middaeg | [ OPEN ] call her briar long enough

Entry tags:

[ OPEN ] call her briar long enough

Who: Ciri & OPEN
When: throughout May
Where: Aefenglom, the Wilde
What: Quests, partying, hanging out, whatever. it's Ciri's birthday month! 4th wall guests welcome!
Warnings: drinking

i. a summer celebration

new

probably

ii. a nose by any other name

[ Free perfume samples? Why not! Ciri's grabbed a couple, trying them on throughout the month to several unexpected effects. She could be passing by on a shopping trip, grabbing some groceries or admiring some jewelry in the Shopping District. Leaning in close, she murmurs a "pardon me" and the breeze wafts a soft scent toward anyone standing beside her.

Maybe she suddenly looks extra-pretty, or maybe you just want to blurt out random truths. Maybe there's a sudden heat in the air, literal or figurative, kindling desire for friendship, further conversation, even more. Maybe she just smells great and would appreciate the compliment. The world is your oyster. ]

iii. horse girl (tm)

iv. lion cub of cintra, literally

[ So that's why her head's been itchy and achey lately... ugh. How embarrassing. Her teeth have already grown sharper, and her eyes even more catlike than before. Her fingers ache too, a burning, tingling and unpleasant sensation that's even worse than the headaches. She can't reliably hold her sword like this, and even carrying things or riding is an exercise in patience, which she's always been a touch short on.

The fuzzy little ears now poking out from the sides of her ashen grey hair add insult to injury. She might even feel bad for all the times she's teased Geralt about his or tried to pull on his tail. ]

Excuse me

[ Ciri snaps sharply upon catching someone staring (or at least she thinks they're staring; they might have just been passing by on the street, minding their own business). Her nose wrinkles, scrunching up in an annoyed frown like she smelled something bad, and she tips her chin up haughtily as if that might make the little lion ears less adorable. Or just harder to see. ]

(( ooc: Wildcard always available! hmu at gunsandchocolate @ plurk to plot or send a PM. prose or brackets okay, pick your poison and I'll match you! for the scentsational quest prompt, feel free to come up with any effect you want to play with or even a mix of them. ))

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[Rain or not, there's plenty for Alice to celebrate this Boaltinn, personally and as a citizen of this world as a whole. Alice spent the first two days of the celebration inside, avoiding the elements, but she's decided that it's now or never on this last night.

So here she is, late into the night and disheveled from the rain and humidity and festivities, having a seat next to a woman she doesn't know and joining in the conspiratorial tone of her reveal. Alice's eyes widen as she sips daintily from the mug she holds with both hands.

It's a slightly comical sight, and it's clear that she's not exactly one who's familiar with this sort of thing.

As she finishes her sip, she smiles broadly.]

Happy birthday! I think this a festival like this is a wonderful way to spend it.

Thank you!

[ Ciri beams back, raising her cup in a toast and energetically pushing it toward Alice in an attempt to clink their mugs together. Hopefully not while Alice is sipping at the same time. ]

Imagine my surprise when I found out there's a Belleteyn festival here too. Always a good excuse to indulge, and I've got double.

[ Some people might be annoyed at their birthday falling on a holiday, but it doesn't bother Ciri. She might forget entirely to celebrate it, otherwise. It's a good reminder-- or something of the sort. She's too drunk to think about it too long, but maybe that was the goal all along. ]

Come! [ Ciri slings an arm over her new drinking companion's shoulders. ]

You won't get anywhere taking little mouse sips like that. The locals tell me you have to be good and sloshed before you jump the flames.

[ She may have misunderstood, or the locals in question were bending the truth a little, but... ah, well. Details. ]

[Mouse sips or not, Alice has done a decent job getting drunk so far. Although she's not exactly the type to hold her booze well, so that isn't saying too much. In any case, the new companion is appreciated. She even manages to clumsily clink cups with her without too much trouble.]

We have a celebration like this back home, too. We call it May Day. But there's a lot less fire.

[That fact is true of many festivals that she can tie back to what she knows back home. The bonfires are a very Aefenglom touch. And honestly, with the lousy weather it's a touch she's glad for.

The arm around her shoulders causes Alice to laugh a bit, joyfully. She's made a new friend, at least for the night. The laughter continues even as she adamantly rejects the suggestion she's been given.]

Oh, you don't mean for me to...? No. No, no, no, no. I can't jump the flames! I'm not that strong!

