Midge is so cute when she blushes; it makes Dick's comment worth it. She's right about the metaphors of the song not being subtle, and Molly and Jaskier are only joking around. They'd love to continue teasing her with dirty lyrics, but now their attention is on something else.
The entire band laughs when Midge calls the elves minors.
"Alright, everyone!" Jaskier announces with open arms. "Time to play 'how old are these fuckers'! Midge!" He points at her. "We'll give you a second chance, and if you do well, I may let you play with Perdita, too. How old are the twins?" He tilts his head as his hands rest on his hips, grinning in anticipation.
The band laughs again while Jaskier's face softens.
"Oh, darling... I feel like I'm torturing you now." After seeing some fantasy books in the library, he thought some myths would be better known. Obviously, he was wrong.
Jaskier puts down his guitar and jumps off the stage to move behind Midge, leaning over her shoulder as he points at the twins. "153 - that's the equivalent of a college student in human years." Then he points at Perdita, who is going to the front door to finally open the bar. "82 - she's a young adult in her culture. Like you." He kisses Midge's cheek as an apology. "Geralt is a little over 100, too. I just realized I never told you that."
“Jeez,” she replies. “Well, they look too young for Leah to lust over, but maybe she knows more about the lives of Elves than I do.” She takes another sip of her martini. “Geralt looks good for his age.”
Midge turns her eyes up to him. “And you, plain old human? I think you said 42, right?”
The band leaves the stage to make their way to the reception, since none of them signed the book. However, they still let out a big oooooh with clear amusement when they hear Midge's comment. The reason soon becomes obvious: Jaskier is gasping and stepping back with a hand on his chest.
"Plain?! Plain, she called me plain! Oh, my vicious lady, what have I done for you to insult me so?" At least, he doesn't sound offended. Just dramatic. "Is my age such a deterrent?" So she got that number right, and under the dramatics, Jaskier is glad.
She grins slyly at his reaction. “How insulting of me. I’m so sorry. In comparison with the Elves and dwarfs and witchers though, we both seem pretty plain.”
Taking her drink and her purse with her, Midge stands up from the table.
“Your age isn’t a deterrent at all,” she continues, “because you don’t look your age either.”
"I don't think you're plain at all. With pointy ears, you could pass off for an elf." He shakes his head in fake disappointment. "Tsk, tsk, such comparisons. You're thinking about Geralt's dick again, aren't you?"
The silly grin turns into a more sincere smile when she says he doesn't mind his age. He already knew this, but it's still nice to hear. Jaskier makes an exaggerated gesture to confirm they're alone and leans in to kiss her softly on the lips.
"Had to check. No deterrent at all indeed." He winks. "Missed you. Thanks for coming, truly. It's great having you here."
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The entire band laughs when Midge calls the elves minors.
"Alright, everyone!" Jaskier announces with open arms. "Time to play 'how old are these fuckers'! Midge!" He points at her. "We'll give you a second chance, and if you do well, I may let you play with Perdita, too. How old are the twins?" He tilts his head as his hands rest on his hips, grinning in anticipation.
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“Just by looking at them I would say 14, but I guess I’m way off.” She sighs. This is going to be a complete stab in the dark. “35?”
She knows nothing about Elves.
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"Oh, darling... I feel like I'm torturing you now." After seeing some fantasy books in the library, he thought some myths would be better known. Obviously, he was wrong.
Jaskier puts down his guitar and jumps off the stage to move behind Midge, leaning over her shoulder as he points at the twins. "153 - that's the equivalent of a college student in human years." Then he points at Perdita, who is going to the front door to finally open the bar. "82 - she's a young adult in her culture. Like you." He kisses Midge's cheek as an apology. "Geralt is a little over 100, too. I just realized I never told you that."
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Midge turns her eyes up to him. “And you, plain old human? I think you said 42, right?”
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"Plain?! Plain, she called me plain! Oh, my vicious lady, what have I done for you to insult me so?" At least, he doesn't sound offended. Just dramatic. "Is my age such a deterrent?" So she got that number right, and under the dramatics, Jaskier is glad.
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Taking her drink and her purse with her, Midge stands up from the table.
“Your age isn’t a deterrent at all,” she continues, “because you don’t look your age either.”
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The silly grin turns into a more sincere smile when she says he doesn't mind his age. He already knew this, but it's still nice to hear. Jaskier makes an exaggerated gesture to confirm they're alone and leans in to kiss her softly on the lips.
"Had to check. No deterrent at all indeed." He winks. "Missed you. Thanks for coming, truly. It's great having you here."