monstrocities | (no subject)

(no subject)

Out Of Character Permissions

Out Of Character
Backtagging: Yes, always, even if it's been literal years.
Threadhopping: As long as you give me the heads up!
Fourthwalling: No.
Offensive subjects: I do have some hard nos: animal abuse, sexual assault/abuse and the like, but overall I'm more than happy to delve into dark subjects, let's just talk about it first.

In Character Permissions

In Character Hugging/kissing/flirting with this character: Yes.
Fighting with this character: 100% yes.
Injuring this character: Yes, of course.
Killing this character: No thank you.
Using telepathy/mind reading abilities on this character: Yes but I'd prefer plotting these roleplay elements.

Shipping

Everyone Gets a Ride
Fave: Jaskier, Yennefer
Yes:Mostly everyone else, including cross canon.
Maybe: Everyone aside from those listed in no. If you have an idea, send me a message and let's plot! I'm very open to ships.
No: Ciri. Underage (both players and characters).
Gen: Basically anyone.

code

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Jaskier flaps his hand, unconcerned that the two Witchers have made up in such a physical way. He's not exactly concerned about them wearing each other out so much that they won't want him. He's known Geralt long enough to know that's not to case. Both Geralt and Eskel will have more than enough energy for him, whenever he chooses he wants it.

"I can't blame either of you for that, now can I?" Jaskier chuckles. "I just wish I hadn't missed the show."

He dips a new, clean rag into the hot water. "Now, are you ready for a sexy sponge bath, or do you need a moment to recover?"

"Well, you both seem intent on keeping me from my own bed while I'm laid up, I'm sure you'll have other opportunities." Eskel says, tucking an arm behind his head.

"Is the water warm? Shouldn't wait for it to get cold, so you can start whenever you like. Geralt fixed my bandages so you don't have to worry about that part." He promises. "And if it's cold, hand it here." He reaches out his hand.

"Well Eskel, as much as Geralt does not enjoy talking, I already know so much about you that I felt I knew you before even arriving here at Kaer Morhen. You should know more than anyone that once Geralt is sated, he's much more talkative. I had no doubt that the two of you would resolve whatever it was between you, and you would end up here, or he in your room. I was not aware of your injury when I first arrived, however, or else I believe you would have been in Geralt's bed a lot sooner."

He smiles sweetly at the injured Witcher as he speaks, starting to was the sweat and grime from being unable to move too easily. "Perhaps we can get a bath up here sometime soon," he adds.

Eskel, accustomed to keeping himself meticulously clean on The Path (to avoid being detected by his dangerous prey), does have to admit that having someone to help him like this is...well, its mildly embarrassing but its also nice. And better Jaskier than Vesemir or Triss Merigold. That the bard's clever fingers linger here and there is a delightful bonus that he's perfectly content to indulge.

"I'll try not to be here all the time." He promises. "At some point I'll haul myself back to my room. But not right now." He offers a lopsided grin.

Jaskier does a more thorough job at cleaning Eksel up this time around, using soap and water instead of just the cool water he'd had to use the day before. As he's wiping Eskel down, he says, "I have Geralt on the Path all the time. You only get him if you happen upon each other or during your winters here. And with Ciri, that may all change. I don't mind you being here, Eskel."

There's no telling what will happen in the future for any of them, and Jaskier doesn't begrudge Eskel for wanting to spend time with Geralt before they part once the season ends.

"See, you say that but the bed's gonna get awfully small with me in it." He says, amused. "It's barely made for two people. I did sleep better last night than I have in a while so...thank you."

"Easily remedied, my dear. I'll just sleep on top of Geralt," Jaskier says with a grin. It's not like he doesn't usually sleep on top of or under him most nights. "I'm not going to force you out, Eskel, so this is entirely up to you. If you and Geralt want time alone too, I can actually find my own room, or try to convince Lambert to bed me," he laughs.

"I'll bet you a bottle of dwarven whiskey straight from the stills below Mount Carbon that you will not manage your charms with Lambchop. He's too prickly." Eskel says, always eager to make a wager. "You'd have better luck with Coën. He's pretty straight but like me he probably hasn't had much luck on account of his face. And he's probably more lonely and out of his depth than Lambert. Didn't grow up here."

"He may be prickly, but does he sleep with men?" If he doesn't, then Jaskier doesn't have any chance. If he does, then Jaskier is more than happy to try. If Lambert isn't interested, well Jaskier still has Geralt and now Eskel, so it't not like he's lacking in bed partners, just in variety.

Coen is an interesting suggestion, however.

Jaskier isn't going to go anywhere near the sorceresses. That seems like it would be far too much drama for him.

"Not as far as I know. But we were in different cohorts. If he was fooling around in his own novice group, I never heard about it. Haven't heard about him going with men on the Path either." Eskel shrugs. "Try your luck but don't say I didn't warn you." He watches Jaskier from under the edge of his eyelids.

