wiedzminka | ❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

Oooh. I'm sorry we can't all be stoic badasses when we've been worried sick for a day!

[You're welcome for the term from Sam, and once Sam explained it to him, he's been slipping it into his vernacular where it suits.

And here feels about appropriate.]

Of course I told him. And while I am very sorry you may get some sort of lecture from him, I was -- I was afraid, you know, when you didn't respond. I realize you were possibly not conscious, but --

I let him know. That you answered.

[And let them figure out if they'd rather message each other beyond that.]

Edited 2022-06-21 00:33 (UTC)

[ He really loves these new words people from other worlds keep teaching him, huh. Ciri sighs, and it may as well read in the text she sends. She is. So tired. ]

You needn't be sorry. I only wanted to know who you've told, who might also worry.

[ Since, apparently, there's a whole slew of people who'd worry about her now. The truth is, that's not a bad feeling. But she needs to know what kinds of questions she might need to field, and from whom, and she's hardly in the mental state for it. If Jaskier's already let Geralt know, that's enough. Ciri will reach out to him in her own time. ]

You are the first one I wrote. I didn't mean to frighten you.

[They're fitting, all right! They get straight to the heart of things!]

You know I only keep our stories between the three of us.

[For necessity, sometimes, but because Jaskier respects both Geralt's and Ciri's secrecy (now that he's in on it. Before, it was very insulting.)]

It's all right. My apologies for snapping. It's only worry and love, and I'm afraid they make a fiery mix.

I know.

Thank you.

[ On both accounts. It's a relief, and yet it doesn't really make her feel better. It'll take some time to sort through all that happened. ]

I'll keep in touch, when I can.

[He considers giving her the XOXO treatment he's been leaving Geralt, but perhaps another time. It certainly isn't the mood, and she hasn't told him near enough what he'd like.]

As you have time. If you end up needing the services, visit old Wilhelm's in Aquila. I wrote a song for his wife and he still owes me a favor. His wagons are rather nice, and he doesn't attempt small talk.

[A boon to the Witcheress right now, he imagines.]

Edited 2022-06-21 22:20 (UTC)

I could use a friendly favor from someone with a wagon, honestly. I don't think Viktor can ride back that far.

I'll use your name, see what he says.

[ Guilty again, although this warms her chest a bit instead of making her veins run cold. ]

That sounds lovely. I would have gotten you something if I knew it was your birthday.

Oh, believe me. My name will be enough.

[If there's one thing he can be confident, it's that. And the song he wrote was absolutely lovely enough that Wilhelm's one shared dinner was not a complete lump payment.]

I won't bother you longer. But leave me a message when you're arriving. I'll be home to greet you.

I didn't tell them. Jaskier did.

It's all right. I wasn't expecting it.

[ She means she wasn't expecting it from anyone, in fact, not just Alina. ]

[He closes his eyes under her scrutiny, not quite like a petulant child, but... almost.]

The shirt is ridiculous. [Flatly. The color, the frills. (He does not seem to mind how much of his chest it shows off, though.)

...But maybe it is just a tad bit embarrassing, having Ciri laugh at his expense. He opens his eyes to look at her, even if she's still trying to get a gander of his new outfit up-close.]

How is it that Jaskier can stand to walk around like this?

[The Shinra building, or at least the one he's fashioned for himself in his domain, is a tall and intimidating structure, always swathed in night. There are no stars hanging above, the sky constantly clogged a faint, lurid green haze of excess Mako clinging to the heart of Midgar, but the building itself is well-lit enough to make up for it, even from the outside. It is all glass and steel and corporate shine; and yet it is also a show of military power, as armored vehicles emerge from the underground parking garage entrance at the side of the building, driving down to the nearby highway access road and disappearing at the edges of his domain, helmed by faceless drivers.

He is not so awkward a host to leave her there, waiting, nor does he leave her waiting for long. The entrance doors slide open with an automated hiss, and Sephiroth steps out to meet her. As always in this place, he opts to wear what is familiar to him -- his SOLDIER 1st class uniform, certainly unlike anything he's ever been given in Cadens, though he does not keep his old sword at his side in the Horizon. There's no need.]

You're overdue for a visit.

[Despite the starkness of their surroundings--of himself--he says it with a smile.]

[ She's even closer when he opens his eyes. Ciri reaches out to straighten some of the ruffles down the wide V in the front, pressing them down to lay flat against his chest. (And, consequently, definitely also touching his chest. Totally not the intent here, of course.)

She laughs. ]

Confidence, my good fellow. In abundance.

[She is close, and though he had not planned to move away, Sephiroth consciously remains stock-still as her hands roam over his borrowed shirt's ridiculous frills. As her fingers linger, he casts his gaze to fix somewhere over her shoulder, suddenly very aware of their close proximity in a way he had not truly ever considered before.]

I prefer black.

[He says, uselessly, regarding the preference of color. Is it warm in here, suddenly?]

[ Ciri pulls back, just a little. Her lips quirk, eyebrows up, as she surveys him. ]

Are you sulking?

I will. See you soon.

[ A week is still fairly soon, when one is accustomed to traveling some distance on a regular basis. As Jaskier had assured her, this Wilhelm is quite helpful and reliable, and between that and Ciri's own connections with the apothecaries and a few other merchants, they manage to arrange a ride back and replace some of their lost supplies. Patched up as well as they can be for now, she and Viktor make the trip back, thankfully without further excitement.

