inbox for duplicity;
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( despite being convinced that she is back in the city and having seen her to confirm that, it's still strange to be able to meet her somewhere for what they're calling a drink. he doesn't exactly know what they're going to be doing since he's not much for talking and she's certain to be dealing with how different and strange this place is. they've both seen a lot of shit but nothing compares to this place.
he makes sure to get there early, to find a table so he can get a drink or two in him before she arrives. it's always difficult to tell what kind of turn their conversations will take so he wants to be prepared and be calm.
the establishment isn't too crowded which means he can find a spot away from the crowd and wait for her, a drink in front of him. he rubs a thumb against his lip when he sees her step in and then looks down so he doesn't get caught staring. )
[ He doesn't pick a place that's far from the housing where she's been assigned — which is fortunate, given that Yennefer's still attempting to make heads or tails of her device and reading anything resembling a map on the small screen takes her longer than it might with anyone who is more accustomed to wielding something so powerful yet small enough to be slipped into the pocket of her coat.
She's still wearing the clothes she last remembers being in possession of, having changed into the garments that she discovered in her closet after being delivered to her apartment in nothing but a paper dress that barely covered her frame. She'll need more options to wear later, but what she has will suffice until she can procure other garments for herself.
Of course her gaze shifts to Geralt as soon as she steps in through the front door; how could it not? He practically takes up the space of a table all by himself with his sheer breadth, though she can't determine from where she's standing if he's seen her yet or not. Her stride takes her to him without hesitation in spite of an initial balking — the last time she'd laid eyes on him he'd barely been able to tolerate her presence for the length of their conversation, about Ciri no less. ]
You've already started. [ She lowers her gaze to the pint resting in front of him, waiting for his eyes to lift to hers. ]
She's still wearing the clothes she last remembers being in possession of, having changed into the garments that she discovered in her closet after being delivered to her apartment in nothing but a paper dress that barely covered her frame. She'll need more options to wear later, but what she has will suffice until she can procure other garments for herself.
Of course her gaze shifts to Geralt as soon as she steps in through the front door; how could it not? He practically takes up the space of a table all by himself with his sheer breadth, though she can't determine from where she's standing if he's seen her yet or not. Her stride takes her to him without hesitation in spite of an initial balking — the last time she'd laid eyes on him he'd barely been able to tolerate her presence for the length of their conversation, about Ciri no less. ]
You've already started. [ She lowers her gaze to the pint resting in front of him, waiting for his eyes to lift to hers. ]
Not that I care, or anything, but... How are you settling in?
I hope I am finding you well. I have given the matter of our possible contract some thought. Your proposal is reasonable and I find I am in need of assistance more than I expected.
I hope I haven't waited too long?
I hope I haven't waited too long?
[ admittedly, it takes yennefer a bit of time to respond, but only because she's still working out the intricacies of these devices and switching from a texting option to one where he can hear her voice as easily. ]
Lord Osborne. The only way you could have possibly waited too long was if you had contacted me from prison, and even then I'm sure we could have come to an arrangement.
Finding yourself in more dire straits?
Lord Osborne. The only way you could have possibly waited too long was if you had contacted me from prison, and even then I'm sure we could have come to an arrangement.
Finding yourself in more dire straits?
Has your pursuit of a contract been going well?
Meet Quentin! You two should talk about femdom!
Oh god I thought they were done sending these
Oh god I thought they were done sending these
Following his first mutual feeding with Jon, Erik returns to their shared apartment with flush cheeks, rosy still with the lingering effects of his meal. Yet, despite the flush, his expression is draw-in tight. He does not regret this choice he has made, but he is determined to put some safety nets in place for himself. And first of all, he needs to make Yen aware of, well, the general shape of things.
"I have news," he announces. Telling, that he doesn't call it good news. "Do you have a moment? I know it's getting late."
"I have news," he announces. Telling, that he doesn't call it good news. "Do you have a moment? I know it's getting late."
It is late, though Yennefer is less likely to be concerned with the hour itself and slightly more interested in why he appears so flushed; she’s dressed merely for lounging about the apartment in a long robe belted at the waist and little else, the bare length of a leg visible in her half-recline as she glances up from where she’s seated on the living room sofa, fiddling with her own device.
