a heavy hitter and a silent killer

[wickedprayers]

[ Thane wasn't quite used to not being cooped up in a room with his only view of the outside world being through reinforced glass. And the "outside view" was just more white walls and scientists. Needless to say, this has so far been an adjustment.

He decides to take advantage, which is why he's standing outside, along the walkways, taking in the ocean air as if he were breathing in air from the heavens themselves. The humid air is harsh on his lungs, and reminds him of the tests they would run on him that ultimately led to his breathing troubles, but it's also a reminder that he's alive, unlike the others.

He's almost as still as a statue, webbed hands folded behind his back, shoulders squared, eyes surveying the horizon as if he were watching out for something.]

Comments

[licensetotrill]

[ A bow! How novel. Though Jaskier suddenly wonders if that's where he got his manners. Time will tell, he figures. He'll give a polite bow in return, with a bit more flourish. It's Jaskier, after all. ]

Thane, a pleasure. I go by Jaskier. Not that that matters much anymore.

[ He sighs. Dramatically. ]

[wickedprayers]

[ Interesting, getting a bow in return. A pleasant surprise, indeed.

Thane gives a tilt of his head. ]

Why wouldn't it? [ he asks curiously. ] One would think it matters now, more than ever.

[ To keep hold of your identity, that is. ]

[licensetotrill]

Well! Isn't that terribly philosophical?

[ But Jaskier seems amused by that, a small smile on his face. ]

I used to be quite famous, and nobody here knows who I am is all. I didn't think fame had gone to my head but I suppose I was incorrect.

[ He takes another drink from the flask before holding it out to Thane in offering. ]