[Alice does, however, take a much longer drink of her ale.]

Nonsense! That's what the ale is for. And the runic charms. Here, I've got one.

[ Ciri pushes the smooth, engraved stone into her new friend's hands with a beaming smile. ]

They say it's to burn away the bad to make way for the new. Something about new relationships? I'm not sure if it's just relationships or everything else, though.

But either way, it's probably good luck!

[Alice tries to push the charm back to the other woman but ultimately finds herself in possession of it anyway. It's a pretty stone, at least. And good luck, apparently?]

New relationships? I have those.

[She met so many new people down in the Underground, and has reaffirmed her relationship with Geargadas itself in the cleansing of the Cwyldheart. And there are also new romances. Two of them, somehow, although she's still figuring out how that's all supposed to work out.

Maybe she should jump through that fire. Commit to what's already been set into motion and embrace the person this world is making her out to be. She's certainly not unhappy with all of it, so there's really no reason not to.

(Or maybe it just sounds like a good idea thanks to the ale and encouragement.)]

"Good and sloshed," you said?

[She looks into her mug of ale, then back to her drinking companion.]

Bottoms up.

[Alice tries to chug the whole thing, but she's only able to drink about half before she has to come up for air. She's not made for this.]

Have you, now? Good for you!

[ Ciri laughs, taking a swig of her own ale. When she looks up, the other woman is still drinking.

Ciri watches, eyebrows raised, for a few more seconds before her new friend finally comes up for air, gasping like a fish on land. Ciri bursts out laughing, reaches out, and gives her companion a hearty slap on the back to make sure she's not choking. ]

I never said don't breathe! I do admire your enthusiasm though. Very well done.

Catch your breath, and we'll have another go. On the count of three--

[ She grabs the nearby bottle, sloshing some more into each of their mugs until they're mostly-full again, albeit a bit foamy. ]

If you finish first, I'll jump too. Won't even use the charm.

[The clap on her back launches Alice forward a bit and makes her cough a few times, but she appreciates the gesture nonetheless. She gives the other woman a sheepish, somewhat hopeless look.]

Thank you? I think. I admit, I usually don't... indulge like this.

[It was never considered appropriate for her to, back home. Alice is a well-raised young woman, and the daughter of a priest, so there were expectations of propriety. It's strange, how much of that has unraveled in the past several months. She's always been open-minded about the behaviors of others, but it's something else entirely to allow herself to do it.

Not that tonight is for that kind of deep introspection. She has a freshly-refilled mug and the world is swimming ever so slightly as she sits next to a woman who is rapidly becoming her best friend for the night. That's more important, in this moment.]

I'll take the wager, but you have to use the charm. Promise me you'll use the charm. You'll catch fire, and I don't know the... [She waves her hand in an approximation of some kind of spellcasting as she searches her addled mind for the word. Coming up blank, she settles for a simpler way of putting it.] I don't know the watery spells to put you out.

I bet I don't need it, but for you, I suppose I can go along with such an earnest request.

[ Ciri giggles, wiping her mouth off on her sleeve before taking another drink. She might've been expected to behave appropriately too, once upon a time, but she's been setting her own rules for some time now. ]

The watery spells? Well, clearly not, if that's what you think they're called!

[ She's no Witch, but that's probably not right... ]

What kind of spells do you know, Miss Worry-wart Witch?

[Alice sighs with relief and takes a drink from her own mug when the other woman agrees to use the charm. Whether or not she can jump the fire safely without it doesn't matter--Alice would rather not take the chance. Although the way she addresses her causes her a moment of befuddlement.]

Miss...? [Oh right, they haven't exchanged names yet.] Alice. Please, call me Alice.

Back home I have what's called Demon Eyes, which is just a needlessly scary way of saying my magic deals with the soul and the supernatural. [Why is that relevant? Who knows.] Here, I do abjuration and divination. Healing and... and seeing into things. It's what's familiar.

[Being without her innate ability to sense the aura of things has been the biggest adjustment in her time here, but she's mostly been able to compensate with her studies.]

No water in either case. So thank you for using the charm.

[She pauses to take another drink, determined to at least make a good attempt at winning their contest.]

Are you a witch as well?

Alice! [ she repeats, smiling widely. ] I'm Ciri.