“I’ve nothing that demands my attention,” she replies, tucking the device between a couple of pillows and then regarding him with a quiet steadiness. “Except whatever you’re feeling particularly driven to inform me of.” Whatever it is, he hasn’t even decided to wait until morning, which indicates some urgency, but her gaze doesn’t reveal anything beyond casual interest.
“I’ve nothing that demands my attention,” she replies, tucking the device between a couple of pillows and then regarding him with a quiet steadiness. “Except whatever you’re feeling particularly driven to inform me of.” Whatever it is, he hasn’t even decided to wait until morning, which indicates some urgency, but her gaze doesn’t reveal anything beyond casual interest.
Action/prose (let me know if you want me to tweak anything)
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lordoftheozarks
2022-05-16 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Following the hot mess this entire thing is sure to be Erik, still drunk, slips out of his room and instead goes up to Yennefer's door.
He can hear her from the other side. He shouldn't disturb her but... well, his bed is fucked and the couch sucks. Plus, he misses having a warm bed mate. The smell of elderflower has been clinging to him all night from the drinks and it's been making him think of her off and on all the while already. The last of his restraint has eroded completely away.
He's being quiet as a mouse as he finally twists the knob and opens the door, tiptoes across the room to the far side of the bed. His Jacket is ruined (again) and so is his shirt. So, unthinking about the collar still around his neck, he strips both away along with his shoes. And, it's with all the gentleness of a child climbing into his mother's bed after a nightmare that he lifts the covers and attempts to slot himself in against her unnoticed. There's nothing overtly sexual in the gesture. He doesn't crave sex, he just craves the warmth of a body next to him. Just the heat that radiates from a living being, and the sound of a heartbeat that comes with it. It's as good for helping him relax as the sound of rain hitting the roof during a summer storm.
He hasn't thought ahead to what she'll say if she wakes to find him there, or how he'll defend himself when she does. All he knows is it's been a long night (and a long week) and he doesn't feel like being alone.
He can hear her from the other side. He shouldn't disturb her but... well, his bed is fucked and the couch sucks. Plus, he misses having a warm bed mate. The smell of elderflower has been clinging to him all night from the drinks and it's been making him think of her off and on all the while already. The last of his restraint has eroded completely away.
He's being quiet as a mouse as he finally twists the knob and opens the door, tiptoes across the room to the far side of the bed. His Jacket is ruined (again) and so is his shirt. So, unthinking about the collar still around his neck, he strips both away along with his shoes. And, it's with all the gentleness of a child climbing into his mother's bed after a nightmare that he lifts the covers and attempts to slot himself in against her unnoticed. There's nothing overtly sexual in the gesture. He doesn't crave sex, he just craves the warmth of a body next to him. Just the heat that radiates from a living being, and the sound of a heartbeat that comes with it. It's as good for helping him relax as the sound of rain hitting the roof during a summer storm.
He hasn't thought ahead to what she'll say if she wakes to find him there, or how he'll defend himself when she does. All he knows is it's been a long night (and a long week) and he doesn't feel like being alone.
Her door isn't locked; she doesn't feel the need to keep it that way when she's rarely asleep, and even then often tends to rest lightly enough that she'll be jarred awake at the first sign of a disturbance. For some reason, however, that doesn't occur tonight, not when her door creaks open and small steps accompany his movement across the floor to her, not while the rustle of clothing precedes the subtle dipping of the mattress beneath an added weight, and perhaps not even once he shifts in to fit himself against her, curling around her and positioning them so that her backside is snugly nestled in the cradle of his thighs.
Eventually, she does stir softly, but not with a violent jerk or an immediate attempt to get away from him. Whether it's the coolness of his body relative to her own — for she already sleeps with nothing on, nothing but the threadcount of a bedsheet between her bare skin and his — or the fact that she cannot remember the last time anyone merely held her in a bed exactly like this, her first instinct isn't to pull away from it but to curl in more, and perhaps she can even justify it from the sole fact that she isn't fully awake at the moment, that she can pretend this is somewhere between reality and a dreaming state.
