to feel that something's wrong with the bond. Nor that Jaskier hasn't quite been himself. He's known the bard long enough. As much as he'd rather not talk about what happened that night, he still needs to see what the fuck might be going on.
He searches for Jaskier in a few places: the tea room, popular taverns, the woods, he even asks the damn cat where he might be. (No answer.)
In the end, he tracks Jaskier down in the Entertainment District. It's...not exactly a brothel, as he knows it, but it's certainly an establishment on similar lines. Eyes turn on him as he enters. Geralt frowns, but ignores everyone as he hones in on Jaskier at one of the tables. His ears twitch, irritated by the excessive music.
He sets an ale down. ] Thirsty?
no subject
Then the Looking Glass. He hadn't thought of the mirror he'd come through in a long time, and had not been back to visit it. There was no reason to when there was simply no going back to his sphere, if he so wanted. The cool glass, and his frame carved up with monsters of all sorts, tangled in long lines of a musical staff, and, of course, dandelions on the corners. He'd forgotten what it looked like, honestly.
And he woke up there, standing in front of it. At first it scared the shit out of him, standing alone in the Looking Glass House, and he felt -- he felt suddenly so empty. Jaskier had scampered back home and tried to ignore that ever happened, simply because he was absolutely not the sort to fall asleep and go walking around like some sort of ghost.
Easy enough to wipe it away as a fluke. Except the next time he went out and needed a light, his magic wouldn't come.
Then: a nightmare. Of the Cwyld.
To Jaskier, the two were connected. Despite the Coven's promises, some part of him still worries the Cwyld lingered in him. To have gotten rid of an infection that had settled so deep -- well, he's far from a healer, but it didn't feel possible. And now, his magic not coming to him when he calls --
Jaskier takes off into the town, not sure where he means to go but finding himself at that club he'd run into Alice at. (A good place to avoid his Bonded.) He isn't even particularly drawn to the idea of watching the dancers, but once he walks in, it's all he can think about. He relaxes in a booth and lets the persistent itching of his head go ignored.
Until a glass is set down in front of him and startles him completely out of his trance.] Ah! Geralt! [He flusters, scrambling to sit up in his seat, as if he's a second away from jettisoning off of it to escape. His heart pounds. It was not an accident he had gone somewhere he didn't think Geralt or Yennefer would step foot in. Not nowadays.
He straightens the hat on his head.] W-what are you doing here? This isn't your usual tavern.
no subject
Not that he can smell that sort of panic or fear on Jaskier at the moment. It's more of a...skittish feeling.
He sits down without invitation. No point in beating around the bush. Jaskier is slippery with the truth when he has a mind to be. ]
Mm. I can't expand my horizons? [ He tips back his own drink. ] You've been distracted of late.
no subject
[It's the sort of thing he should think and not say, but Jaskier's certainly never been that type. A bloody perfect time, actually, when Jaskier is... dealing. With things. He's fine. He doesn't need anyone fawning over him, and certainly not Geralt, because --
Because it meant acknowledging things. One of those being that he was. Wrong.
And the power he'd had, for once in his life, was gone. (As if he'd ever done much with it.)]
You know very well I have a mind that is constantly working. And I've been thinking of new songs. That's all. [Except he's here, shrinking in his seat, and his arms are crossed, and he's not gulping down a free drink.] Oh, you always do this. Are you going to insist you never stick your nose into things? Must we repeat the fox-ear incident?
[Fuck, why did he say that? That only brought attention to. The obvious. That he was once again hiding something on his head.
Which he refuses to acknowledge. In any way.]
no subject
He leans to the side as a woman brushes by wrapped in multiple feathery scarves and not much else. She looks like a half-plucked pigeon. ]
Jaskier. We're fucking bonded. Whatever you're hiding, you can't hide it from that.
[ He's going to find out sooner or later, anyway. He'd rather it be sooner—especially with everything that's been going on lately. ]
no subject
He sighs. Unlike last time, he's thinking a little more than before. He's acutely aware Geralt did not come here to ogle beautiful women.]
My magic's gone. [He mumbles it, barely audible over the music. At least to human ears. Fuck it. If Geralt's got him a drink, then fine. He pulls it close and takes a deep drink.] Forever. So my only hope is that you receive no more truth curses.
no subject
[ The one time Jaskier decides to get tight-lipped about his situation. He rubs his temple. Far be it from him to make his concern for Jaskier so obvious, but his patience as of late has worn thin quickly.
It can't only be that about his magic. The only time he's heard of this is when a Witch has been deliberately stripped of their magic—and he knows for a fact that Jaskier hasn't done anywhere near anything that would get him into that sort of trouble. Besides, he also knows that the loss of one's magic means a loss in the bond. But that's not what he's feeling. It's still there, holding strong. It's only that the hum of the magic linking them is different. Thicker. Like too much pollen in the air. ]
no subject
He takes his hat off, showing the three blue horns that have begun to sprout from his forehead, the hint of his scalp beginning to turn blue.
It was a folly to think he could've kept it from Geralt. He always sticks his nose in the wrong business, when people don't want him there.]
