[Any sense of excitement that was growing on his face certainly falls flat as Sam turns down the idea that his friend is a mythical lupine creature. There's still a chance, though! That Sam is one! And he doesn't interrupt for that very reason -- and, certainly, because he's nosy.] Be more interesting if he was a werewolf, honestly.
[If one were to ask Jaskier, he thinks this is all a bit of a dodgy way to describe one's friend, though he does suspect there may be the smallest edge of ideation there. Perhaps Sam has a thing for him? It's only natural. So many are drawn to the, as he says, loner hunter wolf, er... vibe. Vibe?
Unfortunately, it seems Sam is not a mythical lupine creature, either. He gives him a look over, a little suspiciously, anyway. Perhaps one would not divulge that secret so eagerly.
Jaskier snorts.] Yes, well, I've never had to explain what a bard does, either. Perhaps we're similar?
[In that way, at least. He is certainly not a protector. Oh, ho. So far from it. Jaskier recrosses his legs, coming to terms with the idea that he has to contort some explanations to fit the mold that is the Continent, already in his mind. The problem of interacting with others across spheres. Fuck. The Conjunction must have simply been a large group of people/monsters who were all hopelessly fucking confused.]
Like knights? Though you'd be hard-pressed to find a knight who's talented or protective. Most of them are in it for the coin. ["Big bad guys." Gods. He's certainly not a bard, if a talent with words was a requirement.] Hmmmm. [He draws out the sound, leaning back until the front two legs of his chair lift from the ground. The chair sways back and forth as his foot bounces.] It doesn't seem "normal" would be a fitting description for people like that, then. So why describe yourself as such? Downplaying one's abilities certain makes one a bit boring.
[Geralt does the exact same. Which, you know. Thus: the bard. Thus why he needed one to upplay his abilities. And successes. And stretch the truth a bit where it was needed.]
no subject
[If one were to ask Jaskier, he thinks this is all a bit of a dodgy way to describe one's friend, though he does suspect there may be the smallest edge of ideation there. Perhaps Sam has a thing for him? It's only natural. So many are drawn to the, as he says, loner hunter wolf, er... vibe. Vibe?
Unfortunately, it seems Sam is not a mythical lupine creature, either. He gives him a look over, a little suspiciously, anyway. Perhaps one would not divulge that secret so eagerly.
Jaskier snorts.] Yes, well, I've never had to explain what a bard does, either. Perhaps we're similar?
[In that way, at least. He is certainly not a protector. Oh, ho. So far from it. Jaskier recrosses his legs, coming to terms with the idea that he has to contort some explanations to fit the mold that is the Continent, already in his mind. The problem of interacting with others across spheres. Fuck. The Conjunction must have simply been a large group of people/monsters who were all hopelessly fucking confused.]
Like knights? Though you'd be hard-pressed to find a knight who's talented or protective. Most of them are in it for the coin. ["Big bad guys." Gods. He's certainly not a bard, if a talent with words was a requirement.] Hmmmm. [He draws out the sound, leaning back until the front two legs of his chair lift from the ground. The chair sways back and forth as his foot bounces.] It doesn't seem "normal" would be a fitting description for people like that, then. So why describe yourself as such? Downplaying one's abilities certain makes one a bit boring.
[Geralt does the exact same. Which, you know. Thus: the bard. Thus why he needed one to upplay his abilities. And successes. And stretch the truth a bit where it was needed.]