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To talk to him in person, you'll need to be in Cadens or go to his domain, a snowy mountain fortress. Yard is open; doors are locked. If he isn't around, leave a delivery with the white wolf.
To talk to him in person, you'll need to be in Cadens or go to his domain, a snowy mountain fortress. Yard is open; doors are locked. If he isn't around, leave a delivery with the white wolf.
Estinien pauses in Geralt's domain for two reasons: the first being that it's changed since their first foray into the horizon, and the second being that leaping into it is strangely like falling into a closed-off diorama. The mountains can't be as easily seen from the outside, but from within...
It's an illusion, of course, but it's one that appeals to Estinien's sensibilities. It's not incredibly unlike his own domain, though his remains firmly entrenched in spring and summer. He wanders around, unafraid, leaping into the Keep and then up on top of the central building. Eventually, he winds up at the front door, only to find a wolf waiting for him.
He's a little more cautious now, but when it doesn't seem to be ready to attack, he'll knock on the entrance doors. May as well figure out who this domain belongs to.
It's an illusion, of course, but it's one that appeals to Estinien's sensibilities. It's not incredibly unlike his own domain, though his remains firmly entrenched in spring and summer. He wanders around, unafraid, leaping into the Keep and then up on top of the central building. Eventually, he winds up at the front door, only to find a wolf waiting for him.
He's a little more cautious now, but when it doesn't seem to be ready to attack, he'll knock on the entrance doors. May as well figure out who this domain belongs to.
Experience tells him folk will find their way into his space nonetheles, which is part of the reason Geralt has left the gates accessible. He has little intention of greeting anyone out there—until the knock comes. He takes a minute or two to consider. It'd be easy to ignore it.
Curiosity wins out in the end. The heavy double doors swing inward. Geralt stands between them. Somehow, he isn't expecting a familiar face, if only because the scent had been that of a stranger's. Now he realizes why. He and Estinien never met in the Horizon. Only in the dungeon, where the world was muted for him.
He looks Estinien up and down. One eyebrow goes up. There's no hostility in the greeting, but its blunt edges have not been softened, either: a genuine question, because he can't imagine what Estinien needs from him in the Horizon. They've only spoken once. "What do you want?"
Curiosity wins out in the end. The heavy double doors swing inward. Geralt stands between them. Somehow, he isn't expecting a familiar face, if only because the scent had been that of a stranger's. Now he realizes why. He and Estinien never met in the Horizon. Only in the dungeon, where the world was muted for him.
He looks Estinien up and down. One eyebrow goes up. There's no hostility in the greeting, but its blunt edges have not been softened, either: a genuine question, because he can't imagine what Estinien needs from him in the Horizon. They've only spoken once. "What do you want?"
[ yennefer isn't entirely sure how she ends up at this door in particular. she has no memory of the door, or of this keep at all. she has no memory of anything at all, really, but she supposes that hasn't been too much of a problem as of yet. particularly with the help of her guide, a large white wolf, who has been at her side for the majority of her journey so far. she does not know of where he came, or why he came to be at her side at all, but through their long journeys through this strange place, he has been a fine companion. a welcome companion, if she is being honest with herself, for without him yennefer would undoubtedly be lost.
and in direct relation to that, she feels herself collect into something a bit less shifting. a bit less shadowed. she feels more herself, though she's not exactly certain who that is supposed to be. not exactly certain why it's this place, above the others, that pulls that from her.
she chooses not to worry too intensely about it, and as she opens up the next portal because she knows she can, because the wolf has taught her to, and as the wolf guides her through into a hallway, somewhere dark and cold, she pulls her coat more firmly around her as she continues on, up a set of stairs and then to a single door down a hall. the door itself is nothing particularly special, but yennefer can't help but be drawn further towards it, reaching for the handle and finding it...
well. finding it unlocked.
when she steps inside, she is met with a smell. it's the first thing she notices about the place, and as the door falls shut behind her, she lets herself be wrapped up in it. it's warm, comforting, familiar again in that way she's not sure she understands. she has no memories of it, of leather and of a horse she knows and of something else. something that seeps into her skin, calming her in a way she hadn't realized she had been tense. relaxing, where she hadn't realized she'd been stressed. she smells a faint hint of lilac and gooseberries and yennefer closes her eyes and settles into the warmth of the room, of the feeling of it. why am i here? she wants to ask the wolf, but she doesn't need to open her eyes to know he's left her, and so she gives in to the feeling. let's herself settle in it, for now.
it feels comforting. it feels safe, somehow, too. it feels different than all of those things as well, but yennefer isn't sure what to name those feelings quite yet.
she hopes she has the time to. hopes that she won't have to leave. hopes that somewhere in this room is an answer to all the questions she feels building up in her, even now. ]
and in direct relation to that, she feels herself collect into something a bit less shifting. a bit less shadowed. she feels more herself, though she's not exactly certain who that is supposed to be. not exactly certain why it's this place, above the others, that pulls that from her.
she chooses not to worry too intensely about it, and as she opens up the next portal because she knows she can, because the wolf has taught her to, and as the wolf guides her through into a hallway, somewhere dark and cold, she pulls her coat more firmly around her as she continues on, up a set of stairs and then to a single door down a hall. the door itself is nothing particularly special, but yennefer can't help but be drawn further towards it, reaching for the handle and finding it...
