[noctium] ic inbox

[thestoryisthis]

« Julian » TEXT ✧ AUDIO ✧ VIDEO ✧ ACTION Jaskier ✦ The Witcher (Netflix)
RESIDENCE ✦ Solstice Estates
GEMBOND ✦ Ruby
"Do I just - I just talk into it? Introduce myself? Hi, I'm Julian -"

PERMISSIONS ✧ KINKLIST ✧ EXTRA

Comments

morning after night of the siren~ | text | un: unsaphir

[semicharmed]

[ Okay, Matt has new shoes and is en route to retrieve breakfast for him and Ryan. His thoughts are moving, and now that he's not in Hide His Disasters From Ryan mode, he realizes he should probably check in with some of the people he ran into last night.

Specifically, Jaskier. Well, and probably Simon? But Jaskier first. ]

Hey, it's Matt. Really sorry about last night--I assume you guys got out okay?

[thestoryisthis]

[The message goes unread for like four hours, then:]

I would apologize for Geralt, but that's not my job here.

[And after a moment:]

By the by, what is a "rain check"?

[semicharmed]

Definitely not your job. 💖

[ In response to that question, there's a moment of typing. ]

a rain check means

like if you intend to do something and have to reschedule

so I was asking if we could reschedule

[ He wouldn't blame Jaskier if he didn't feel like it just now, given the givens? But the fact remains that he did ask to reschedule sex. ]

[thestoryisthis]

Are you actually better now? You weren't when you left.

[Jaskier got distracted by Geralt, because you put Geralt in front of him and he has absolutely no braincells, but now his worry about Matt is back and!! He can't believe Matt just ran off like that, half healed!! What kind of stupid—oh nevermind. That's just his type: people who care a lot about other people and almost none about themselves.]

Also I have your shirt, but it's a bit of a lost cause.

[semicharmed]

Oh, yes I'm better, I

[ Hm, okay, he's definitely doing better, but that freshly healed gash still hurts when he moves too quickly. Plus, he's pretty sure the only reason he feels as good as he does this morning is because of Simon, and maybe that's not a good look?

Or maybe the sooner Jaskier learns he's a huge slut, the better. ]

ran into a friend and we were able to sync a little bit.

God I bet that thing's a mess. It's okay, I'll get another one. Thank you for hanging onto it though.

[action]

[gwynbleids]

[It has been at least a few, full days since Geralt's last encounter with Jaskier. His temper has cooled off. It cooled off almost as soon as he shut the door, but pride stopped him from going back to try talk again. Pride and the fact that Jaskier wanted him to go away and he felt the weight of that.

So far, what he assumed would be a simple transition from friends to friends who indulge in occasional, intimate activities together has been tumultuous at best. He is self-aware enough to know that he's doing something wrong, but not enough to know exactly what it is.

His thought process is as follows: he hasn't seen Jaskier>Jaskier may not want to see him>he doesn't know if Jaskier is alright>the only way to know that is to see Jaskier.

This cycle repeats until he comes to the obvious conclusion that he needs to see Jaskier with his own eyes and decide if he's okay. He comes to this conclusion late in the evening and finds himself unwilling to wait until the following day to endure an awkward conversation about his intentions.

Thus, the next obvious conclusion is that he sees Jaskier without Jaskier seeing him. He allows little time to question his thinking and opts to visit Jaskier's home, prise open a window and pad quietly through his home in the dark until he makes his way to his room. There's a vague concern that he might not be alone and for some reason he feels troubled by that.

Now, of all times, he takes a moment to consider whether this is a good idea.

It's fine.

He doesn't hear stirring from within the room so he enters. His intent was merely to lay eyes on Jaskier and leave if he looked fine. He looks fine, but he doesn't leave. He feels he needs to be even more certain and so he crosses the room to stand over him in his bed. Again, he looks perfectly fine. He's deeply asleep with a soft expression that looks untroubled by debilitating physical or mental injury.

His hair does just slightly obscure his forehead and as Geralt is already here, he supposes he might as well be thorough. His fingers brush gently over Jaskier's face, brushing aside the locks of hair. They linger longer than is necessary, but he doesn't hurry to pull them back.]