"Will you sit with me a while?" He asks. "When you're done with the bath, I mean."

"Well, I'll let you know what I find out," Jaskier replies with a shark like grin.

"Of course I'll stay. I could even play for you, if you have any requests?" He sits down on the edge of the bed and reaches for his lute. He plays most nights for those in the dining hall, but Eskel hasn't really joined them yet. Hopefully now, he will.

"Nothing about my brother, maybe?" Eskel says, in an obviously teasing tone. "I get enough of his ego in person." Not that the places where Geralt excels over him have ever done the other man any good. "Maybe something a little bawdy. It's been pretty humorless cooped up alone."

"Oh, I'm sure I can write an epic song about you as well, my dear," Jaskier responds. He reaches for his lute and starts tuning it while he considers his arsenal. He has quite a few bawdy songs that he could sing, so he starts with his favourite, adding a little sexiness to his performance just for Eskel.

This is...really nice, actually. More than he'd care to admit aloud but the way he relaxes, rolling onto his good side to get comfortable, tracking Jaskier's clever fingers with his bright, golden eyes. He has to admit that the bard is very good at what he does. Even recovering from injury, his fingers dance along the lute strings and his fine tenor voice seems to ring off the stone walls of the little room.

And the song is actually quite funny, in the way bawdy tavern songs are. Eskel's not sure what to make of the way the bard seems to infuse the performance with his own flirtatious charms. It must be very impressive to see him work a crowd though, he thinks.

He dozes off with a smile on his worn-face.

All seems well for a while until something wakes him from his napping. A pain in the wound on his back and then a feeling of something horribly sticky soaking his bandages and running into the sheets.

Jaskier plays most of the bawdy songs he knows for Eskel, switching to some more vocally based songs when his fingers tire and he notices that Eskel is falling asleep. Whatever he and Geralt had done earlier must have been involved for the Witcher to be this tired.

Jaskier is about to pack up when Eskel wakes suddenly, with a look of pain on his face.

"What's happening?" Jaskier asks. "What-" but then the smell hits him and he wrinkles his nose. "Eskel, tell me what you need."

It's less than his and Geralt's fooling around this morning had been strenuous and more that it had released an incredible weight from the witcher. He feels at peace for the first time in a long time and his weary body simply takes the opportunity to sleep the moment he feels safe.

Eskel sits up and notes a large, ichorous stain on the sheets where his back had been, smelling like wet wood and leaf rot and something else, acrid and unnatural.

"Go get Vesemir, quick." He says, real fear in his eyes when he looks at Jaskier.

{{And I can take on Vesemir as an NPC so you don't have to carry all the extra characters yourself. He won't be needed for very long since Eskel's going to be fine.}}

Edited 2023-09-01 20:11 (UTC)

[ ooc: oh, excellent. Thank you :) ]

Jaskier eventually tapers off with playing. He can't do it nearly as long as he used to be able to because of the injury, and the fact that this isn't a lute his used to. Geralt had unearthed it from some storage room in the keep. He sets it down gently on the makeshift stand and then opens to book he'd been reading. He's not sure how long passes, likely not too long because Witchers don't often sleep for long periods of time, until Jaskier starts to notice a very strange and terrible scent.

He wrinkles is nose but doesn't have time to do much more than that, because Eskel is sitting up and telling him to find Vesemir, and then Jaskier is off, rushing through the halls looking for the old man.

Vesemir is in the great hall, arguing with Coën and Lambert about divying up the day's work.

"If you wanted to skip out on chores, you should have joined your brother in hunting for Eskel's leshen." He says. "But you didn't want to do that because it's too cold and it's too wet, you said. So you can stay nice and warm and dry in here. Cleaning equipment and inventorying alchemical supplies. Or you can-- oh what now?" The old wolf turns his attention to Jaskier when the bard careens into the hall. "What's wrong with you, boy?"

Jaskier doesn't mean to interrupt Vesemir dressing Lambert down for trying to shirk his chores, but this is much more important. "It's Eskel. Something's happening." He's not really sure how else to describe it, he just needs Vesemir to come. "Please, I think it's something bad."

He starts to lead Vesemir away from Eskel's room but then stops. "He's in Geralt's room." Which must be very telling.

Vesemir can deal with the boys lapsing back into their old habits later. Or maybe he won't, they're grown men now and what can he do? In any case, they all have bigger problems at the moment. Doesn't stop him from frowning about it.

Eskel's on the floor when they get to Geralt's room, his bandages soaked with that black stuff. He's shuddering and whimpering.

"Vesemir..." He gasps, reaching for his father figure. "What's happening?"