[ She has no idea what a demon is, honestly, so the tidbit about it being needlessly scary kind of goes over her head, but she appreciates the context. Ciri nods along with interest, drinking all the while. She's not chugging it as fast as she might if this were a real context; it seems unfair to the poor girl. Might as well let her take her time and catch up a little. ]

I know what divination is! [ Ciri laughs. ] Seeing into things is such a funny way of putting it.

No, no. I'm no Witch. Apparently. I'm not quite sure what I am yet, but I'm told if I have no magic, it means I'll turn into... some other species. Of Monster.

[ The name is a little off-putting, but Ciri understands that's just what they're called in this world, so she hasn't protested. It does help that Geralt is one. She's not nearly so nervous about it knowing that... and the booze is probably also helping. ]

Nice to meet you, Ciri. That's a really nice name.

[Unlike Ciri, Alice is drinking whole-heartedly to try and win this contest of theirs, so she listens intently as her new friend speaks. She's pretty sure the laughter is at least a little at her expense, but it's fine. It's friendly, at least, and Alice is no stranger to it.

And then, with the rest of it, she puts two and two together.]

Oh, you're new. [That's the only explanation for a Monster to be sitting here, human as Ciri looks.] Welcome to Aefenglom. I hope your transformations go well.

[Alice reaches over and places a hand Ciri's shoulder, smiling warmly.]

I'm sure whatever Monster you are will be amazing.

[...blame the alcohol for that one. That, and Alice's general affinity toward the monstrous.]

[ For the record, Reno has absolutely been staring. Assessing. Didn't expect to get caught on it, and the sheer surprise makes his feather fluff up a bit. (Just a bit!) He doesn't miss a beat with delivering the reply, arms(wings) thrown wide in a shrug ]

Kittens are always funny, right? Little bundles of joy— [ He offers a toothy grin, all his teeth sharp. Monstrous. Followed by a gesture of putting a hand into a cat paw ] —and claws.

[ She's someone experiencing early bouts of changes, alright. That doesn't come up very often these days ]

[ Ciri scoffs aloud. She doesn't have a tail yet, but if she had, it might've been bristling. Instead, her lip curls slightly, just enough to show her sharp teeth. ]

I am not a kitten, you rude pigeon. Mind your manners.

[ Reno cants his head and squints at her, somehow expressing annoyance and humour all at once. Manners never had been his strong suit, on purpose, by upgringing, who cares— so he doesn't even bother addressing that. Instead... ]

No shit, then what are you? A tiger? A lion? Cats all of them— and you're still a work in progress, kitten.

[ That. That is the interesting part. ]

When did the mirror spew you out?

[ Ciri stares at him a moment, not sure if she should be angry or impressed by the sheer gall of some random stranger accosting her like this over her stupid ears. They're already bad enough by themselves. She settles on angry, standing up taller and crossing her arms under her chest with a haughty sniff. ]

That entitled attitude come with being here long enough to grow wings? Or did you bring that with you from whatever place is surely weeping to have lost a charmer of your caliber?

[ Reno's reaction is to laugh, cackle in fact. As if he was satisfied with the answer received; like a kid yanking metaphorical ponytail. Very mature. ]

No, no, that's all me, perfect in every aspect. Wings got nothing to do with [ He waves his arm, once, twice— letting the wingspread its feathers. An idle demonstration ] I'd rather fly a bird than be one, but we gotta play the cards we got.

[ Ciri guessed correctly, he's as much Mirrorbound as she is ]

[Ignis is almost sure, the moment he's verbally accosted, that he wasn't actually looking at her at all. He glances her way, his slit pupils shifting as he quickly looks her up and down, and his mild irritation at being spoken to in such a way shows painfully clearly in the way that a hissing, rattling sound starts up from the rattle positioned at the end of his tail.]

Should I?

[Was she doing something funny? He hears the rattling then - still getting used to the fact that he is actually the one making that noise - and grimaces slightly.]

I can't... control that. My apologies. Is something the matter?

[ That rattling noise spooks her; Ciri tenses visibly, her hand twitching but not quite reaching for her sword in any obvious way. She can't control her ears though; they flatten back against her hair in alarm. It takes her a moment to pinpoint the sound, and a moment longer to relax.

She's still getting used to the different types of people who live here. ]

N-nothing.

[ Silly of her to have gotten worked up over a passing glance. ]

I'm... a newcomer here. Still getting my bearings. My mistake.

[He's finding that he gets that reaction a lot. It's more than enough for him to stop doing it, as actively frightening people prods a particularly tender part of him.]

