twatter: (Default)
technical boy ([personal profile] twatter) wrote2027-08-09 07:10 pm

IC CONTACT



TEXT ME.
bardicdisaster: (222)

[personal profile] bardicdisaster 2023-07-29 12:42 am (UTC)(link)
[There's a light squeeze to Tech's hand as they begin to walk the path home again. It's as much a gentle reassurance of the realness of this moment to the both of them as each of their embraces and kisses thus far has been albeit likely a touch more understated by comparison given it's a far less significant disruption to their walking together. Jaskier doesn't pay quite as much mind to where they're going and watches their feet more than anything, leaving the direction of where they're heading and avoiding any tripping hazards more or less entirely up to Tech. Jaskier's too lost in the sound of Tech's voice alone. He follows along Tech's cadence, the way his accent shifts and pulls at the vowels all the while not letting the words be entirely lost to him.]

[He lifts his gaze, offering Tech a faint smile.]


Having once been myself at a younger age and my persistent inability to let well enough alone back then... [he says as though the same were not still true of him even now despite the fact it very much is, just in a different form at times.] I will likely find it eventually. And I'll probably be nosy enough to read it.

But, darling, don't underestimate my ability to understand. [He gives another squeeze to Tech's hand.] I was as much a poet back then as I am now.

[Which isn't Jaskier's way of commenting upon his ability to perspective take so much as it is he understands words better than most. So, even if there are things that Tech has written to Jaskier in this journal of his that lack context, that would leave a younger Jaskier who hadn't lived through this time with Tech a bit lost with some of the finer details, Jaskier is confident he'll understand. He'll realize what isn't being said, and know that whatever hurts he might find within those pages are things that Jaskier will have manifested for himself out of jealousy or insecurity. He'll know that what Tech has written will be nothing short of love with enough time.]

[Jaskier hums in light amusement, the sound not quite making it into a laugh as the corners of his lips lift into a wider smile.]


I always thought that was such a pain in the arse when I was younger. Being underestimated, I mean. People knew I wasn't a good student. I loathed hard work of any sort. I was flighty. Prone to fits of passion and flitting off to whatever or whoever next I fancied, [he says, his free hand drifting off as if to follow this image of himself to wherever next he might wander.] I never seemed to care about much of anything either. Not anything anyone considered truly important, anyway.

Now, I don't mind it so much. Partially because some of that is true and I don't much care to have anything asked of me that would require too much effort, [he says with a teasing grin as he lightly swings their hand together. It's not exactly a secret with how often Jaskier's managed to avoid the majority of housework in the time they've been together, so he hardly has any qualms about admitting it to Tech even if he would otherwise begin squawking with offense at the accusation.] But I don't know. I suppose part of it is... Well, people are so much easier to be themselves when they believe they've worked the other person out.

[And all the better if they think Jaskier frivolous or careless in some capacity. Then it's all the more reason for them to not maintain whatever walls or defenses they might otherwise, and Jaskier is able to do whatever it is he needs or wants to do from there. Be it to provide them with what they truly need or draw inspiration or even simply to survive.]

[He wrinkles his nose.]


Gods, you've got me waxing nostalgic about my youth. Must you age me so? You could have waited at least another hour!
bardicdisaster: (98)

[personal profile] bardicdisaster 2023-12-08 06:23 am (UTC)(link)
[When Tech has them deviate, Jaskier stays with him and doesn't try to impede their progress towards the gardens of the park despite the glance back toward the path home. He rolls his eyes a little as Tech claims to be a complete fucking moron, but doesn't argue against the assertion because he knows ultimately what Tech means: he's brilliant, but he's often a fool who misses the obvious details that would bring it all together for himself. As Tech moves ahead to clear the dried brush aside, Jaskier uses the moment to continue assessing just how much of the park had dried and shriveled. Not that some of the plants didn't have a bit of a grotesque nature about them, but the greenery had been a nice change of pace compared to most parts of Hell. It was a shame to see the park in such shambles and nothing more than another reflection of death and decay.]

[Jaskier's attention is drawn from their surroundings when Tech calls for it on the small bloom at their feet.]


My, I must have really left an impression on you after all. I've got you speaking in metaphors now. [It's a light tease, and one that could easily be taken for a deflection of Tech's sentiment. It wouldn't be all that uncharacteristic for him to do as much. Those more abstract compliments are rarely ever ones that Jaskier allows to settle and stand without protest because they never feel as though they suit him. He's the storyteller, after all. Not the hero. But he doesn't brush it aside so easily now. Jaskier gently pulls Tech closer to him again to rest his forehead against his.] It's nice hearing you talk like this again, my darling...

[It feels as though it had been so long since Tech had even a hint of hope in his voice again. After Ava left... Well, it had been understandable so much of his faith in any semblance of a future being built because of their ability to defy the odds had been shaken, but it had hurt. It had hurt so much to feel Tech fading and drifting from him, and feeling so helpless to stop any of it. But now? Now, Tech is here and he's as vibrant as the buttercup pushing back against the decay of the land. He's not giving into wallowing in grief or allowing his hope to abandon him in this place.]

I was... I was scared you had given up. On this dream of ours. [There's a small pause before he ventures and pushes himself a little further to say,] On me.