[thestoryisthis]

[In the time since he kicked Geralt out of the room, Jaskier has realized that he was maybe a quarter angry about how Geralt treated Matt and mostly angry at how Geralt treats him. Fortunately for Geralt, Jaskier's too sleepy to remember any of that when he stirs at Geralt's touch.]

Oh, you're back. [The words are half mumbled, sleep soft.] Did you get it?

[He is deeply not awake enough to realize where they are. Geralt looking down at him while he's half asleep just triggers an automatic response from Jaskier: welcome Geralt back from a hunt. He yawns, moving over on the bed to make space for Geralt before unceremoniously going the fuck back to sleep.]

[gwynbleids]

[Geralt's hand retracts as if he's touched a hot stove when Jaskier stirs. His brows furrow at his words.

He opens his mouth to ask a clarifying question and then hesitates as he realises what's happening here.]

Yes.

[He says, firmly.

He hesitates again at the space Jaskier creates for him before he decides to take the invitation. He sits on the edge and kicks off his boots, scooting so he's lying back on the bed next to Jaskier.

It just feels right.

When it becomes clear that he has immediately fallen asleep, it tickles Geralt. There's a brief concern for the fact that he hasn't noticed someone has entered his room, overshadow by the fact that Jaskier feels so safe around him that it doesn't worry him.

He rolls to face Jaskier, staring at the back of his head for a long moment before he finds it unsatisfying enough to do something. He puts a hand on his shoulder and slowly rolls him back so that he's face up, over his arm with his head softly bumping Geralt's shoulder. It's positioned as such that he could very well have rolled into it in his sleep.

He's not sure what he wants next, other than the fact that he feels strangely content where he is.]

[thestoryisthis]

[If someone other than Geralt broke into his house, well. Okay. Realistically, he wouldn't be too much more coherent but he would have probably sensed some amount of danger. He works with the Rendanian Secret Service, occasionally, but at the same time there's a deeply ingrained part of Jaskier that interprets Geralt as safe.

Geralt still high on potions with black eyes? Safe. Geralt turns into a horse that could drown him? Safe.

It's why the first thing he did, when he woke up and found himself alone on the mountain, was check if Geralt was nearby. Geralt not being nearby meant it wasn't safe. That being said, Jaskier makes a slightly disgruntled noise when Geralt moves him, but settles quickly into the new position. He mumbles something that's not even remotely coherent, head turning to nuzzle Geralt's shoulder slightly.]

slides in here late!! the tail-end of the event, perhaps?

[ardencies]

[On the way to a new landscape, a new area for the Gembonded to explore, Dettlaff had been a silent and dreary sort on the train ride over, planted next to the window and gazing out of it — a clear indication of not wanting company else he already know the face, and that was already such a limited assortment of people that he might as well be saying he wanted to speak to no one at all. It had worked, then. By way of ignoring the goings-on around him, Dettlaff had made his way to Primavera without undue issue, more or less peaceably left to his own devices.

On the way back to the city, the return trip as it were, Dettlaff is attempting the same. Though this time he wears the evidence of his trip — a bright blossoming flower stuck somewhere in the lapels of his coat, the dusting of pollen in dark hair, plus a stray petal or two from being endlessly accosted by flower crowns — but the intent hasn't changed. He does not wish to speak to anyone; he intends to be left alone.

The empty seat next to him then, so very, very needing a butt to park itself there, might prove to be an unavoidable temptation to fellows who consider themselves more outgoing than not. But really, surely fate would not be so cruel as to beckon someone in his direction……]

sounds good to me!!

[thestoryisthis]

[Paradoxically, when Jaskier is upset he tends to channel the energy outward. Everything between him and Geralt has gone to absolute shit, and he can't channel it in any other way than being overly friendly. So, when he spots someone he nominally recognizes with a free seat next to him, he sits down.]

Hello. Glad to heading home?

[He looks over expectantly, waiting for an answer. It doesn't even have to be a long one: Jaskier is perfectly capable of carrying an entire conversation by himself if he needs to. He hangs out with Geralt, he has a lot of practice having a conversation with unwilling conversational partners.]

c:

[ardencies]

[There’s tension in Dettlaff’s shoulders as he registers the sensation of someone sitting in the empty seat next to him, those faint vibrations now heralding that he may have to entertain the idea of company and idle chatter. And this stiffness in his demeanor barely subsides (but it does — remotely) when he turns his head to see a vaguely familiar face.

