“Her tits look very uncomfortable,” Midge agrees. “Bras and girdles are bad enough. Corsets are torture.”
She turns to Ciri as they walk to the next gallery. “Sounds like my Bubbe, or grandmother. She wasn’t very nice towards the end, but I think she was in a lot of pain.”
That’s not quite the same situation as Ciri’s grandmother, but Midge is trying to sympathize.
This conversation has definitely taken a turn. Jakier wonders if he should've brought up Cirilla's childhood at all, but it's not like she minded answering his question. She comes closer and searches for his hand, so Jaskier holds it gently and gives it a comforting squeeze.
"So she got sick? And before that, she was nice?" Ciri asks Midge while staying glued to Jaskier. "Do you have good memories of her?"
Poor thing. The way she reaches for Jaskier’s hand is so sweet.
“I do,” Midge replies. “She taught me to cook some things, and she always used to tell me Russian folk tales. That’s how I got interested in Russian Literature.”
“Cooking is fun sometimes,” Midge says. “It’s nice that you have a lot of other people in your house to help with it.” Thats not the case for most housewives.
She gives Jaskier a pointed look. “Do you know how to cook?”
"What's with all the judging?" he asks, his offence clearly exaggerated for the sake of dramatics. "I know SOME stuff! I told you about my stew and Geralt teaching me how to clean a fish and rabbits. And don't get me started on the squirrels."
Ciri groans in frustration. "Not the squirrel story again..."
"That shall be our next date, then. No squirrel, I can't even think about those little fuckers anymore." Ciri rolls her eyes, since clearly he doesn't mind thinking about them if it means sharing the fucking story.
The Impressionism section is indeed beautiful and they don't know where to put their eyes first. Luckily, Midge knows exactly what to do. Jaskier stares at the painting in pure amazement and miraculously stays silent for a few minutes, taking it in.
"...stunning," he finally says. "That starry night - you painted stars that, like you, are light years away from anyone else. Looking on the serene village scene from an insurmountable distance for you saw things, like no one before, nor since."
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She turns to Ciri as they walk to the next gallery. “Sounds like my Bubbe, or grandmother. She wasn’t very nice towards the end, but I think she was in a lot of pain.”
That’s not quite the same situation as Ciri’s grandmother, but Midge is trying to sympathize.
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"So she got sick? And before that, she was nice?" Ciri asks Midge while staying glued to Jaskier. "Do you have good memories of her?"
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“I do,” Midge replies. “She taught me to cook some things, and she always used to tell me Russian folk tales. That’s how I got interested in Russian Literature.”
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"You just want to avoid chores," Jaskier teases.
"That's not true!" Ciri pouts and pulls at Jaskier's arm, but he only laughs.
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She gives Jaskier a pointed look. “Do you know how to cook?”
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"What's with all the judging?" he asks, his offence clearly exaggerated for the sake of dramatics. "I know SOME stuff! I told you about my stew and Geralt teaching me how to clean a fish and rabbits. And don't get me started on the squirrels."
Ciri groans in frustration. "Not the squirrel story again..."
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They move on to Impressionism and Midge smiles.
“Aren’t these beautiful? I’m going to show you one of the most famous paintings in the world.”
Moments later, they’re standing in front of Van Gogh’s Starry Night.
(by John Watt)
The Impressionism section is indeed beautiful and they don't know where to put their eyes first. Luckily, Midge knows exactly what to do. Jaskier stares at the painting in pure amazement and miraculously stays silent for a few minutes, taking it in.
"...stunning," he finally says. "That starry night - you painted stars that, like you, are light years away from anyone else. Looking on the serene village scene from an insurmountable distance for you saw things, like no one before, nor since."