Elder Blood Witcher - 820 Accidental rio

Reima looks around and spots the Nilfgaardian commanders corpse on the floor nearby, it’s neck bent at an awkward angle with both arms missing. Turning he spots Ciri sitting on a lawn chair she’d presumably brought out from her Bottomless box, sitting next to her was something Reima had thought was a scarecrow at first glance… But upon closer inspection he quickly realised that wasn’t the case.

Ciri had skewered Olgierd’s torso onto a cross, attaching the arms separately on the ends of it with his head at the top… It looked incredibly gruesome but Reima wasn’t phased, he himself had done much worse to many others in the past.

Reima “Er, Ciri? What’s with the modern art?” he gestures towards it.

Ciri smiles at him, “He wouldn’t stop talking so I played around a bit.” she says, slowly getting to her feet and walking towards him. He jumps at him and takes his lips, Reima not refusing her sudden and slightly inappropriate for the situation kiss.

The two stayed locked in each other’s embrace for a couple minutes before Ciri finally lets go to breath, Reima keeps his hands on her waist as he continues to look into her eyes.

Reima grins, “No trouble with those goons?” he asks, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Ciri herself.

Ciri “None at all, I was more worried about how you were handling… That guy literally stopped time and was responsible for what happened to our ancestor.” he says.

Reima “We won’t have to worry about him anymore, I watched as he died… There’s no chance that he’s going to come back like Goku or Superman.”

…

Ciri “Goku?”

Reima shakes his head, “Ignore it, I’m tired… I think I wanna drink.” he mutters, wondering when was the last time they’d had a party. “Hinky!?” he calls, the elf popping in and looking at him expectantly. “Gather some House Elves and loot anything usable from the battlefield. If you find any survivors just take them to the prisons, don’t bother healing their wounds either… Let them suffer…” he says, glancing at the artillery that Nilfgaard had brought, while yes, most are currently either on fire or reduced to ashes, some could still be repaired and made useful. “Ah! Also, could you tell anyone available to meet at San’s club… Drinks are on me.”

Hinky quickly nods and pops away to gather a veritable army of midgets to loot the many, many horrifically burned corpses.

Ciri pulls his arm off of her ass and back onto her waist while giving him a glare, “Not in public.” she quietly says.

Reima “It’s a bit late to start acting self-conscious Ciri.” he snarks, getting his side pinched in response.

They walk up and take a seat close to the stage, the club’s lights were all on making the place look more like a restaurant than a comedy club right now… The sound of light footsteps signals San’s arrival… He steps out from the backroom and looks at the duo, “Eh? Didn’t expect to see you two here… I’d tell you we’re close but Undyne would have my skull if I did. So… Welcome?”

Reima “Don’t get your slippers in a twist Sans, I’m just here to drink and rest… I hope you don’t mind if I invited some friends?”

Sans shrugs, “More business for me but… If your friend Kuretz comes, try to keep him quiet. Last time he ruined three acts by shouting at the new comedians.”

Reima nods, stands, and walks over to the bar to help himself to some drinks… As the store hadn’t opened yet the barman wasn’t there, allowing Reima to just help himself… Of course he paid, for what he took, he wasn’t a complete ass hole…

Eventually it was time for the club to open, the lights dimmed as the staff got ready to receive customers, and the comedians came in through the backroom to prepare their material.

“Reima, Ciri?” a voice asks, causing the duo to turn.

At the door were many, many people, apparently Hinky had taken his order “Invite anyone available” literally… It looked as if the entire town had shown up, almost everyone he knew from Hogwarts, Lordran, Raslan, the underground, and the continent was there… He felt pretty overwhelmed at the fact all of them were staring at him with intensity. The reason for this was probably the fact that everyone had heard about him going off alone to face the Nilfgaardian army.

With him just sitting back casually enjoying a drink in the comedy club most weren’t sure whether they were told the truth or not.

Regardless on whether their King had just defeated an army single-handidly, there was something more important than that… The fact that the elf had said “Drinks were on him”.

Grillby had been peacefully cleaning some glasses when a stampede of humans, elves, dwarves, monsters, and wizards charged him, all shouting out their various orders… Clearly, this was going to be one of “those” nights.

Sans had been watching at the side to see the turn out for today, and had almost grown eyes just so they could roll out of their sockets. THE COMEDY CLUB WASN’T EVEN BIG ENOUGH FOR ALL THOSE PEOPLE!