She curves back into him, her back fitted to his chest, a sleepy groan rising from her throat without any attempt to stifle it, and her hips venture a testing press — as if to see whether his efforts at maintaining restraint can be so easily crumbled, since he has clearly sought her out to feel her close. She's not even that certain she wants to fuck, either, but if one thing leads to another, it's not as if she'd be wholly against the idea.
Eventually, she does stir softly, but not with a violent jerk or an immediate attempt to get away from him. Whether it's the coolness of his body relative to her own — for she already sleeps with nothing on, nothing but the threadcount of a bedsheet between her bare skin and his — or the fact that she cannot remember the last time anyone merely held her in a bed exactly like this, her first instinct isn't to pull away from it but to curl in more, and perhaps she can even justify it from the sole fact that she isn't fully awake at the moment, that she can pretend this is somewhere between reality and a dreaming state.
She curves back into him, her back fitted to his chest, a sleepy groan rising from her throat without any attempt to stifle it, and her hips venture a testing press — as if to see whether his efforts at maintaining restraint can be so easily crumbled, since he has clearly sought her out to feel her close. She's not even that certain she wants to fuck, either, but if one thing leads to another, it's not as if she'd be wholly against the idea.
[ on the evening of the twenty-first, jaskier sneaks into her apartment while she's away, knowing full well he'll probably set off the wards. that's okay, though. because he leaves behind a small bag with a tag that reads: 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝒶 𝒸ℯ𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝒶𝓏𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 in a careful script she'll probably recognize. inside, and carefully wrapped, are two pieces of jewelry made from what are clearly lute strings. along with them is a small vial of lilac scented oil. there is also a note that reads: ]
ℋ𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓈ℯ 𝒷𝓇ℴ𝓀ℯ𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈 𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒶𝓇ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹. ℐ 𝒻𝒾ℊ𝓊𝓇ℯ𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 ℐ 𝓂𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁 𝓅𝒶𝓌𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂 ℴ𝒻𝒻 ℴ𝓃 𝓎ℴ𝓊. 𝒟ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓉ℴℴ 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉.
- 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒮𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓅𝒾𝓅ℯ𝓇
ℋ𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓈ℯ 𝒷𝓇ℴ𝓀ℯ𝓃 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈 𝓁𝓎𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒶𝓇ℴ𝓊𝓃𝒹. ℐ 𝒻𝒾ℊ𝓊𝓇ℯ𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 ℐ 𝓂𝒾ℊ𝒽𝓉 𝒶𝓈 𝓌ℯ𝓁𝓁 𝓅𝒶𝓌𝓃 𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓂 ℴ𝒻𝒻 ℴ𝓃 𝓎ℴ𝓊. 𝒟ℴ𝓃'𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝓉ℴℴ 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝒷ℴ𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓉.
- 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒮𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓅𝒾𝓅ℯ𝓇
A bright red box with a silver ribbon is delivered to Yen. Inside are pink snowflake sugar cookies and a fun selfie. The back of the picture reads:
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Thank you for being amazing! 💗 Elle
[A winter holiday with gift-giving seems pretty common, so Seg is familiar enough with how this goes. Yennefer will find a package on the kitchen table one morning with her name on it, containing a bottle of good wine and a ring that Seg thought would appeal to her, gold wire and onyx. A handwritten note accompanies it.]
My dear Yennefer,
May the solstice find you warm and safe.
-Segoriel of Astinglen
My dear Yennefer,
May the solstice find you warm and safe.
-Segoriel of Astinglen
[A small parcel wrapped in plain brown paper arrives at her door, a note atop it written in Amelia's elegant hand.]
My dearest sorceress,
May this protect and delight you,
however you see fit.
May the steady hand I stitch in,
remind you of mine always.
[The note is unsigned.
Inside the parcel is a beautifully crafted dagger and matching sheath, wrapped in a black handkerchief with Yennefer stitched into one corner with iridescent purple thread. Petals of dried of lavender and jasmine fall out of the fabric when it's opened.]
My dearest sorceress,
May this protect and delight you,
however you see fit.
May the steady hand I stitch in,
remind you of mine always.