The man with the scarf. The one who found the most roundabout way to “save” him from a vendor’s attentions.]

It isn’t home.

[Comes the retort, not necessarily needle-sharp, but quick enough for it to be an easy answer. Dettlaff shifts in his seat, an elbow placed upon the faintly notched space the window allows.]

But I prefer the city in which we live. The flowers were abundant in Primavera, but the locals too enthusiastic.

[And there was that whole issue with people drowning. That’s probably bad, right?]

[thestoryisthis]

Is home not what you make of it, in the end? Historically when the world is reborn, there's very little chance of going back to where you came from. I'm not sure the rules are so different here than where I've already been.

[Geralt seems to think they'll be headed home at some point, presumably soon. Jaskier's not so sure. He studied the history of the Continent and what's happened once might always happen again. The net this time seems to be wider, but that's just details. The Conjunction of the Spheres happened once. What was preventing it from happening again, really?]

Well. Aside from the obvious.

[He gestures to the very visible ruby set in his throat.]

text, un: solntse

[solmate]

I need to cash in on that embarrassing song.
Or even just a couplet.

[thestoryisthis]

I can do much better than a couplet if you give me more to work with than "embarrassing."

[solmate]

Honestly, I'm not sure Nikolai has a sense of shame so embarrassing might be a bit of a fool's errand anyway.

[thestoryisthis]

Well, that sounds like a challenge. How about I buy you a drink and you can tell me more about him? Or at least why, exactly, you need an embarrassing couplet about this man.

text | un: konoha

[lumberlady]

[after a rather long search through the network to find out who this "jaskier" fellow was... finally, Konoha thinks that maybe she's located the person she'd been told to find.]

greetings
i is KONOHA 👩🐎
is you man who is called JASKIER?
apologies if is incorrect
but if is correct
may i speak to?

[maybe?]

[thestoryisthis]

[Fortunately, Jaskier knows of exactly two people who would just refer to him as "Jaskier" with no other qualifiers and of the two? Only Geralt's likely to have done it rather than just calling him "bard."]

People have been known to call me Jaskier, yes. What did Geralt do this time?

[lumberlady]

[phew what a relief… !!]

is doing good thing
i wish to repay
send reward
but he say send to address of man called JASKIER

may i use JASKIER as intermediate man?
of course
will send favor for JASKIER as well
for inconvenience…

[thestoryisthis]

[Oh, that's way less awful than expected. Jaskier drops a pin with his house's address (thanks Matt, for teaching him that's a thing) and location in the Solstice Estates and then sends the following:]

He lives here off and on so whatever you'd like to deliver can be left here and I'll give it to him whenever he stops by. It's his house too, so I'm not really an intermediary so much as his tired wife who wishes he would stop living like a hermit in the woods.

[Like, he gets it. Geralt doesn't understand the concept of "home," but also there's a really nice bed in the house and Jaskier thinks he should sleep there instead of in the woods.]

[lumberlady]

[Konoha does not realize how long it may have been, before she realizes that Geralt is gone.

Though he had been dear to her, a trusted something-like-a-friend and a valued lover, he had always been itinerant, and she had never attempted to keep track of him because that had not been her place. She was not his wife, he already had one of those, and a husband, too, or something like that, relationships in this place were both complex and strangely simple like that. When he had visited her in her home in the depths of Emerald Park, she had been glad, and when he had left, she had smiled and waved him off. The only times she ever truly tried to hunt him down instead of just rely on luck and interest to bring him to her were when she went into heat, to see if he might be in position to tend to her.

But this time... He was nowhere to be found. He does not respond to messages. And after checking with GemSci... She understands for sure why. And though she is sad, though she will miss him, though she takes the silver coin he had given her and adds it to the collection of mementos hung around her neck...

She thinks of someone else next, who will surely miss him far, far more.