well. finding it unlocked.
when she steps inside, she is met with a smell. it's the first thing she notices about the place, and as the door falls shut behind her, she lets herself be wrapped up in it. it's warm, comforting, familiar again in that way she's not sure she understands. she has no memories of it, of leather and of a horse she knows and of something else. something that seeps into her skin, calming her in a way she hadn't realized she had been tense. relaxing, where she hadn't realized she'd been stressed. she smells a faint hint of lilac and gooseberries and yennefer closes her eyes and settles into the warmth of the room, of the feeling of it. why am i here? she wants to ask the wolf, but she doesn't need to open her eyes to know he's left her, and so she gives in to the feeling. let's herself settle in it, for now.
it feels comforting. it feels safe, somehow, too. it feels different than all of those things as well, but yennefer isn't sure what to name those feelings quite yet.
she hopes she has the time to. hopes that she won't have to leave. hopes that somewhere in this room is an answer to all the questions she feels building up in her, even now. ]
[ Sooner or later, it will happen. Geralt has been prepared for it; he's told Jaskier, has deliberately set the wolf to find her when she appears, to keep her safe and steer her away from his piece of land. He has absolutely no fucking want for to meet Yen without her memories. More than that, he knows she won't want it, either. He wants to say, what the hell are the chances of him entering the exact same moment that she finds herself here? He knows better. It's how it's always been between them. Magic, Yennefer would call it, and Geralt could never know how to explain that sometimes he's there at the exact right moment, in a particular town she just happens to be in, because he placed himself there. Not necessarily looking, but. Hoping, a little, in a way that he isn't always fully aware of.
Perhaps that's what's happening now. Conscious or not, it's difficult to say. What can be said is that Geralt steps into the Horizon, sees the wolf is not outside the keep or within its halls, and tells himself it must've wandered off somewhere as it occasionally does. A whisper that it could mean the wolf's left to find Yennefer hovers in his mind for a second, then vanishes like smoke. Geralt doesn't leave Kaer Morhen for a reason. Until he's certain Yen has made her way in and back out again, he has no plans to walk the Horizon, in case he places himself in her path. He shuts the heavy doors, lingers by the hearth with a mug of ale he knows isn't real but that's good enough for while he's here.
Then he hears it: footsteps, a heartbeat, a familiar scent. Upstairs, where no one should have the ability to breach. Certainly not without the wolf attacking, and it hasn't. He can hear it, walking calmly to the other end of the keep. If she's made a portal in, then she must know where to find him. It's been...two, three weeks? Not out of the question, that she'd have found herself in this place already. Is coming to talk to him. And they do need to talk.
He will never know if he's lying to himself or not. If he's ignoring some instinct that says he should leave, right now. What matters is that he chooses to go upstairs, rounding the corner towards his chambers. Like most of his domain, his room contains little by way of a personal touch. His swords are sheathed, laid out atop a dresser. His gear is next to it; a worn cloak rolled up without much care. A coin or two beside some flickering candles. Beyond that, there's nothing. No paintings, no mementos.
He expects her. When he opens the door, he's aware she's there. But despite what has quietly begun to stir in the back of his mind, long before he mounted those stairs, he is not prepared to for this Yennefer. The one that stands before him. He knows as soon as he sees her. It's in the way she holds herself, the look in her eyes. A chill coils around his heart, snagging his breath. Fuck.
It isn't too late to walk away. Except, somehow, it is. ] Yen.
Perhaps that's what's happening now. Conscious or not, it's difficult to say. What can be said is that Geralt steps into the Horizon, sees the wolf is not outside the keep or within its halls, and tells himself it must've wandered off somewhere as it occasionally does. A whisper that it could mean the wolf's left to find Yennefer hovers in his mind for a second, then vanishes like smoke. Geralt doesn't leave Kaer Morhen for a reason. Until he's certain Yen has made her way in and back out again, he has no plans to walk the Horizon, in case he places himself in her path. He shuts the heavy doors, lingers by the hearth with a mug of ale he knows isn't real but that's good enough for while he's here.
Then he hears it: footsteps, a heartbeat, a familiar scent. Upstairs, where no one should have the ability to breach. Certainly not without the wolf attacking, and it hasn't. He can hear it, walking calmly to the other end of the keep. If she's made a portal in, then she must know where to find him. It's been...two, three weeks? Not out of the question, that she'd have found herself in this place already. Is coming to talk to him. And they do need to talk.
He will never know if he's lying to himself or not. If he's ignoring some instinct that says he should leave, right now. What matters is that he chooses to go upstairs, rounding the corner towards his chambers. Like most of his domain, his room contains little by way of a personal touch. His swords are sheathed, laid out atop a dresser. His gear is next to it; a worn cloak rolled up without much care. A coin or two beside some flickering candles. Beyond that, there's nothing. No paintings, no mementos.
He expects her. When he opens the door, he's aware she's there. But despite what has quietly begun to stir in the back of his mind, long before he mounted those stairs, he is not prepared to for this Yennefer. The one that stands before him. He knows as soon as he sees her. It's in the way she holds herself, the look in her eyes. A chill coils around his heart, snagging his breath. Fuck.
It isn't too late to walk away. Except, somehow, it is. ] Yen.
