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chapter update on Little Fishie, featuring Feral Disaster Brat Jaskier and his uncanny ability to turn the brat feature on and off at will like a tap, and replace it with Poetry Nerd Jaskier when possible.
This also has the eyeshine snippet I posted earlier in it, and a mention of Geralt’s distressing new striga throat-scar, and a straight-from-the-textbook explanation of the difference between synecdoche and metonymy because my English major ass didn’t know either and I had to look it up.
“You realize that was the Duke’s son and his cronies,” Jaskier went on, “so my odds of getting arrested are quite high?”
“Ah,” Geralt said. “You mean, the one whose face you broke with your skull?”
“The very same,” Jaskier said. He pulled himself together and trotted off down the street, his direction unerring and his movements confident despite a certain reeling quality to them that pointed up how extremely intoxicated he was.
“That’s a problem, Jaskier,” Geralt said.
“Well, you probably shouldn’t have involved yourself,” Jaskier said. “Apologies, but he’s likely to want to blame you rather than admitting I did it.” He clicked his tongue scoldingly. “Tsk. A shame. After all the work I’ve done trying to rehab your reputation.”
“I need to come back here to get paid, tomorrow,” Geralt said, exasperated.
“Mm,” Jaskier said, turning as Geralt caught up to him. He patted Geralt on the chest. “No problem: tell them you killed me, too.”
chapter update on Little Fishie, featuring Feral Disaster Brat Jaskier and his uncanny ability to turn the brat feature on and off at will like a tap, and replace it with Poetry Nerd Jaskier when possible.
This also has the eyeshine snippet I posted earlier in it, and a mention of Geralt’s distressing new striga throat-scar, and a straight-from-the-textbook explanation of the difference between synecdoche and metonymy because my English major ass didn’t know either and I had to look it up.
“You realize that was the Duke’s son and his cronies,” Jaskier went on, “so my odds of getting arrested are quite high?”
“Ah,” Geralt said. “You mean, the one whose face you broke with your skull?”
“The very same,” Jaskier said. He pulled himself together and trotted off down the street, his direction unerring and his movements confident despite a certain reeling quality to them that pointed up how extremely intoxicated he was.
“That’s a problem, Jaskier,” Geralt said.
“Well, you probably shouldn’t have involved yourself,” Jaskier said. “Apologies, but he’s likely to want to blame you rather than admitting I did it.” He clicked his tongue scoldingly. “Tsk. A shame. After all the work I’ve done trying to rehab your reputation.”
“I need to come back here to get paid, tomorrow,” Geralt said, exasperated.
“Mm,” Jaskier said, turning as Geralt caught up to him. He patted Geralt on the chest. “No problem: tell them you killed me, too.”