(OPEN) ♫ the first song

[cointosser]

🧙 WHO: Jaskier and Y o U
⚔️️ WHAT: Settling in, a party rock anthem, almost dying, maybe spying.
🕒 WHEN: Throughout May
🗺️ WHERE: In Camelot
⚠️ WARNINGS: None yet!



🎼 Quest: Party Rock

[Ever since his arrival, Jaskier had existed in a state where he had no idea what the fuck was going on, really. Either he was dead or on another world or something, either he had magic or he was magic, and a bloody gryphon was following him around and giving him these looks like he couldn’t be trusted, which may have been amusing if it wasn’t a bloody killing machine. Whether this one was young and — and worst of all, his. He’d spent at least an hour trying to run from it only for it to find him. Every time. No matter where he was.

But he was the crazy one for finding it a bit odd that a gryphon was fucking bonded to him.

It wasn’t the worst thing, but it made as little sense as anything else. As little as a bard becoming a magician, apparently, though he had little idea what to do with magic.

Oh, but worry not! Avalon had an answer for that, as well: education! What a novel idea. Which wouldn’t be so frustrating if he hadn’t shown up here with empty pockets. In fact, the only thing he’d had after falling into a lake (don’t get him started about it) was his clothes and his lute. (Which, luckily, suffered no damage from the fall or the water.)

All in all, it’s been terribly stressful. And Jaskier doesn’t necessarily need an excuse to go to a party, least of all being stressed, but, well. Here he is. Enjoying himself. And his gryphon was, for once, no where to be found. (He misses it, a little, but good luck getting him to admit it.) He plays a bit of music, drinks, uh, more than he probably should, but gods. It feels wonderful. It’s the first time he can really relax.

And when he’s exhausted, he makes a move for the door, his fingers sore from plucking strings and feet sore even worse from dancing.

There’s no door.

It escalates rather quickly from there. It’s very likely he’s only misplaced where the door is, and as he clutches his lute and moves among the party-goers, he becomes increasingly convinced he did not, in fact, misplace it.

It begins with Jaskier only freaking out, er, a little.

It ends with him setting his lute aside so he can pick up a chair and throw it at a window.]

🎵 TDM: Arrival C -- Red Spring

[Ah, finally a time to actually relax. Because absolutely nothing can go wrong in a spring. Or, at least, Jaskier is prepared to initiate murder in order to ensure that nothing goes wrong, because he is terribly tired of being high-strung about —

Well, it’s been a while since he’s been back to university. As a student. Plenty of times in the past few years has he been a guest lecturer, and while he thoroughly enjoys sitting in a few classes or two, he’s now…

A student.

Of magic.

Wonderful.

He sinks into the spring with a loud sigh, skin turning a light pink from the heat. It’s wonderful on his aching bones from all the walking he’s been doing, and especially on his hands from all the playing. A lot of playing, considering he has to work on building his fucking reputation back up from nothing. He’s introduced himself to several fellow Avalonites, and not a single one has heard of him.

Which, in turn, is unheard of.

The only shame of the spring is it doesn’t quite let one peek in on the training grounds, which he took a mighty look at on the way in. Well, why not? Attractive fighters all sweaty and, sometimes, shirtless under the sun. It’s not a terrible time to practice his, er, magic. He’s been learning. He is, if anything, a studious student.

He pulls at his magic, drawing the material of the fence surrounding the spring to make a little hole. He’s very aware things are usually the reverse in springs, but — look, he can fix it once he leaves.]

🎻 TDM: Vying for Votes C -- Crystal Hunt

[With a little practice of his magic, he’s ready to move on from turning leaves into, uh… smaller leaves. And various other small, alchemical processes that, honestly, got boring very quickly.

The opportunity to grab rather pretty crystals? Perfection. Even better is, it seems, no one expects any payment out of it. Because Jaskier will not stand any longer looking so… er, plain. Not until he has a heftier bag of coin, at least.

It feels like a brilliant plan all in all, until he’s handed a pickaxe.

