i. not your bed

( in truth, julian alfred pankratz (better known as jaskier), is used to waking up in foreign beds. many different beds. sometimes he doesn't even remember how he got there. usually, though, that involves ale. a lot of ale.

usually he's also not alone. he snorts, pressing his face into the pillow and wondering what in the name of the confleunce did he drink last night. the dream he had? well, jaskier's not one to make foolish deals with magical items. he knows better (he certainly does not!)

he stands up, wrapping a blanket around himself and instead of questioning where he is as a sane man might, stumbles forward. he feels drunk on ale still, so it sends him tumbling into another bed where a body seems to be occupying it with the grace of a baby fawn, but no awkward scream. definitely not a high pitched one, no. )

v. the sunlit room

( space.

jaskier doesn't even know what it really means. they are amongst the stars in a metal box, a castle of sorts and everything is either real or an illusion. it shouldn't be surprising, no, given the two decades he's had.

but there's no geralt here or anyone else he recognizes that he can mis-blame for this adventure. admittedly, jaskier has been trying not to blame others for his own misfortunes, for his own adventures. was that not why he'd taken on the title of 'sandpiper' and tried his hand and doing something on his own. it had meant something to people, had been his own path forced out of petty bitterness.

yet, it had been his.

maybe this can be his too, the bard thinks as he leans against the railing of a bridge over a frozen pond. there's no reason not to make it his own, to see what he can bring to the table. after all, he'd managed without the help of a certain witcher for how long? he's capable at his age. not bitter, not bitter at all. no.

he can make new friends, has made them. so he turns as he hears footsteps approach, slaps a grin on his face. ) So. Are you new here?

If not, what do you all do here for fun? There is something fun to do here on this ship? Ale? Music? No death and destruction? ( welcome to jaskier, you poor soul. )

x. up in the club

( the silvery skin and wings are new. jaskier's still trying to get use to the way the wings shift and flutter with his moods, the way that he can't quite tuck them away.

he's supposed to be here on a mission but, ever the hedonist, he's gotten distracted with ale and music along the way. so he's flirting with the simulation locals, batting his eyes at the different people he can't tell are real or not.

so poor soul near by, when he's done wiping a drink he's gotten thrown in his face he turns to you. one wing, feathered and silver, wraps around the nearest person close to him and pulls them close. ) So what can I do convince you to join me on stage for a song? I am quite the singer you know but I need back-up.

wildcard.

( ooc: feel free to pm if you'd like something specific but otherwise, feel free to throw anything my way. will be testing out various canon-points, either post-season 2 or mid-season 2 when he's chilling in a jail cell. )