Edited 2021-09-15 22:52 (UTC)
The castle ruins feel familiar.
Roland, dressed head to toe like a gunslinger of old, doesn't know why that is, but it comforts him. He can picture how things would have looked, back when there was life here. The forges would have rung with the sounds of metal being hammered into shape. The crack of guns in the distance as young men put to practice what they'd learned. Even the snow makes him think of fire, and old men reading aloud to a group of eager children.
As he walks through the ruin, his footprints leave a coating of sand on the snow-- and he doesn't feel the cold. The feeling of a desert is within him, and he isn't sure what it means of if it can be escaped.
He comes to the main door of the keep-- one he expects to lead to the great hall. Rather than open it he knocks. He's learned the places in the Horizon can be very personal, and he'll respect that. His voice is loud and he throws it out with the intent to carry far.
"Hile! Roland comes a-calling! If it please you, I'd enter your halls and palaver with you."
There ought to be more than just Roland. A name isn't enough for a man-- but while he's met people to share his name, none have shed more light on what else he ought to know and doesn't.
Roland, dressed head to toe like a gunslinger of old, doesn't know why that is, but it comforts him. He can picture how things would have looked, back when there was life here. The forges would have rung with the sounds of metal being hammered into shape. The crack of guns in the distance as young men put to practice what they'd learned. Even the snow makes him think of fire, and old men reading aloud to a group of eager children.
As he walks through the ruin, his footprints leave a coating of sand on the snow-- and he doesn't feel the cold. The feeling of a desert is within him, and he isn't sure what it means of if it can be escaped.
He comes to the main door of the keep-- one he expects to lead to the great hall. Rather than open it he knocks. He's learned the places in the Horizon can be very personal, and he'll respect that. His voice is loud and he throws it out with the intent to carry far.
"Hile! Roland comes a-calling! If it please you, I'd enter your halls and palaver with you."
There ought to be more than just Roland. A name isn't enough for a man-- but while he's met people to share his name, none have shed more light on what else he ought to know and doesn't.
That a soul has wandered by his domain is not unusual. Nor is the knocking. Geralt's come to expect visitors now and again while he's in here—though he doesn't always greet them.
The name. That part's new. As is the declaration to palaver. Geralt hasn't met any Roland. Nor does he know of anyone by that name. And as strange as it is to think about, for him, that's different. Of those who can enter the Horizon, Geralt is familiar with a good handful by now. Hard not to when half of them were locked up together and the other half came in and out of the dungeons.
He sets his sword aside, where he's been oiling it for lack of anything better to do while he's here. (Waiting for her, maybe.) The doors open with a heavy creak—both of them.
Geralt sets his gaze on the man standing in the snow. It's not an unfriendly face that looks back at him, but it is a hard face. And an unfamiliar one. One eyebrow lifts. He doesn't quite step aside yet, but his expression is more curious than wary.
"What's this about?"
The name. That part's new. As is the declaration to palaver. Geralt hasn't met any Roland. Nor does he know of anyone by that name. And as strange as it is to think about, for him, that's different. Of those who can enter the Horizon, Geralt is familiar with a good handful by now. Hard not to when half of them were locked up together and the other half came in and out of the dungeons.
He sets his sword aside, where he's been oiling it for lack of anything better to do while he's here. (Waiting for her, maybe.) The doors open with a heavy creak—both of them.
Geralt sets his gaze on the man standing in the snow. It's not an unfriendly face that looks back at him, but it is a hard face. And an unfamiliar one. One eyebrow lifts. He doesn't quite step aside yet, but his expression is more curious than wary.
"What's this about?"
[ There is no note left, but that wolf is now wearing a sparkling pink collar and has clearly been cuddled recently. ]
[The knock on the door is soft, rapping thrice before it stops all together. Should no one be at home, or the wrong person answer the door, Alucard can make an excuse and leave. Wait outside in near by alley or overhang as a wolf, rather than be asked he's out, but what brings you by?
He hasn't been willing to take the risk before. Sypha's return threw him and Alucard knew it bothered him, but the extent was not clear to him until two nights ago when all manner of ghosts walked among the living. He barely reacted, never mind had to put effort into trying to help. That's not himself, even at his worst moments.
Perspective. That's the reason he seeks Geralt out, if nothing else. He needs it, badly, because until the crypt work is done, the dhampir's in the waking world and must exist within it.
So he stands quietly on the other side of the door, waiting.]
He hasn't been willing to take the risk before. Sypha's return threw him and Alucard knew it bothered him, but the extent was not clear to him until two nights ago when all manner of ghosts walked among the living. He barely reacted, never mind had to put effort into trying to help. That's not himself, even at his worst moments.
Perspective. That's the reason he seeks Geralt out, if nothing else. He needs it, badly, because until the crypt work is done, the dhampir's in the waking world and must exist within it.
So he stands quietly on the other side of the door, waiting.]
[ Geralt is, in fact, inside Kaer Morhen. He's here because Ciri told him some time ago she had found a small pendant engraved with lilacs and gooseberries in his room, hidden away, and he's only now finally come to retrieve it. His thumb is tracing over the Elder script on the back when the knock comes.
Hm. He slips the token into a drawer and makes his way downstairs. Not many who bother to knock. Ciri can let herself in; Amos doesn't need to because Geralt always meets him outside first. His wolf tends to alert him to strangers. That leaves...