I've been here less than a year, myself.

[And... he understands. That is, how a passing glance - even an imagined one - can make you feel suddenly targeted.]

Allow me to introduce myself, and apologise again. Ignis Scientia.

[ So he's another of the so-called Mirrorbound. Ciri offers a nod, a greeting and a gesture accepting his apology at once. ]

Ciri.

[ She can't help it; her gaze falls to his tail again, even if it's stopped rattling. ]

Hope you don't mind me asking. How quickly did the change affect you?

Trying to figure out what I should expect.

Ah... it took six months or so. This was the most recent. [He lightly taps his hip to illustrate, indicating the large tail now making up the lower portion of his body. The rattle had been an unexpected (and entirely unwanted) addition that serves to make it all too clear when something irritates him.

He can calm it to some extent, which is why it's not rattling now... but he can't control it entirely.]

But you shouldn't take me as an example. [They don't look to be the same kind of monster, after all...]

Not a strict one, in any case.

[Things had certainly been looking up as of late, nightmares aside. (His own, mostly.) He always imagined being plenty busy with Burza, but she does help. He never wakes up alone anymore, her little eyes always there to glow even in the faint light of his room.

So he was well enough now to go to something like this. And, honestly, Jaskier was tired of having life pass him by. This was a once-a-year celebration, and it called to his bardic heart. It was --

Well. Wet. But still beautiful. And he certainly plans on getting himself a drink or three. He spots a familiar head of pale hair, and he's about to call Ciri's name when he pauses, listening in.

Wait. What? Her birthday? It's not as if he was there at conception, but he -- oh, fuck. Did she tell them? Any of them? Namedays were always cause for celebration! Jaskier ducks away before she could turn and spot him, ducking into a shop to look for... well, for something.

Ah!

He buys a pretty green ring, moving to a quiet spot to focus his magic. He's been a bit hesitant to pull on it, but this is certainly an emergency. And with his practice on Geralt's amulet, something he should be able to do.

Magic swirled around the ring. Ah. There. He wasn't sure if she was a jewelry sort of girl, but --

He tucks it into a box, heading back to the festivities. He takes a seat on Ciri's opposite side, laying his legs out in front, the air warm by the fire.] Well, my favorite princess. How have you been?

[He smiles, holding out the small box. With his magic, a little gold lion centers in the green stone of the ring, flicking its tail.] A joyous birthday to you, Ciri.

Hello, Jaskier. [ Ciri greets him with a warm smile, rosy-cheeked from the wind and the booze. Her eyes light up in surprise and delight when he hands her a box -- a gift. She's pretty sure she hadn't told anyone, but she's also... pretty drunk, too. It's not a secret; she just hadn't known how. Jaskier's taken care of that on his own, somehow. ]

Oh! [ Ciri exclaims as she takes the little box from him and pulls it open. A girlish gasp escapes her when she peers closer at the ring inside. ]

It moves!

[ It's a bit on the nose, but she'll forgive him for it. The sentiment is sweet. ]

What a lovely piece, thank you.

[Ahh, someone has a touch of ale in them. Not that Jaskier has any reservations about it! If anything, he thinks most of the people he knows could do with a good bit more of drinking to loosen up (himself included at this point, honestly.)]

You like it? [He grins, but the question is genuine. It's one of few attempts he's used his magic to create something for someone else, and Geralt certainly is no jewelry connoisseur.

It's very on the nose. But he's still learning about her. It's only fair the Lion Cub of Cintra has a small piece of home still.]

I wasn't sure if you were the ring sort, so hopefully it doesn't get in the way of, ah, any monster slaying and whatnot. [Sword swinging. All of that.] Now, I cannot believe all of Aefenglom set this up just to celebrate your birthday. [He elbows her gently.] As a gentleman, I'll have to pick up the tab for your next drink.

I do.

[ She's not wearing her gloves right now, so she slides the ring onto her middle finger on the left hand, stretching out her arm to admire it in the glow of the bonfire. It fits surprisingly well (magic, or just luck?) as she turns her hand one way and then another to catch the firelight. ]

A woman can like jewelry and swords, you know. They're hardly mutually exclusive.

[ His quip makes her laugh. She leans in to bump her shoulder against his when he elbows her, nudging him over playfully. The offer elicits some surprise, a widening of her green eyes. ]

Are they even charging for the drinks? I've just been taking them!

