IT'S ALL LIES, DARLING

        “ I could write dozens – nay, hundreds! – of poems and ballads about you, my dearest muse, but no words could ever accurately capture your beauty, your wit, your passion. ”  The bard laments, staring at @liarbled across the table with glassy eyes, half-hooded.  Littered around him, scattered across the table at which he sits and discarded around the room, lie the fruits of his labor.  The scratchings and musings of a lovesick fool, many of which have been furiously scribbled out or torn apart.  Jaskier’s appearance is even more disheveled than his lodgings, his shirt only partially buttoned and his hair unkempt.  “ And believe me, it is not for lack of trying. ”

   ❛          ━━          we  did  not  !      ❜          it’s  comical  almost.     twice  her  size  & yet  she  still attempts  to  change  his  mind.  (  &  she  cannot  cry  -  giving  any  credit  to  the  name  TINY  TEARS.  )          ❛    james  would  never  .  .  .  he’s  proper.      respectable !  and  he’d  never  dream  of  doing  something  so  indecent. ❜              eden  takes  a  breath.    a  manicured  nail  is  pointed  at  him,      before  she  pulls  her  secret  weapon.      ❛    yeongmi !        ━━      tell  him  he’s  being  terrible  !   he’s  bullying  me !        ❜  

@liarbled·

*            AN   ARMY   DETTLAFF   WOULD   REQUIRE.    vampires of all kinds,   lesser and higher in mass multitudes.   katakans,  ekimmaras,  alps,   garkains,  other bruxae;   he’d summon them all to come to his aid.   𝖆   𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖓   𝖙𝖔   𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖒   𝖙𝖍𝖊   𝖈𝖎𝖙𝖞;   wreak havoc and force the duchess to surrender the wench they called syanna.   dettlaff would not rest til he struck his hand into her breast,   to find out of there truly was a heart that beat within.   once upon a time,   he had been fooled to believe otherwise;      ❛     your   aid   is   both   welcomed   and   appreciated.   as  long  as  it  does  not  hinder  your  own  ambitions.    ❜     he tells the bruxa,   with what warmth was left within his bitter voice.     ❛    my   faith   lies   only   with   my   own   kin.   i’ll   not   make   the   same   mistake   again.     ❜ 

         broad shoulders saunter to a ruined wall,   gazing toward the castle beyond the rivers of dun tynne as yeongmi offers her apologies.   for   it   is   he   who   was   sorry.    sorry that he had allowed himself to be swindled by a human,   one who he had freely offered his heart to.   knowing that the   𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅   𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔   reside beyond those waters made his blood boil;   consumed by his own rage.   he finds himself hissing through gritted teeth as his gaze turns back toward his kin,      ❛     …    𝖘𝖍𝖊  𝖍𝖆𝖘  𝖘𝖊𝖊𝖓  𝖓𝖔  𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖙.   syanna   will   pay   dearly,   with  her  life.    ❜     

𝐈𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐍,      this offer of hers.     though in truth,     the opportunity to let go of all caution in the protection of many of their kind is a thrilling thought.      he seems far away,     this man bubbling a quiet potion of ice cold fury.     yeongmi does naught but observe,     save for a slight cant of her chin,    allowing for dark hair to fall forward over her shoulders.       ❛   i have been building,     but for what ?     𝐢’𝐦 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬    ...    and i’ve not much to loose,     dettlaff.    you needn’t worry about me.   ❜     indeed,    what was she working toward ?     a place at a court she knows holds no power at all,     is naught but a play for the whims of a duchess that drowns herself in glory and wine ?

TRUTHFULLY, ARIANRHOD HATED TOUSSAINT. if the people weren’t turning their nose up at their accent, then they were gawking at arian by nature of simply being a witcher- not that they weren’t used to such treatment, but there was something that made their skin crawl when these southern folks did it. so- being surrounded by a bunch of toussaintois was somehow less warming of a thought than it might normally provide: that being not very warm at all.

     “a walk sounds fine, yeh”, they nod, the compliment making their shoulders tense for just a moment; it didn’t matter how long it’d been, they never could quite get comfortable with receiving compliments from women. nothing against them, of course, but- the kraken took after their old uncle in more ways than one. “aye, yeh could say ah’ve got questions. but let’s go on that walk, first. ah’ll even let yeh lead th’way.” it was no contract, nor suspicion that brought them here- but a medallion humming was at the very least a good enough indicator that something was afoot, and that? that was enough to pique their interest in her. ( at least- not in the way she seemed interested in them. )

𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆,     to say the least,     this curiousity the stranger radiates.     it ought to be nipped in the bud,    lest she find herself at the opposite end of silver yet again.     after all,    is she not meant to be undetectable,    so easily hidden for she makes no use of magic ?     it leaves her curious,   too,    if more anxiously so.      everything screams for her to run,    yet that would be all the more suspicious,    and she is not quite so desperate just yet.

     𝙏𝙍𝙐𝙏𝙃 𝘽𝙀 𝙏𝙊𝙇𝘿, 𝙄𝙏'𝙎 𝙁𝘼𝙍 𝙁𝙍𝙊𝙈 the worst fete she’s ever attended, though the evening has progressed long enough that the telltale restlessness in her begins to stir, an unyielding desire to slip away from the crowds milling about throughout the estate and find some place quiet and calm. such wishes are hidden from view, of course, behind a placid smile and the glass of wine held delicately in her hand. 

   dark gaze spies a face she hasn’t seen innumerable times at court, which makes it an intriguing one, and there’s a slight tilt of her head as celine recognizes it. slipping past yet another knight errant, (there’s so many of them, the sorceress can’t help but think,) a small but undeniably curious smile flickers onto her lips. “you must’ve made a customer quite happy to secure an invitation this evening,” a hand flicks lightly towards the bustling room, bursting with nobility and emissaries and merchants, “though every purchase i’ve made from you has been more than satisfactory.”

@liarbled·

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐘'𝐒 𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍,     and to taste it is a thrill.      she has become a master of the mask,    to wear a smile devoid of viciousness and speak of politics and trade,     feigning even interest whatever cultural event is upcoming.     yeongmi’s companion has gotten lost in the crowd,     had excused himself with a faint kiss to the back of her hand and she let him wander,     perfectly happy for the opportunity to survey the guests herself.