"I don't know, boy, but I don't like the look of it." The old witcher steps into the room, drawing the huge silver hunting knife as he does so. Eskel doesn't fight as the old man lays it against his neck.

"I'm just going to look. This is a precaution, nothing more." Vesemir promises.

"If there's so much as a twig stickin' out of me, cut my head off." Eskel pleads, eyes wide with fear.

Vesemir sits him forward, peels off the bandages. His frown deepens, but he doesn't do anything to Eskel. He reaches for the ruined sheet on the bed and swipes at the wound.

"I think...I think the wound is purging itself, somehow." He says, after a moment. He pulls a bottle of red Swallow from the bracer of potion bottles on his forearm, uncorks it with his teeth, and upends it onto the hole.

It begins to close, for the first time in weeks Vesemir can see real progress: pink, healthy skin pulling the hole closed.

"I don't know what's happening." The old witcher admits. "But it's good, I think." He tosses the knife onto Geralt's bed and just holds Eskel, something he has't done since the other man was a foundling of just four. But now he's comforting as much as restraining...just in case.

By the time things seem to settle down, the black scarring down Eskel's arm and up the side of his neck is gone, replaced by faint and entirely normal-looking scars. The hole in his back, added by the application of Swallow, looks like an ordinary wound, already scabbed over. Likely to be just another faint scar by next nightfall.

"Does it hurt?" Vesemir asks.

"No." Eskel breathes, his tone baffled but relieved. "Not anymore, not like it did."

Jaskier is quickly pushed out of the room, likely because if the Leshen is trying to overtake Eskel again, he will be in great danger. He frets outside of the door for a moment or two, but then he needs to do something. He needs to be distracted from what may be happening in the room. He'd seen the wicked looking blade that Vesemir had brought in with him.

Instead, he finds himself hovering around the lab, where he hears Yennefer and Triss speaking from behind the door. He knocks lightly, and then lets himself in.

"Bard," Yennefer greets.

"Witch," Jaskier quips back. "I need something to do. Geralt isn't here and Eskel might be dying. Please let me chop or squish or something." He'd helped Geralt make potions on the road - nothing dangerous to humans, but he's chopped herbs, bugs, other disgusting things, so he knows that he can do this.

"Here," Triss tells him with a soft voice, setting a tray in front of him.

"Geralt and Ciri went monsgter hunting," Yennefer tells him without him having to convince it out of her. "They should be back after dinner."

Jaskier nods, pitting it all together and realising that Geralt went to find the Leshen, and that might be what's going on with Eskel. The idea terrifies him. If the creature fell someone like Eskel, it must be dangerous and deadly. Jaskier doesn't want to lose Geralt that way.

At least some of his fears might be assuaged when Vesemir comes into the lab, with Eskel on tow. He's still wearing the brace on his leg, but he has renewed hope that he might be able to heal this injury now that the remains of the leshen aren't festering in his body. And he's standing upright, no longer stooped with pain or weakness. He calls out to the bard, knowing how worried the human must be.

"It's alright now, Jaskier. No idea what happened, but...the wound is all but gone. Ruined that mattress though, probably. We'll have to find another one."

"Eskel," Jaskier says when they walk in. He doesn't exactly drop what he's doing, but it's a near thing. He carefully puts his knife down and makes sure that the herbs he'd been cutting won't fall, but then he's in front of Eskel, giving him a proper hug. It's strange, because he feels like he knows Eskel much better than the big Witcher knows him, and Jaskier is probably being a bit too affectionate with him, especially under three pairs of watchful eyes.

"Geralt went to kill the Leshen," he says. Eskel's wound healing could mean many things. The Leshen could be dead. It could have taken Geralt instead. There's no way for Jaskier to know.

Eskel looks Vesemir and the old man's mustache twitches thoughtfully.

"It could be that the leshen could not properly mark you. You were prevented from becoming its vessel when I pulled the main roots out of you." The master witcher notes. "But I could not get them all, if the infiltration was unusual, impacted by its mutations. It might be that the leshen was in mortal pain, tried to transfer to you, it couldn't properly without the full root system. Or it's death means the infiltration has purged itself. Both options likely mean Geralt had a successful hunt. We can hope, anyway."

Jaskier certainly hopes so. He cares so deeply for Geralt, and he can't imagine life without him now that they've reconnected once again. If something's happened to his Witcher, or to the little princess, Jaskier isn't sure what he will do. Even when they'd spent so many years apart, Jaskier had asked after Geralt, has listened for rumours of dead or injured Witchers. If Geralt had found him again only to go off and die... he doesn't know what he will do.

Perhaps Vesemir could let him stay. He could wander the frigid halls of Kaer Morhen for the remainder of his days, haunting them like a ghost.

He looks between Eskel and Vesemir, frowning. "If the wound is healed, why did you come up here?"

(no subject)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

ugh sorry, life this week :/

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)