He opens the door. His eyes land on a familiar head of blond on an especially tall figure. Right. Thought so. He takes in Alucard for a second. They share a city. Alucard knows where to find him at this point. There's a reason the vampire (dhampir) has come here instead.
So he only turns and steps back inside, doors open: an indication for Alucard to come along, too. ]
Hm. He slips the token into a drawer and makes his way downstairs. Not many who bother to knock. Ciri can let herself in; Amos doesn't need to because Geralt always meets him outside first. His wolf tends to alert him to strangers. That leaves...
He opens the door. His eyes land on a familiar head of blond on an especially tall figure. Right. Thought so. He takes in Alucard for a second. They share a city. Alucard knows where to find him at this point. There's a reason the vampire (dhampir) has come here instead.
So he only turns and steps back inside, doors open: an indication for Alucard to come along, too. ]
[ In line with Julie being excellent at throwing parties, she is also an extremely talented gift-giver. She enjoys coming up with and distributing gifts only slightly less than she enjoys receiving them (she really enjoys receiving them). And though she is from a family of neglectful, white trash alcoholics, they have Midwestern manners ingrained deep. At Christmas, you give everyone around you a gift, that's simply how it is. If you can't afford gifts, you make them. If you can't make them, you write a card and do a favor.
In the Horizon, her options are limitless.
On Christmas morning, left with the wolf is a large wooden box containing essentially a very lovely charcuterie board, as well as a thick leatherbound book containing an encyclopedic text of monsters and cryptids from Julie's world. Inside the folded piece of paper atop the gifts is a loose length of fine gold chain.
Bring this one back to me.
Merry Christmas.
- J
The wolf himself is left with a huge hunk of wagyu beef to eat at his leisure. And also a wolf-sized Santa hat. ]
In the Horizon, her options are limitless.
On Christmas morning, left with the wolf is a large wooden box containing essentially a very lovely charcuterie board, as well as a thick leatherbound book containing an encyclopedic text of monsters and cryptids from Julie's world. Inside the folded piece of paper atop the gifts is a loose length of fine gold chain.
Bring this one back to me.
Merry Christmas.
- J
The wolf himself is left with a huge hunk of wagyu beef to eat at his leisure. And also a wolf-sized Santa hat. ]
Edited (don't look at my html fails) 2021-12-28 02:13 (UTC)
[ Conversely, gifts are simply not a part of his life, beyond the occasional practicality of a new blade or something of the sort. So it's a little startling when one comes his way. Startling, but not unwelcome. He tucks everything with care into his room, except for the meat and the hat, both of which go to the wolf.
She need not wait to visit to see how the wolf looks in it; it'll soon find its way to her club, jaunty fucking hat and all. In its mouth is a small straw-stuffed white wolf of its own likeness—made of what feels like actual wolf hair, and glittering collar included—but notably, a chain is wrapped around the toy's neck with a single wyvern tooth attached. Not the real thing, of course, but it's as close as it'll ever come in the Horizon, down to a hairline crack in the fang.
No note is attached but—he's obviously not forgotten their first conversation. ]
She need not wait to visit to see how the wolf looks in it; it'll soon find its way to her club, jaunty fucking hat and all. In its mouth is a small straw-stuffed white wolf of its own likeness—made of what feels like actual wolf hair, and glittering collar included—but notably, a chain is wrapped around the toy's neck with a single wyvern tooth attached. Not the real thing, of course, but it's as close as it'll ever come in the Horizon, down to a hairline crack in the fang.
No note is attached but—he's obviously not forgotten their first conversation. ]
I spoke to Yennefer.
[He could leave it there, and he sort of considers doing so. If they both remembered Voleth Meir, and Ciri, and the Witchers, then clearly... but Jaskier has wanted very little to talk about any of it, despite being unable to avoid doing so. It still strikes him too deep. Even thinking of Yennefer stirs very unpleasant memories, but he cannot forget the panic in her writing. The panic he'd seen in her in Oxenfurt.
It's a bad sign when Yennefer of Vengerberg is as afraid as he. And she hasn't been answering any of his fucking messages since.]
Not long. I could barely read it; something is interfering, I suppose, with the connection. [He's not sure what. It feels easy to blame the Singularity, but was that really it? He doesn't understand why her magic is on the fritz again, if that's the issue. He thought... well, he doesn't fucking know why it's back, but he knows she came through that portal with it. Healed that Witcher. Even healed herself.]
I'm sending her something. Ah. Attempting to. Sending it to Thorne. I don't know how well it will work, but -- do you want to send her anything? A message?
[He's afraid he knows the answer already.]
[He could leave it there, and he sort of considers doing so. If they both remembered Voleth Meir, and Ciri, and the Witchers, then clearly... but Jaskier has wanted very little to talk about any of it, despite being unable to avoid doing so. It still strikes him too deep. Even thinking of Yennefer stirs very unpleasant memories, but he cannot forget the panic in her writing. The panic he'd seen in her in Oxenfurt.
It's a bad sign when Yennefer of Vengerberg is as afraid as he. And she hasn't been answering any of his fucking messages since.]