I'm not a witch anymore.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
♞ alice
[ For the most part, things have been quiet for him. Unsteady, but quiet: Ciri seems to be settling in, Jaskier has been finding company, which is a return to form for him, and Yennefer is...
They're working things out.
Geralt hasn't spoken to anyone about what happened that night, in his dream. It's a beast that lurks beneath, as so many things often do when it comes to his past. It's also not one he wants to address. He put it aside a long time ago. That it occasionally (often) haunts his sleep is of no importance.
In an effort to both distract himself and to be somewhere he can slip away unnoticed if need be, Geralt ends up in the fruit-filled gardens. The festivities aren't so damn loud here and there's free drinks on top of that. He'll take it.
He's already tipping back his second glass of wine, in fact, when the night has only shortly begun. It's not the worst way to spend the night: most people are busy enjoying their own time to care about one man lurking under a tree.
Then a plump ripe peach decides to drop off a branch, thumping him on the head. He blinks, cursing under his breath as it rolls beside him. ]
no subject
The festivities that have popped up have caught her interest. The loud and rowdy Aeternae celebration is way too much for her, so she finds herself here in the Dryads' garden, sampling wine and enjoying the peace and beauty.
That is, until she hears a thunk followed by some grumbling. Alice quickly finds the source of the sound, crouching in front of the man who had been unfortunate enough to take a peach to the head.]
Are you all right?
[Alice doesn't recognize who he is despite having heard much and more about him. Jaskier had never really described Geralt beyond personality and temperament. And even if he had, the light is low and she lacks any kind of nightvision to see with much clarity.]
no subject
I might live.
[ There's a small pause as he takes a closer look. Her face isn't familiar, but her scent is. Have they met? No, he'd remember the face if they'd met. It takes him a moment, before he realizes what it is.
Jaskier. When he'd returned to the house that day and noticed they'd had a visitor. Interesting.
He rubs the peach on his shirt before taking a bite. He's curious to know who she is now. ]
Here for the wine?
no subject
Rather, it's the way he looks at her that gives her pause. For a moment, Alice can't help but feel like she's being evaluated by this stranger. Whatever his reasons, it seems that she passes--he continues the conversation.
She shifts her position a bit, sitting across from him in earnest.]
Sort of. [She has a glass of wine in-hand, so the observation isn't really inaccurate.] I'm more here for the hosts and to see the garden. These dryads are so new, and I'd like to learn more about them.
What brings you to this garden party?
no subject
City's gotten loud. Figured I'd keep out of the way.
[ He's been in the middle of a party that's spilled onto the streets before; it's not a good time and someone's always prone to a brawl when the ale flows too heavily. The garden suits him just fine.
Usually, he doesn't bother with introductions, but knowing Jaskier, he suspects his name's been brought up. Or if it hasn't, that would be telling, too. He offers his hand to see. ]
Geralt of Rivia.
no subject
The Diasteran Aeternae certainly are a lot, aren't they? I prefer the quiet, too.
[Her eyes widen a little in recognition when he offers his name. So this is the Witcher she's heard so much about. He doesn't look like she had imagined him, but in fairness it's not like Jaskier gave her much (or especially balanced) information to go on in that regard. And it's not as if he looks so differently as to entirely defy her expectations aside from the hair. She's never seen anyone with hair so similarly pale to her own.
It takes a second, but she collects herself and takes the offered hand, shaking it.]
Alice. Alice Elliot.
[She had expected their first meeting to be brokered by Jaskier, carefully planned and likely with a stern warning for everyone to be on their best behavior. As unprepared as she feels, however, meeting Geralt this way is probably for the better. At the very least, they can't be chattered over by a nervous bard.]
It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you. From Jaskier, I mean. Good things. [Mostly.]
Jaskier and I are... [Well, honestly, she has no idea. They're far more than friends, at this point, but she's not sure if "lovers" is any more accurate. The feelings are there but the situation is a bit more complicated, not least of all by her relationships with Yuri and Karin. So instead, she errs on the side of caution and eschews labels entirely.] We've grown very close these past few months.
no subject
He's mentioned. [ He can see why Jaskier has taken to her. She's refined, soft-spoken—nobility of some kind, he suspects, with the same violet eyes as Yennefer's. It's not the first time he's seen that shade on someone here, but it strikes him every time. ]
He says you've been helping him, after the Circle.
[ Comfort is not exactly in his skillset; he's felt far out of his depth about all of this, between keeping a close eye on the bard and struggling to keep his own turbulent past from spilling through their bond. As much as he's never said it out loud and never will, he's grateful Jaskier can find it in someone else. ]
no subject
She nods in response to Geralt's statement, confirming it.]
I have. Even before I really realized it, to be honest. I saw him at the initiation, and I... wasn't really myself. But I brought him food, and in turn he told me things that I needed to hear.
[Namely, he made it inescapably clear how horrible the whole situation was. It was the first jolt to her system of many that night, and she credits him for starting the process of getting herself back.]
Since then, I've just wanted to see him happy. He doesn't deserve to suffer like he has.
[There's a whole host of things she can also say--how she saw some older version of herself in him in those days just after the Circle, lost and in desperate need of help. How she had originally wanted to pay kindness paid to her forward. How that sympathy and empathy have blossomed and matured into so much more over time, and how her heart swells with pride every time she sees improvement. How much she cares.
