[Jaskier's brand of friendship may as well be made entirely of speaking at Geralt's expense. He gives a snort; approving of the jab, of course, because it is utterly true.
Hmm. He's beginning to see why Geralt really thought Sam wouldn't mind his presence. Well, that's an added bonus. Not that Jaskier normally would stop from going after what he's after either way. It simply makes things way more pleasant.
He tips his head.] Funny how these things never seem to be good memories. [It's a bit disturbed, really, what he still wonders the crystals were meant for. His only default belief is it must be a weapon of some kind -- that it brings up something terrible is, in fact, intentional.
This time, Jaskier laughs.] Oh, fuck no. He doesn't send me to do things for him. [Only because Sam has been so laidback does Jaskier not immediately take that as an insult towards him -- as if he's Geralt's errandboy. This may be another case of someone who simply does not recognize what a bard is.] You're absolutely right. Actually, that's nearly happened before.
[Oh, Geralt was going to get him for spilling that later. But considering Jaskier was the one changing the bandages on the road, he feels it's only fair.
Jaskier takes the chair happily; he'd already been considering sitting on one of the beds in here, but even for him, that's pushing the definition of polite rather far.]
Ah. [As he thought; Sam is clearly not knowledgeable about bards. Or Witchers. He simply can't imagine a world that... that doesn't have Witchers. That doesn't need them.] Oh, no. No, I'm as far as you get from a hunter of anything. You'd know a Witcher from his eyes. [He taps just under his own.] The gold.
[Gods, it's fucking bizarre to have to explain this. Jaskier has been so used to pretty much everyone's initial reaction to Geralt being distaste for so long -- in the past, of course, but it still comes up often enough.] I'm simply a bard. You... you do know the purpose of bards, yes?
no subject
Hmm. He's beginning to see why Geralt really thought Sam wouldn't mind his presence. Well, that's an added bonus. Not that Jaskier normally would stop from going after what he's after either way. It simply makes things way more pleasant.
He tips his head.] Funny how these things never seem to be good memories. [It's a bit disturbed, really, what he still wonders the crystals were meant for. His only default belief is it must be a weapon of some kind -- that it brings up something terrible is, in fact, intentional.
This time, Jaskier laughs.] Oh, fuck no. He doesn't send me to do things for him. [Only because Sam has been so laidback does Jaskier not immediately take that as an insult towards him -- as if he's Geralt's errandboy. This may be another case of someone who simply does not recognize what a bard is.] You're absolutely right. Actually, that's nearly happened before.
[Oh, Geralt was going to get him for spilling that later. But considering Jaskier was the one changing the bandages on the road, he feels it's only fair.
Jaskier takes the chair happily; he'd already been considering sitting on one of the beds in here, but even for him, that's pushing the definition of polite rather far.]
Ah. [As he thought; Sam is clearly not knowledgeable about bards. Or Witchers. He simply can't imagine a world that... that doesn't have Witchers. That doesn't need them.] Oh, no. No, I'm as far as you get from a hunter of anything. You'd know a Witcher from his eyes. [He taps just under his own.] The gold.
[Gods, it's fucking bizarre to have to explain this. Jaskier has been so used to pretty much everyone's initial reaction to Geralt being distaste for so long -- in the past, of course, but it still comes up often enough.] I'm simply a bard. You... you do know the purpose of bards, yes?