[ Oops? ]

[ The weather might be shit, but it's ironically the reason why Geralt has decided to glimpse the festival. One of the reasons. The other is that he's been counting and he's pretty damn sure they're drawing upon Cirilla's name day. The precise day he can't say, but he's certain it's around now.

Thing is, he doesn't know what to bring her, if anything. He doesn't celebrate births. He grew up in Kaer Morhen, where it's lucky if a Witcher even knows his precise age, never mind the date and month one was born. Besides, who wants to celebrate the day they were left on a mountainside?

In the end, he pulls a couple favours and gets a carpenter in the city to craft a tack trunk out of polished mahogany. It's something she needs, birthday or no. He can give it to her without...fanfare. Or rather, he leaves it in Eirlys' stall for Ciri to find when she's home later.

Then he goes to look for her. He's right to search the bonfires, where it's warm and there's plenty to drink. Geralt manages to grab a full jug—either because no one's looking or no one wants to be the one to stop him—and joins Ciri on the grass. If he catches wind of what she's saying from a distance, he doesn't mention it. ]

Enjoyed the sunshine today?

[ Whoever she was making drunken overtures at a moment ago is utterly forgotten in a flash. Ciri looks up at the familiar voice, beaming. ]

Geralt!

[ Immediately, she scoots closer, bringing her mug along. It'll be empty again very soon, and Geralt's got something to refill it. ]

Ha! For what little there was, I should have savored it more. Good thing the Belleteyn traditions here involve so much fire, or it'd have been an even soggier affair.

What did you bring us to drink?

[ Her cheerful greeting is a welcome sight. Geralt knows he's been avoiding the topic of that dream she'd been witnessed to—but truthfully, he's not certain what to say. It's only a memory. One they're all privy to now, and there's not much he can do about that. He'd rather drink.

Speaking of. Hm. He actually hadn't bothered to look at what he'd taken. He sniffs the jug. ]

Mulberry wine. [ Geralt fills her mug before doing the same to his own. He sets the jug to the side as the fire crackles, readjusting so that his tail is close to the flames. There's nothing he hates more than a soggy tail. It drips everywhere and someone invariably tells him he smells like a wet dog. ] Looks like I've some catching up to do.

Sounds delicious.

[ Ciri holds out her mug to be filled, but waits until Geralt has his as well before lifting it in a small toast. ]

You certainly do. I believe in you.

[ She inclines her cup. ]

What shall we toast to?

[ Geralt cocks his head. There's a second where he thinks about it before tipping his mug towards her. ]

Your day, isn't it? To another year?

[ Here or elsewhere. He hasn't given thought to what might be awaiting back home—if there is any home back home for any of them at this point. Seems pointless to be mired in what-ifs when there are enough problems to solve in the present. ]

[ A flicker of surprise crosses Ciri's face; she clearly hadn't realized he knew, and doesn't know how he knew (having already mostly-forgotten she was telling half the party earlier). But she doesn't question it, not when the simple acknowledgement makes her feel suddenly so warm inside in a way that has nothing to do with the wine.

Ciri smiles, nudging the rim of her mug against Geralt's until it makes a satisfying clink of some sort, even if it takes two tries. ]

You're right. My day, and I wish to be greedy. To another year, and then many, many more after that.

[ And she'll take a few healthy swigs for good fortune after said wish, just in case not drinking it all impairs the desired results in some way. ]

[ His eyebrow lifts when her mug misses the first time. Geralt lines his up with hers for the second try and watches her down it in healthy gulps. One might say she sure as hell doesn't drink like a princess; Geralt knows better. He's met Calanthe.

Since it is her name day, he opts not to bring up the entire...nightmare situation. It's a good excuse to sidestep it for the time being.

Instead, he flags down a faun passing by with what looks like leaf-wrapped pastries. Whatever they are, they smell sweet—bit like yams and molasses. He drops a couple of coins and passes one to Ciri. ]

At least there's no shortage of food here.

That's true--

Oh! Thank you!

[ Ciri looks startled when the sweet leaf-wrapped bun -- or whatever it is -- appears in her hand. She immediately takes a bite, then gasps, mouth open to let out the steam when she discovers that the filling inside the pastry is still piping hot. ]

I-it's good. Try some!

[ Pushing the pastry back at Geralt, Ciri covers her open mouth with her other hand, trying to chew it between letting it cool and giggling all at once. ]

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[ OPEN ] call her briar long enough

ii.c. white-haired girl drunk

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