Konoha has been parted from her husband not once, but twice by travels to these strange worlds. She knows exactly how much it hurts, the sort of loneliness it leaves behind, the them-shaped hole lefts in hearts- or in this case, heart. And it's knowing that which brings her to a home she had first visited in a panicked flee from angry Nuckalevee-hunters, a heavy basket slung over her withers. Hesitating just a moment, not even sure if he would be home but feeling it better delivered in person...

She knocks on Jaskier's door.]

cw: implied alcoholism

[thestoryisthis]

[There's a long minute between when Konoha knocks and when Jaskier finally opens the door. Partly that's the size of the house: it's large enough that getting to the front door from nearly any room takes some time, but mostly it's the fact that Jaskier spotted her walking up to the house and attempted to make himself presentable. Key word: attempted.

There's still dark circles under his eyes, the stubborn beginnings of a beard that he hasn't shaved away, and the limp greasiness of hair that hasn't been washed in a few days. He doesn't actively smell like he hasn't bathed, more like... he hasn't managed to drag himself through his hair care routine in a while. Overall? He looks rough, but he's still trying to appear cheerful even as he looks like he might fall over if a particularly strong breeze kicked up.]

Konoha! I wasn't expecting you, ah. The house is in a bit of a state, but come in. Would you... actually I don't know what's in the refrigerator. I have water? And, ah, a variety of alcohol—although I'm freshly out of vodka.

[That's been gone for a few days, actually. He drank that bottle after he found Ciri missing as well, the house having gone from relatively full and bustling to... well.

It's the same mansion she's been to before, but instead of the magazine perfect look it had previously, it feels like someone has been absently wandering around in the empty cavern of the house and leaving partly consumed drinks and other detritus scattered around. Because he has. There's scribbled bits of song tucked under glasses with a mouthful of alcohol left at the bottom, numerous take-out menus left wherever he might have been standing when he ordered, and discarded clothes draped over the backs of chairs.]

Sorry. I promise it's usually much nicer, I just... I haven't...

[He looks down at the shirt in his hands. It's black, and clearly at least one size too large for him. Almost protectively, he brings the shirt closer to himself.]

Haven't had time to clean up.

[lumberlady]

[At least, Konoha thinks... At least he answered the door.

Honestly, she didn't expect him to look fine. She would have been even more concerned if he had. The first days she had been without Gonta... She had not thought of anything else but him, of missing him, of want to find him, and everything else... She'd managed to maintain her "home", but only because she did so in automatic, wooden movements, poor attempts to throw herself into anything but mourning, but this...

The amount of liquor bottles is worrying, but other than that...]

Oh... Jaskier, it's alright...

[That he hasn't cleaned up. That there... apparently isn't anything in his refrigerator but water and alcohol. That his hair was unkempt. Even that he seemed to be wearing Geralt's shirt, something she was able to tell because it smelled like him, even from this distance, now when her heat made her far more acutely attuned to her senses and made her tail twitch, a satchet of potpourri she'd tied to the dock to try and mask the musky smell shifting along with it.]

I actually, um- I made some extra food today, so I thought you might like it... Can I set it in the kitchen?

[Whether he was hungry or not, she didn't know, but... Perhaps at least if it were already in his home then he might make use of it, and then at least he might have some good, homemade food in his stomach.

Should she say... Geralt's name so soon? She hesitates, unsure, and instead pulls the basket off her withers to present it, filled with a variety of tupperware containers that seem to hold a sampling of meals.]

[thestoryisthis]

Yes, of course. It's only me here right now... I believe Yennefer is still around, but you know. They were never the type of people to stay in one place.

[His hands twist in the shirt, and for a moment he sounds terrified that Yennefer might be gone too. Then it's gone, in that almost eerie way Jaskier can switch his emotions on a dime. This time, though, the switch isn't quite as seamless as it usually is. No matter how much he pretends, he feels like there's a gaping chasm in his life that he doesn't know how to fill at all. He's 42 years old, and he hasn't been without Geralt, like truly without Geralt in a way that he didn't know where Geralt was or how he could be reached, for over half his life.

Right now, Jaskier is going through the realization that he doesn't know who he is outside of Geralt and that... he doesn't know if he even wants to discover the answer to that question.]

You'd think I'd be used to the leaving by now, but... turns out it never gets any easier.

[And he's always the one being left behind.]