Not long. I could barely read it; something is interfering, I suppose, with the connection. [He's not sure what. It feels easy to blame the Singularity, but was that really it? He doesn't understand why her magic is on the fritz again, if that's the issue. He thought... well, he doesn't fucking know why it's back, but he knows she came through that portal with it. Healed that Witcher. Even healed herself.]
I'm sending her something. Ah. Attempting to. Sending it to Thorne. I don't know how well it will work, but -- do you want to send her anything? A message?
[He's afraid he knows the answer already.]
Edited 2022-01-24 19:29 (UTC)
[ Something interfering. It's what she has told him, too. Geralt believes her, because he believes Jaskier. But it changes little.
He takes his time answering. Does he? What good would a message do? Would she even give a shit? Would it mean anything to her? He has not forgiven her; he isn't sure he ever will. But he knows she's important to Ciri. Regardless of what she has done, she holds a place in Ciri's life, a place that Geralt made for her that night. Asked her to fill. They both did. And he also knows she's alone in Thorne. Steeped in magic and their desires to grasp hold of the Singularity's power while she has none of her own. While she does not remember too much of what she should. Of what was important.
Thorne is the last kingdom that puts him at ease, where Yennefer is concerned. Alucard told him once that Jaskier is the best thing that could happen to Hector. A tempering force. He had not disagreed then. ]
He takes his time answering. Does he? What good would a message do? Would she even give a shit? Would it mean anything to her? He has not forgiven her; he isn't sure he ever will. But he knows she's important to Ciri. Regardless of what she has done, she holds a place in Ciri's life, a place that Geralt made for her that night. Asked her to fill. They both did. And he also knows she's alone in Thorne. Steeped in magic and their desires to grasp hold of the Singularity's power while she has none of her own. While she does not remember too much of what she should. Of what was important.
Thorne is the last kingdom that puts him at ease, where Yennefer is concerned. Alucard told him once that Jaskier is the best thing that could happen to Hector. A tempering force. He had not disagreed then. ]
Take care of her for Ciri.
нι gεяαℓт, ι нσρε үσυ εηנσүε∂ тнε sυммιт! εxcερт ғσя тнε ωнσℓε ιт ρяσвαвℓү вειηg α ρσℓιтιcαℓ sнαм тнιηg. ιт ωαs ηιcε sεειηg үσυ ειтнεя ωαү.
ι нαvε α sмαℓℓ ғαvσя тσ αsк, ιғ ιт's ησт тσσ мυcн тяσυвℓε. ι ∂ση'т ωαηт үσυ тσ gσ συт σғ үσυя ωαү, вυт ι ∂ση'т нαvε εүεs ιη тнε ғяεε cιтιεs αη∂ тнεяε ιs ησω sσмεσηε тнεяε ωнσ cσυℓ∂ cαυsε тяσυвℓε ғσя εvεяүσηε.
тнε sσят σғ тяσυвℓε ρεσρℓε ℓιкε υs αяε мσяε υsε∂ тσ.
ι нαvε α sмαℓℓ ғαvσя тσ αsк, ιғ ιт's ησт тσσ мυcн тяσυвℓε. ι ∂ση'т ωαηт үσυ тσ gσ συт σғ үσυя ωαү, вυт ι ∂ση'т нαvε εүεs ιη тнε ғяεε cιтιεs αη∂ тнεяε ιs ησω sσмεσηε тнεяε ωнσ cσυℓ∂ cαυsε тяσυвℓε ғσя εvεяүσηε.
тнε sσят σғ тяσυвℓε ρεσρℓε ℓιкε υs αяε мσяε υsε∂ тσ.
I don't understand what the hell half of your god damn notes even mean on this board
Do you come with like a translation manual or a freakin cypher or something
( do you remember that time dean gave him a list that was completely incomprehensible to Geralt? pepperidge farm remembers. )
Do you come with like a translation manual or a freakin cypher or something
( do you remember that time dean gave him a list that was completely incomprehensible to Geralt? pepperidge farm remembers. )
They're for Sam.
[ He isn't surprised others have glimpsed the growing beast, but for Geralt, it was only at Sam's behest that he wrote anything down—a supplement to the discussion each time Sam would give him that look that said Geralt lost him completely once more.
There's a delay, and then: ]
Bring a bottle some time.
I'll explain.
[ He isn't surprised others have glimpsed the growing beast, but for Geralt, it was only at Sam's behest that he wrote anything down—a supplement to the discussion each time Sam would give him that look that said Geralt lost him completely once more.
There's a delay, and then: ]
Bring a bottle some time.
I'll explain.
My beloved Witcher,
Though I know you will lament having my presence out of your general vicinity, I am happy to inform you I have been invited to an excursion with the lovely ladies we know so well. (That is, your daughter, my lover, and Julie, who I'm sure will be extra thrilling company with the wine we're taking.)
We shall return in a few weeks, but worry not. I will be giving you constant updates.
[It's a promise.]
Though I know you will lament having my presence out of your general vicinity, I am happy to inform you I have been invited to an excursion with the lovely ladies we know so well. (That is, your daughter, my lover, and Julie, who I'm sure will be extra thrilling company with the wine we're taking.)
We shall return in a few weeks, but worry not. I will be giving you constant updates.
[It's a promise.]
[ The message appears scrawled on the sand as he's riding over a long familiar trail towards the Badlands. He pauses, tilting his head at it.
