The musician reaches across the table for Geralt's wrist and his hand feels warm against his skin, makes him feel like he isn't sure if he wants to pull his hand away or get more of that touch. His eyebrows pinch together for a moment before he takes his seat again, and it's only because he doesn't have his fucking keys. Can't go anywhere with his keys in Eskel's pocket.
He's only just back in his chair when some man approaches, asking for Jaskier. Some representative of a record label, and Geralt comes to the same conclusion as the musician-- this guy's here to talk about setting up a deal. Apparently his company wants to expand into a younger market, and someone like Jaskier would be right up their alley. This could possibly be the musician's big break, his first chance to get out of the small-time circuit and start getting real gigs. Jaskier's practically falling over himself to stand up, and Eskel has to catch his chair and right it before it hits the floor.
If only the guy weren't such a fucking unrepentant prick.
Jaskier's standing next to the table and he looks... well, honestly, like he might throw up all over his own hipster shoes, but he looks eager and wanting up until the moment the rep wants to talk to him about his image. Geralt's not even in this industry and he thinks he knows what that means, and so do his brothers, going by the furrow in Eskel's brow and the sharp twist of Lambert's mouth. The guy tries to break it nicely, tries to dress up what he wants Jaskier to do in mild words so that it doesn't sound as bad, but they all know what it is-- they want Jaskier to be less. Less of who he is, because it doesn't fit in with the morals of their current demographics and all they care about is marketability and bottom lines.
Ultimately, the musician tells him to fuck off. Rips up his business card and throws it in his face and righteous fury isn't a bad look on him.
"What a fucking jackass," Lambert says as the aforementioned jackass leaves in a huff.
"Hey, are you--" Eskel starts as Jaskier starts pulling the collar of his cape up higher on his face, and he's abruptly cut off as the musician makes a high, distressed noise into the fabric.
Geralt stands and puts a hand on Jaskier's elbow.
"Jaskier," he says, trying to sound... well, he's not exactly the most soothing person around, but it looks like the musician's in the middle of a panic attack and he'd kind of like for him to be doing literally anything but that. "Jaskier, it's all right. Breathe."
no subject
He's only just back in his chair when some man approaches, asking for Jaskier. Some representative of a record label, and Geralt comes to the same conclusion as the musician-- this guy's here to talk about setting up a deal. Apparently his company wants to expand into a younger market, and someone like Jaskier would be right up their alley. This could possibly be the musician's big break, his first chance to get out of the small-time circuit and start getting real gigs. Jaskier's practically falling over himself to stand up, and Eskel has to catch his chair and right it before it hits the floor.
If only the guy weren't such a fucking unrepentant prick.
Jaskier's standing next to the table and he looks... well, honestly, like he might throw up all over his own hipster shoes, but he looks eager and wanting up until the moment the rep wants to talk to him about his image. Geralt's not even in this industry and he thinks he knows what that means, and so do his brothers, going by the furrow in Eskel's brow and the sharp twist of Lambert's mouth. The guy tries to break it nicely, tries to dress up what he wants Jaskier to do in mild words so that it doesn't sound as bad, but they all know what it is-- they want Jaskier to be less. Less of who he is, because it doesn't fit in with the morals of their current demographics and all they care about is marketability and bottom lines.
Ultimately, the musician tells him to fuck off. Rips up his business card and throws it in his face and righteous fury isn't a bad look on him.
"What a fucking jackass," Lambert says as the aforementioned jackass leaves in a huff.
"Hey, are you--" Eskel starts as Jaskier starts pulling the collar of his cape up higher on his face, and he's abruptly cut off as the musician makes a high, distressed noise into the fabric.
Geralt stands and puts a hand on Jaskier's elbow.
"Jaskier," he says, trying to sound... well, he's not exactly the most soothing person around, but it looks like the musician's in the middle of a panic attack and he'd kind of like for him to be doing literally anything but that. "Jaskier, it's all right. Breathe."