After she hands Viktor off to Jayce (and receives a surprise sword for her efforts), Ciri messages Jaskier that she's in the city and heading back to their apartment. Of course, as soon as she arrives, she stops by the stable to check on Nixie, and then heads upstairs. ]

[ It's her fault he was in that position in the first place, so Ciri can't feel... too good about it, honestly. Of course she'd saved his life. She'd endangered it. It'd have been his blood on her hands if she hadn't managed -- so ultimately, it all feels a bit selfish and uneasy. But she doesn't bother getting into it with Jayce, whom she doesn't know that well, and who is only worried about his friend. She says, instead: ]

I made it my job to help people.

And I consider him a friend, too.

[Giving Ciri the space to concentrate on getting home is enough to keep Jaskier’s head occupied, in between growing a new batch of plants (which he pushes himself to make bloom in the desert heat – leading to far more sleeping than he meant to indulge in), and updating Geralt with new messages when he thinks to. He’s beginning to feel a bit like a wife, sometimes, taking care of their home while the big, scary Witchers run off to do their business.

Not that he minded. He had Mog for company, he could take care of Nixie. He returned Viktor’s horse and met his handsome friend Jayce, whose company he had not minded, either.

It did lead him to notice the emptiness of their home, though. The space in the loft that Rinwell had once occupied, now with a filled bookshelf. He had gone to market and bought a set of small vases, placing different flowers in each that reminded him of her – blue hydrangeas for the colors she wore, dandelions for a yellow dress she’d once donned to help sell flowers at the stand. There was also a tiny carved owl between them, perched as if a silent watcher. Next to it, Jaskier had laid a matching carving of a toad. Hector had not been a permanent resident of their home, but he had made his mark regardless.

And it was there, having pulled a book of Cadens magic from the shelf that Ciri’s message found him. Finally! He grabs the bottle of wine he’d ordered for her days ago, pretends he is not waiting somewhat anxiously for her to return by the door, like an abandoned pup. But he takes Geralt’s request quite seriously.

Look after her.

He opens the door before she can step through, rushing down to grab her in a hug.] Ciri, my dear! My prodigal girl! Are you all right? [He holds her by the shoulders, looking her over.] You and Viktor made it back with no issues?

Edited 2022-06-25 07:16 (UTC)

[ The hug is expected, and also appreciated. Ciri steps into his arms. She stays like that for a little bit, giving Jaskier a squeeze in return, until he pulls her back to take a better look, none too subtle about the way he takes stock of her appearance and double checks for injuries.

She's washed her clothes during the short stay in Aquila, mended them on the wagon roughly with some off-color thread. Her blouse has certainly seen better days, but the gashes beneath the patched-up tears and suspicious stains where not all the blood came out have healed -- thanks to both Viktor, and then Jayce. Physically, she looks to be in one piece, if travel-worn and dusty (but that's pretty much normal by now). The new sword Jayce gave her is slung on its strap around her shoulder, but naturally, she carries little else.

Ciri gives him a tired smile, and then -- perhaps giving away she's more shaken than she looks -- another hug. ]

Yes. I left Viktor with Jayce. No issues.

I'm all right. And I let Geralt know when we made it back to Cadens.

[ Jayce actually has already reached the idea that both Ciri and Viktor probably feel guilty about this; he reassured Viktor but he doesn't know Ciri well enough to jump to that conclusion openly. ]

Will you two be okay on the road back? I don't know that route at all. I've always wanted to go to Aquila.

It's a large road, well populated. Safe as it gets out here.

I travel this road frequently on jobs. There are even a couple of inns along the way. For next time.

[ Considering she and Viktor don't have coin on them, they're probably stuck sleeping on the wagon. Or at least Viktor is, and she'll be outside, but that's fine. Ciri promised the merchant to act as guard as part of their payment, so she's been staying with the wagon whenever its owners spend the night somewhere else, or drop off supplies to the inns along the route. It's honestly a very lucky arrangement they've managed, considering. ]

[ It's a relief to hear that. He knows Viktor is safe with her, she's proven it twice now, but still. They both are injured and exhausted. This means they should be fine. ]

Let me know if you need anything. I can send messages, deliver things, whatever is useful. Viktor said he'd check in with me every day but I'm at your disposal too.

[No worse than usual. No worse than usual, so he can breathe a sigh of relief. His entire fucking life had been worry-free, now it's as if it's all he's filled with now. A truly pathetic housewife, if he must be one. But he's not going out there to fight monsters or, or -- well, whatever the fuck Viktor and Ciri went out to do. To be fair, he hadn't asked. He'd had plenty of other things (mainly: himself) on his mind.

The second hug, Jaskier truly squeezes. Kissing the top of her head, he holds her as long as she needs.

There's plenty of time to drill her with questions when she's ready. Knowing now, as knowing before, wouldn't change anything.]

Right. His burly friend. We met. More handsome, I'm afraid, than he is quick with flirtations.

[What? The guy is big and handsome. Of course Jaskier did.] Good. If he thinks anything happened to you, he'd probably lop my hands off. Which, I remind you, I do need. [Now she's back, he can more easily slip into humor than the snippy, sharp tone that carried his messages.] I got you a bottle of wine. Or, if you want to get drunk, another of mead. I assume you want to relax after that journey.

[He crosses his arms, disarranging the ruffles sewn into his garment.]

No.

[Yes.]

But you think I look ridiculous.

[ Ciri scoffs, cocking a fist on her hip and gesturing at him with the other hand, impatient. ]

I do not! I just said I thought it looks nice!

[He huffs out a sigh, and lets a beat of silence pass before replying.]

You can't tell me you prefer this to my uniform.

❧ IC INBOX: Abraxas

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