[The note is unsigned.
Inside the parcel is a beautifully crafted dagger and matching sheath, wrapped in a black handkerchief with Yennefer stitched into one corner with iridescent purple thread. Petals of dried of lavender and jasmine fall out of the fabric when it's opened.]
Yennefer's gift is delivered in a deep purple-wrapped box with silver ribbon. The card attached reads: "Happy Christmas, Lady Yennefer. I believe this will look lovely on you. Perhaps I can see it person when you share your magical gifts with me. - J"
[ Apparently, people are supposed to give gifts on Christmas. Dean was a given, Georg's gift a reciprocation, but he's been told you bestow lovelies on people you like. Care about. Plus they've like, kinda fucked a lot.
So.
Now that he has a Dominant, he has access to some funds, a small, shitty job that's likely the equivalent to a convenience store and as such, he sends a pretty little thing, and once he gets a 'delivery notification, he texts- ]
It's from me.
[ so romantic. ]
So.
Now that he has a Dominant, he has access to some funds, a small, shitty job that's likely the equivalent to a convenience store and as such, he sends a pretty little thing, and once he gets a 'delivery notification, he texts- ]
It's from me.
[ so romantic. ]
Edited 2023-01-05 01:29 (UTC)
[ Yennefer had been kind to Will, taking him in as a contract had been a blessing for him. He'd tried his best not to cause her too much trouble but was somehow always on the verge of a citation for something or other. Still, she had been encouragment he needed to behave... Like Hell did he want to end up on her bad side.
With this thought in mind and another thought of how he could ever possibly make it up to her for putting up with him, Will decided to call ahead before announcing himself at her place. ]
Yennefer? Hi, um... It's me. Sorry, it's Will I mean. Hope I've caught you at a convenient time?
With this thought in mind and another thought of how he could ever possibly make it up to her for putting up with him, Will decided to call ahead before announcing himself at her place. ]
Yennefer? Hi, um... It's me. Sorry, it's Will I mean. Hope I've caught you at a convenient time?
I know who it is. [ she does have it in her to sound a bit amused, if mostly confused by the message he's sending to her now. ]
What I don't entirely know is why you're sending a message to me this way when you could approach me in person.
[ unless — the thought occurs to her that he's maintaining the distance between them because he's apprehensive of her reaction. maybe he intends to dissolve the contract, though she's not sure why her mind instinctively goes straight to that possibility. (it's also a possibility that doesn't sit well with her, more than she'd care to admit.) ] Is something the matter?
What I don't entirely know is why you're sending a message to me this way when you could approach me in person.
[ unless — the thought occurs to her that he's maintaining the distance between them because he's apprehensive of her reaction. maybe he intends to dissolve the contract, though she's not sure why her mind instinctively goes straight to that possibility. (it's also a possibility that doesn't sit well with her, more than she'd care to admit.) ] Is something the matter?
[At some point throughout the day, a handwritten letter arrives at the door - or in some unexpected place in one’s office - in a parchment envelope, sealed with the rogues' House seal pressed into a deep forest green wax. Amelia follows up within the hour via text.]
Aloïs and I look forward to seeing you. If you need anything ahead of your arrival, please let me know.
((OOC: Message from Aloïs incoming as well! Feel free to respond to either (or both!) of the rogues.))
Aloïs and I look forward to seeing you. If you need anything ahead of your arrival, please let me know.
((OOC: Message from Aloïs incoming as well! Feel free to respond to either (or both!) of the rogues.))
Edited 2023-03-19 15:34 (UTC)
salut Yennefer.
youll be getting an invite to a party sometime today if you havent already. so you know it falls on Amelias natal day.
im telling people to bring whatever they like or not but thats the score. shes the last to celebrate anything about herself so it falls on the rest of us to do it for her.
youll be getting an invite to a party sometime today if you havent already. so you know it falls on Amelias natal day.
im telling people to bring whatever they like or not but thats the score. shes the last to celebrate anything about herself so it falls on the rest of us to do it for her.
Edited 2023-03-19 15:54 (UTC)
Did the good lady sorceress come back unscathed from the city's trick?
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