His answer is sent with the full understanding that it will prevent nothing. Perhaps that is the reason he even sends it in the first place. (He does, of course, wish to know what they'll be up to, even if he will not tell Jaskier this.) ]
Do not.
His answer is sent with the full understanding that it will prevent nothing. Perhaps that is the reason he even sends it in the first place. (He does, of course, wish to know what they'll be up to, even if he will not tell Jaskier this.) ]
Do not.
Edited 2022-05-23 05:09 (UTC)
It had been just an idle thought that occurred to Nadine, while lying in bed and sorting through all the various thoughts that come in when her mind's unoccupied. She doesn't even know what made her think of it, but she'd remembered telling Geralt she'd show him a motorcycle one of these days.
And it returned to her again. So she'd sent Geralt a simple magical text - she isn't sure what else to call them - asking him to meet her in her domain, when he had some free time. And stressing it wasn't urgent, she just had something she think he'd like to show him.
Her own domain has shifted in season once more, spring in full bloom around the little 'town' that makes up her part of the Horizon. The little square in front of the church is a riot of flowers and blossoming trees. She's waiting for him on the church steps, in black jeans and knee-high boots and a black leather jacket over her plain gray t-shirt.
There's a motorcycle parked by the steps.
And it returned to her again. So she'd sent Geralt a simple magical text - she isn't sure what else to call them - asking him to meet her in her domain, when he had some free time. And stressing it wasn't urgent, she just had something she think he'd like to show him.
Her own domain has shifted in season once more, spring in full bloom around the little 'town' that makes up her part of the Horizon. The little square in front of the church is a riot of flowers and blossoming trees. She's waiting for him on the church steps, in black jeans and knee-high boots and a black leather jacket over her plain gray t-shirt.
There's a motorcycle parked by the steps.
The message he receives from Nadine arrives only a few days after he's left with Sam. They're still on the main roads, not far from the outpost. He waits until the afternoon, when the heat is more than he prefers to travel in, and sends a message back: he'll be there in an hour.
Nadine almost never reaches out to him to meet in the Horizon. Not especially since she's moved to Cadens. It has him curious.
He walks to where he remembers her small town is. Now and again, it occurs to him he could probably arrive, willingly, at another's place, but something about walking there feels more suited. The shops are the same, the play horses remain, but the snow is gone. Flowers spring along the paths and open gardens.
And in the midst of the bright blooms, that. He knows enough to recognize it as a vehicle, between the sleek metal and thick black wheels. Things he's glimpsed before, but never stopped to examine. Other than Dean's car.
He stops a foot away from the steps. Peers at the machine, then at Nadine. "That's new."
Nadine almost never reaches out to him to meet in the Horizon. Not especially since she's moved to Cadens. It has him curious.
He walks to where he remembers her small town is. Now and again, it occurs to him he could probably arrive, willingly, at another's place, but something about walking there feels more suited. The shops are the same, the play horses remain, but the snow is gone. Flowers spring along the paths and open gardens.
And in the midst of the bright blooms, that. He knows enough to recognize it as a vehicle, between the sleek metal and thick black wheels. Things he's glimpsed before, but never stopped to examine. Other than Dean's car.
He stops a foot away from the steps. Peers at the machine, then at Nadine. "That's new."
[when the caravans arrive from their travels to drop off supplies from not-so-far-off lands, certain parcels get pulled away and taken to go through customs. they are not for businesses nor for sale, but for individuals. the fact that they are for summoned individuals raise an eyebrow.
and so, through customs it goes, opened, inspected, and then—when none of the items are deemed as questionable—they are repackaged and sent to their designated recipients.
this small package will sit forgotten, likely somewhere where geralt frequents a lot, until he returns from wherever it is he has left for. it is not like wanda knows about people's lives in the cities. inside, geralt will find a wooden comb with an engraving of a white wolf.
there is no letter explaining the contents of the parcel, but there is a single note. it is blank at first, until geralt holds it, and then swathes of scarlet magic will reveal writing, as if it were happening right in the moment by an invisible hand:
For your daughter. Be well.]
and so, through customs it goes, opened, inspected, and then—when none of the items are deemed as questionable—they are repackaged and sent to their designated recipients.
this small package will sit forgotten, likely somewhere where geralt frequents a lot, until he returns from wherever it is he has left for. it is not like wanda knows about people's lives in the cities. inside, geralt will find a wooden comb with an engraving of a white wolf.
there is no letter explaining the contents of the parcel, but there is a single note. it is blank at first, until geralt holds it, and then swathes of scarlet magic will reveal writing, as if it were happening right in the moment by an invisible hand:
For your daughter. Be well.]
[ Between Geralt's long absence from the city and all that's happened with the dreams, it's some time before Wanda receives a reply. But one does come in the form of a white wolf carrying a neatly folded piece of parchment. If she isn't there, the note will be placed on her porch.
It's unsigned, but it probably isn't hard to identify the sender. That he's taken the time to handwrite and deliver the note through the Horizon instead of contacting Wanda via the scrawled mind messages says something. There is also no overt mention of their recent encounter. ]
She sends her thanks.
Hope you're all right.
It's unsigned, but it probably isn't hard to identify the sender. That he's taken the time to handwrite and deliver the note through the Horizon instead of contacting Wanda via the scrawled mind messages says something. There is also no overt mention of their recent encounter. ]
She sends her thanks.
