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    Summary

    “Fresh meat,” Yen mutters, perched against one of the folding tables, knees spread. She punctuates it with a snap of her bubble gum.

    Geralt folds his arms across his chest, eyebrow raised. “This is a low-tier Magic tournament, Yen, not a grade school playground.”

    “Doesn’t make him not fresh meat. He’s gonna last five minutes, tops. Someone is gonna OTK that poor bastard.”

    Or: I made a bad addition to a tumblr post and then found myself writing a ficlet about Geralt and Jaskier meeting at a Magic: the Gathering tournament for which Geralt is Very Prepared and in which Jaskier has No Business At All participating. They both end up having a good time, eventually, but it starts off a little rocky.

    Language:
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