maskormenacelogs | whats better than this

WHO: Jaskier and Rupert, thot extraordinaires
WHERE: Maurtia Falls and onwards
WHEN: At some point in time
WHAT: Rupert takes Jask out to karaoke, but things can never go smoothly for them
WARNINGS: Singing, rude words, two hussies being himbos, will update if needed

[ It had barely been a month since Jaskier's arrival into this new and exciting world, but he'd still managed to cram all manner of new experiences, scrambling up steep learning curves and enjoying nearly every second of it. He'd sat in a car, binge watched TV, made attempts at playing new instruments and even experimented with the fine art of using emotes in text, but tonight was something truly special. And not just because he was to be taken out by an all too handsome man.

Karaoke wasn't an unfamiliar word to him at this point, but he'd yet to encounter it first hand. A travesty, really, considering his absolute adoration when it comes to do with any sort of singing and attention being on him. Sure, he'd busked in front of growing crowds and sang his heart out at a few small cafes and bars, but he'd not done karaoke in it's purest form, not been able to experience cheesy instrumental versions of songs, barely readable words and terrible song picks, while everyone around gets increasingly more drunk.

He's already started on the booze in fact, risking sipping at a dark red wine as he waits, all dressed up in something a little more modern and trying his best to get with the time. The glass settled near his feet when he wasn't drinking, allowing him the space to balance his beloved lute in his lap and lazily pluck at it's strings, humming out melodies between dramatic sighs.

Jaskier isn't known for his patience. ]

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[ As much as Jaskier isn't known for his patience, neither is Rupert known for being on time. A whole twenty two minutes after their agreed rendezvous, Hentzau unhurriedly tears open a noisy portal in the middle of Jaskier's bedroom and steps through looking entirely unconcerned about how late he is. ]

Hello, you, [ He says brightly, jamming his hands into each pocket of his artfully distressed leather jacket. Hentzau's dressed as he usually is for a night out: painfully skinny jeans, boots worth a small fortune, and an indecently low-cut v-neck shirt. He regards Jaskier expectantly. ]

Ready to serenade the masses, I hope?

[ Jaskier doesn't seem too concerned with the portal ripping into existence in his room, too busy with sprawling out woefully on his bed like he might just wither away at any moment, lute settled lovingly on his chest. ]

Oh gods, I was about ready to expire...

[ Yeah, it's cool, just leave him hanging for all that time. Rupert's easily forgiven though, the bard swiftly sitting up with a grunt of effort and then raising to his feet, casting his instrument aside delicately. His own outfit opts for the skinny jeans and pricey boots as well, although he's decked in a fancy shirt, waistcoat and blazer combo instead. Apparently "smart/casual" is a thing he should be aiming for, according to the several tailors he's visited, whatever the fuck that means.

Naturally Rupert gets a once or twice over. ]

You owe me at least a wine for that wait.

One wine, ten wines, whatever you so desire, [ Hentzau replies with an airy handwave; he's fully aware of his own shortcomings and, yes, time-keeping is one of them. And just as Jaskier gives him the once over, so Hentzau returns the favour: he inspects the other man from toe (leather boots, yes, good) to tip (a collared shirt? less good.) with a keen, appraising eye.

Hmm. He leans in, extends a hand, and deftly flicks open an extra button on Jaskier's shirt with an expert thumb and forefinger. Maximum wantonness. Hentzau nods to himself; yes, that's an improvement. ]

Ready?

[ After Rupert's little intervention, Jaskier lifts his own hand towards his shirt, but rather than do the button back up he undoes several more, all the way down to the V-line of his waistcoat. Usually he saves the chest baring for much later in the night, but if Rupert wants then he shall get. Who is Jaskier to deny the man the sight of his furry chest? ]

Extremely. Portals, is it? I suppose I should I be grateful I didn't start drinking too early, I hear they can be quite... unsettling...

[ And he don't wanna barf on either of their fancy boots. ]

Nonsense. Perfectly tame, my portals.

[ With an elaborate flourish, Hentzau ushes Jaskier towards the portal and the scene beyond it - a side street in deepest, darkest De Chima lit by a few lamp posts in the early evening dusk. A few overflowing bins, a skip, a few oily puddles reflecting a half crescent moon. It's not the most attractive scene, but it's hardly their final destination.

Hentzau hops easily through, landing gracefully in the street, then extends a hand to help Jaskier through the strange door across the country. ]

If you are going to empty your stomach, though, do aim towards the gutter?

[ He still holds some hesitation towards the concept of portals, having heard plenty of horror stories back home of inexperienced magic users accidentally slicing themselves in half or sending themselves into precarious and sometimes deadly places, but Rupert's strange door shows a sight that looks all too harmless. Despite the unnatural light and the very plastic bin bags, this unappealing street could be one of many in Vizima, Oxenfurt or Novigrad.

With a soft exhale to steel his nerves, Jaskier reaches forward to take Hentzau's hand and steps forth, bringing him from the warmth of his bedroom to the cool air of De Chima. It's jarring and stomach turning, but he's not in two separate pieces or transported inside a wall, so rather than puke up his dinner, he's chuckling in delight. ]

Oh, I think we're safe from that. Gods, though, this could be extremely convenient... [ Now he's just thinking of all the nefarious things he can do with such a power at his (sort of) disposal. Thinking with portals. ]

So! Where to first, my modern-day expert?

Extremely convenient, [ Hentzau repeats with an earnest nod. He turns his attention back to the portal itself, lifting his hands and apparently massaging thin air as he feels out the torn edges of reality and smooths them back together. The window distorts, shrinking little by little as Rupert diligently reseals the weird void with short, sweeping gestures. ]

Especially when it comes to swift escapes of the early morning variety...

[ There. After only few seconds of work the void has been neatly sealed. Hentzau turns with a grin and sweeps a bow towards the alleyway mouth, beyond where the portal had hung in mid-air. ]

Onwards! The bar is just around the corner. [ In a dramatic aside, he whispers: ] I've been asked to refrain from portalling directly inside. The - [ airquotes, because he knows what airquotes are: ] - "bouncers" don't find it all that amusing.

whats better than this

A MILLION YEARS LATER sorry bb

u were just method rping

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