Hope you're all right.
We need to talk.
I'm not panicking, by the way, but --
Ciri's horse is here, and she's --
She won't answer --
Where are you? Have you heard from her?
Ciri's horse is here, and she's --
She won't answer --
Where are you? Have you heard from her?
early June; shortly after Ciri & Viktor's Excellent Adventure
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wiedzminka
2022-06-16 07:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ciri knows she can't keep putting it off. She waits about a day, a little more. Gets her bearings, focuses her efforts on arranging a ride for herself and Viktor back to Cadens, makes sure to restock whatever supplies she can on credit. Eventually, she has to think about it. Then, talk about it.
Geralt gets a message at some point in the afternoon, when they've started on their way back. It's unsigned, but Ciri's hand should be familiar. ]
Geralt, we need to talk. I'll meet you in the courtyard. You set the time.
Geralt gets a message at some point in the afternoon, when they've started on their way back. It's unsigned, but Ciri's hand should be familiar. ]
Geralt, we need to talk. I'll meet you in the courtyard. You set the time.
[ Her message is not wholly unexpected. Jaskier's informed him, of sorts, and once Geralt confirmed through Jaskier she is indeed safe, he's let things be for now. Decides she doesn't need him hounding her while she's already got her hands full.
But when she contacts him, he answers quickly. ]
Sundown.
[ And that's where she'll find him, outside in the snow on a stump just within the walls. Roach is in her stables, the wolf stretched out under the stars. Geralt waits patiently, his mind turning over what she might want to speak to him about. Has she found something? Or has something happened? ]
But when she contacts him, he answers quickly. ]
Sundown.
[ And that's where she'll find him, outside in the snow on a stump just within the walls. Roach is in her stables, the wolf stretched out under the stars. Geralt waits patiently, his mind turning over what she might want to speak to him about. Has she found something? Or has something happened? ]
[ Julie almost never bothers Geralt when he's out of the city. Only if he's been gone significantly longer than he should have been or else leaves without a word, which he's gotten better about not doing. And she doesn't want to bother him now, either, but she's skating by on the bare minimum of sleep, seeing things in her peripheral vision. She's so terrified that even alcohol is barely making a dent, and for once, she's hesitant to drink that much right now anyway.
The truth, though, is that she feels dangerously vulnerable right now, more than she has at any other point since she arrived in Abraxas. There are handprints bruised onto her arms, and she doesn't know where they came from. (Except she does know, and doesn't want to believe it.)
With both Sam and Geralt gone, she's becoming more and more certain that something terrible is going to happen to her.
But still, she holds out for days, unwilling to make herself be a damsel in distress. It's only when she finds herself hiding in her closet, after being sure she saw lightning and fingers in the window, that she actually breaks down and messages him. ]
When are you and Sam coming home?
The truth, though, is that she feels dangerously vulnerable right now, more than she has at any other point since she arrived in Abraxas. There are handprints bruised onto her arms, and she doesn't know where they came from. (Except she does know, and doesn't want to believe it.)
With both Sam and Geralt gone, she's becoming more and more certain that something terrible is going to happen to her.
But still, she holds out for days, unwilling to make herself be a damsel in distress. It's only when she finds herself hiding in her closet, after being sure she saw lightning and fingers in the window, that she actually breaks down and messages him. ]
When are you and Sam coming home?
[ It's because Julie reaches out so rarely that Geralt is on alert immediately when she does. He's untacking Roach when the words curve across the leather saddle. ]
Three days.
[ A pause. Outside of that city, Geralt has no way of knowing what's been happening. If Sam's been bothered by something unusual, he's not said. For Geralt, the nightmares are just that. Troubled dreams. It's hardly the first time he's seen corpses and the people he loves dying, broken. No one's yet encountered him in these dreams, not in a way that would make him think anything strange was afoot. He sleeps rarely as it is, spends most nights awake on watch while Sam rests.
But Julie is contacting him for a reason. ]
Is something the matter?
Three days.
[ A pause. Outside of that city, Geralt has no way of knowing what's been happening. If Sam's been bothered by something unusual, he's not said. For Geralt, the nightmares are just that. Troubled dreams. It's hardly the first time he's seen corpses and the people he loves dying, broken. No one's yet encountered him in these dreams, not in a way that would make him think anything strange was afoot. He sleeps rarely as it is, spends most nights awake on watch while Sam rests.
But Julie is contacting him for a reason. ]
Is something the matter?
( He wakes up bleeding.
A second later, the god damn heart-attack sets in. )
I need you to tell me you're okay right now
I mean it
This ain't one of those six hour late answer situations, if you don't get back to me in two minutes I'm saddling up and riding out after your ass
A second later, the god damn heart-attack sets in. )
I need you to tell me you're okay right now
I mean it
This ain't one of those six hour late answer situations, if you don't get back to me in two minutes I'm saddling up and riding out after your ass
Edited 2022-06-24 08:28 (UTC)
[ More than two minutes pass. More than ten, in fact. He doesn't see Dean's message at first—busy trying to gather his bearings, get Sam on his fucking horses—until it reappears as he's riding back.
His fingers tighten on the reins. Realization is beginning to sink in about exactly what may have happened. He is fine now. Sam is not. ]
I'm a day out.
Meet me on the main road.