Just looking at it makes his callouses hurt.] You’ve got to be kidding. I thought they’d just be… you know, on the ground.

[The worker gives him a once over and maybe notices he’s not exactly built of muscle and shit bricks. Fine. Here. Try this.

The thing he hands Jaskier is. A thing. For sure. A drill? Is he meant to smash this into the rock, too?] Somehow this feels the worse option.

🎤 TDM: Bullheaded A -- Two Bards, One Rock (only one bard, actually)

[Jaskier’s peeking out a window of a bakery he’s taken to frequenting, with simple plans of relaxing with a fresh loaf and wheel of cheese somewhere sunny, practicing on a new song.

It is, at that moment, he sees something hurtling towards the window.

That’s —

He yells, diving for the small woman he’d been about to pay, pushing her against the back wall as the edge of the boulder crashes through the far wall, sending up a cloud of dust as the entire building shudders around them.]

What the fuck is that?!

[Oh, fuck. Fuck. There's distant scream, another shudder through the earth, another crash. He grabs the sleeve of the closest arm, half out of fear and half out of complete and total flight response.] I suggest we leave. Now. Immediately.

Comments

[gynvael]

[ He makes an exasperated gesture that suggests Jaskier needs to keep his voice down. The guests might be in a stupor, but the magic that holds them also gives them a keen sense of those not participating in the party. ]

Still doors on the outside.

[ They just vanish on the inside. Which means the exit itself still exists underneath the heavy magic. They only need to break the seal.

Easier said than done. He sighs. ]

Where's your gracious host?

[cointosser]

What?

[Fuck. Despite only feeling he should get even louder, he does quiet down, his lute against his back as he folds his arms. Of all the bloody curses to succumb to, he didn't think being trapped in the one place he felt -- felt most like himself was one he should have been so wary of.

Just his luck.

And just his luck the one man he doesn't wish to see is the one who comes to help. If that is, indeed, what Geralt's plan was. More likely he came to berate him, or something. Or even ask if he's the cause of the curse.]

Unfortunately for you, I don't have a magic spell on the man to keep track of him. [All right, he's being more petulant that Geralt deserves at the moment, but.] I finished a set and went to drink. Everyone broke apart after that. I thought that was all the song I'd be playing tonight, but -- well, here we are. Again. [He pauses.] Why, are you planning on killing him? Or flaying him alive with a few choice words?

[gynvael]

[ Unfortunately. Everything about what's going on is unfortunate. He looks up the stairs, then over his shoulder. The bodies brush against him. He takes Jaskier's arm, moving him off to the side. ]

I'm not killing anyone. [ Jaskier is being a petulant bastard. He's also not about to pick at it when they're both trapped in his damn house, and he already knows exactly why Jaskier is pissed off at him. It doesn't matter.

Fuck, Jaskier shouldn't be here. How is he here? Out of everyone on the Continent, the two of them tumble into this one world? That isn't a coincidence. (Destiny, he thinks dryly. )

He turns away. He wants to solve this curse, not dwell on all that. And it's without a look back that he begins to make his way towards the upper floor. Jaskier can stay with the party and drink if he likes. He doubts the bard is in the mood to follow him about, as he was wont to do before. ]

[cointosser]

[Jaskier does not resist the urge to roll his eyes, and does so. Of course he isn't. He knows the sort that Geralt is, and it isn't a man who rolls into a party to kill the lord of it. (Unfortunate, for this moment, because Jaskier feels he could wring the man to death himself, given a chance.)

For his sake, he's focusing on that and not that -- the impossibility that Geralt is here, not just in this house, that he'd seen him at the window, but this city, this entire bloody sphere. What was one Destiny is suddenly beginning to feel like a curse.

Even if a part of him is glad to see his... friend.

Unluckily for Geralt, Jaskier hefts his lute onto his back and does follow him, because it comes so automatically for one, and because he does not want to be alone here, forced into another dance until his feed bleed.] Well, what's your plan, Witcher? Interrogate everyone here? Break his favorite lamp? Maybe it's cursed!