But saying all of that requires much more vulnerability than she's willing to show, presently. Geralt is for all purposes a stranger, despite their connection through Jaskier.]
He's told me that you've done what you can for him, too. I met the kitten you got him. She's very cute.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
♞ zack
first full moon
And now his chances were gone. Taken. All that fucking work, that education, and he was back to square one.
Now he had to tell... people. And try not to surprise them. With a budding relationship with Alice, no less, he'd have to -- well, her Bonded was a Monster, too, wasn't she? Would she recoil from this? There was no missing the horns growing from his head. They were quite prominent, and even worse, the closer to the full moon, the brighter they grew.
The bigger.
As much as he would like to avoid further discussion about this and take care of it himself, it wasn't realistic. Geralt had been through this several months already. He knew what to expect. Even if they were the same... species. Fucking bizarre.
It was a bit of a cowardly thing to do, but. He pokes at the watch, sending Geralt a message. If you have time, come by my room. I'd prefer company.
No offense, Yennefer. He did not want to transform into whatever hideous beast he may become near her, lest she comment every little thing that came to mind immediately. And Ciri was -- well, they were still working out what her place was here.
He tries to sit on his bed and appear totally calm, but he can't sit still. This energy buzzes inside him, the closer they inch to the full, bright moon, and it grows larger and larger, rolling into a sparking, heated ball in his chest. (He ignores his nails sharpening. Ignores the tint of his skin fading from a human pink to something -- something blue.)]
no subject
He shows up at Jaskier's door at dusk, already taking his shifted form. Now that he's learned to control it, he's found it easier to change before nightfall instead of waiting for the moon to overcome him and force it. Unlike his usual form, though, he's noticeably larger, his fur thicker. He only just fits through Jaskier's bedroom door.
His eyes settle on his friend. The change is jarring. It's different for himself. He hadn't exactly been human in the first place. Jaskier has never been anything but. Now he's...
Geralt sits by the doorway. Nothing they can do but handle what's coming. ]
Bringing your lute?
no subject
And... he can no longer be the fox he'd once been, either. If it weren't for the burning in his chest, he could feel the weight of that loss.
With his mirror turned away, Jaskier hasn't yet noticed his pupils have gone, the whole of his eye a bright blue.] Geralt. Er. Hi.
[At least he can hang onto the idea Geralt won't comment on his looks. Probably. But it isn't only his looks he worries over. Considering his best friend almost devoured him his first full moon, he's -- what if he is the same way? If he hurts someone?]
I'm not sure I'll need it. [He offers his hands to show his nails sharpened into claws. Talons, really. Curved, wicked looking things.] And I may cut the strings.
[He hesitates.] How bad is it so far? Really?
no subject
Awful. Your complexion doesn't suit your waistcoat.
[ He pads up to Jaskier. Despite his dry response, there's a softened edge to his words that isn't usually present. But he's not the sort to offer empty platitudes, either. The transformation is shit. Even when it goes as well as it can, it's shit. He also knows Jaskier will make it through. He's here to make sure of that.
Besides. Since Jaskier told him the truth, he found a handful of Aeternae to speak to. He's learned enough to know it'll help to take Jaskier into the city rather than the woods. ]
I'm told a few drinks should take the edge off.
no subject
[Clearly it's the moon making him a little extra upset, or that he's sitting here feeling this -- this force, this power, rolling through him. It's not like magic, not at all. It's more like a wave flooding his veins, seeking an exit. It isn't like the puppy-ish attention of magic, which whips around waiting to be used.
(He misses it. It's gone now.)]
Sorry. It's a lot. [He rubs Geralt's head because he can get away with it, and Turnskin or not, his wolf form is quite adorable.] I suppose there isn't much a few drinks can't help with. Well. [He sighs.] Wait, who told you that?
no subject
(It feels good. But that's not the damn point.) ]
People. [ He puts his paws on the windowsill to look outside. The sinking sun casts an orange glow over their garden. ] Aeternae like to talk.
[ Himself, a wolf; Ciri, a lioness. Now Jaskier, an Aeternae. Fitting. It could be worse. Jaskier likely wouldn't have faired well as a Turnskin, driven by a desire to hunt and run wild. As a creature drawn to indulgences, though, well. It isn't far from the bard's usual disposition. ]
no subject
All at once, he laughs.]
They like to talk! I can only imagine you think this suits me terribly, too. [He rubs his arm, the skin unfamiliar to him with its blue tint. Has his blood turned a different color, too? He's not so curious he would even pick at it to see. (Yet.)] A talkative, fun-loving folk. With a penchant for drink.
[He stands, no longer able to deal quietly with the energy thrumming inside him. His palms are wet, his skin prickly hot, despite the icy countenance.] Did they say if it hurts?
no subject
Besides, Ciri needs someone. Yen will be good with her. ]
Not for most. [ He circles back around to Jaskier. ] If you're worried you'll end up like me, my case was unusual even amongst other Turnskins.
[ He'd met few others—almost none—who experienced a shift as violent as his. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)