His fingers tighten on the reins. Realization is beginning to sink in about exactly what may have happened. He is fine now. Sam is not. ]
I'm a day out.
Meet me on the main road.
You upright and functional enough to take a trip up the mountain this week?
[Left in Geralt's kitchen is a basket with a small tag labeled For Geralt (and only him, unless he chooses to share). The handwriting is likely familiar by now.
As promised, Alucard's figured out mushroom pierogi. Except he's done more than pulse the mushrooms fine and cooked them. He's added shallots and thyme, then brandy and some cream to make an all too rich filling. There's a whole 36 of them, with a dozen more pierogi full of fig jam and goat cheese.
Alucard loves only one thing, and it is the new toy from Viktor. And the collateral that results.]
As promised, Alucard's figured out mushroom pierogi. Except he's done more than pulse the mushrooms fine and cooked them. He's added shallots and thyme, then brandy and some cream to make an all too rich filling. There's a whole 36 of them, with a dozen more pierogi full of fig jam and goat cheese.
Alucard loves only one thing, and it is the new toy from Viktor. And the collateral that results.]
[Jayce and Viktor already put out their request and got good bites, including from Ciri, but he decides to reach out to someone he knows would be very helpful just to check in.]
Hello Geralt, it's Jayce.
I don't know if you saw that Viktor and I are looking for volunteers in the next week or so to help remove dangerous mining equipment. We've been working on ways to help the miners' quality of life be safer and this is the first step. Ciri already volunteered, but I was hoping you'd consider helping us? You're very strong and we could use all the help we could get. No pressure though.
Hello Geralt, it's Jayce.
I don't know if you saw that Viktor and I are looking for volunteers in the next week or so to help remove dangerous mining equipment. We've been working on ways to help the miners' quality of life be safer and this is the first step. Ciri already volunteered, but I was hoping you'd consider helping us? You're very strong and we could use all the help we could get. No pressure though.
[ she checks on jaskier first, in a panic, through a haze of pain. she still isn't certain what happened, is still getting information and pieces of the stories from all over. she knows what ellya has done, knows what has befallen grigory, knows that whoever it was that acted did it swiftly and efficiently, and she is pissed at her own inability to protect herself. to know how to.
once she has settled enough and allowed the healers to do their jobs (to a point) she is left on her own in her room, told to rest, that she would be checked in on shortly. she hurts, but the pain is a constant enough throbbing that she can block most of it out, nothing compared to some of the injuries she's sustained over her long life.
as she lays back on the bed, aching, sore, she sends her message. ]
once she has settled enough and allowed the healers to do their jobs (to a point) she is left on her own in her room, told to rest, that she would be checked in on shortly. she hurts, but the pain is a constant enough throbbing that she can block most of it out, nothing compared to some of the injuries she's sustained over her long life.
as she lays back on the bed, aching, sore, she sends her message. ]
We need to speak.
Meet me at Jaskier's Horizon.
[ There are a million things on his mind in the aftermath. Most of it isn't even to do with the war. Or shades of war, at least. They've both fired their one shot, but neither have made a move past that. No soldiers mobilized. No armies marching.
It is what it is. The war was always going to come. Just a matter of when. His focus has been on Jaskier, Ciri. Everyone around him. Yennefer, he's resisted contacting. Perhaps it says something about what's changed, that he knows she will reach out to him when she can. That he is no longer considering if she will hide from him instead, refusing to tell him what's happening in Thorne.
So he waits. Trusts she is alive, or else someone would have told him at once. Thancred or Stephen. Istredd.
And yet. The relief when her familiar script curves across his vision. ]
Yen. [ He hurries up the wooden steps, stopping short a foot away, as though remembering himself. His brows are furrowed. ] Are you okay?
It is what it is. The war was always going to come. Just a matter of when. His focus has been on Jaskier, Ciri. Everyone around him. Yennefer, he's resisted contacting. Perhaps it says something about what's changed, that he knows she will reach out to him when she can. That he is no longer considering if she will hide from him instead, refusing to tell him what's happening in Thorne.
So he waits. Trusts she is alive, or else someone would have told him at once. Thancred or Stephen. Istredd.
And yet. The relief when her familiar script curves across his vision. ]
Sundown.[ Sundown is safest. He is not surprised she's chosen Jaskier's domain; when the sky dims, that's where he goes. Last time they were here, it'd been. Tense. He had not expected to see her. Now all he wants is to see her, to make sure she's solid and whole. (He has not forgotten the fire, the flames—) ]
Yen. [ He hurries up the wooden steps, stopping short a foot away, as though remembering himself. His brows are furrowed. ] Are you okay?
[Around the same time as this conversation]
Geralt, during your desert excursions, have you noticed any sort of fringe colonies or especially isolated groups of people?
-I.G.
-I.G.
So were you planning on telling me you got frisky with Lucifer, or were you just waiting for him to do it?
1. I've already apologized to her, but I would like to also apologize to you for accidentally biting Ciri in all of the...nonsense of the past few weeks.
2. However I am pleased to report that there will never be a need to worry about vampires or anything else consuming her blood. It tastes like condensed chili peppers and the effects linger for far too long.
2. However I am pleased to report that there will never be a need to worry about vampires or anything else consuming her blood. It tastes like condensed chili peppers and the effects linger for far too long.
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