![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
abraxas:: INBOX
Inbox
» action
» text
» Horizon
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.
( Things have been worse, he thinks, standing back a few yards away from the clashing of swords in the training yard. It's snowing, but only barely. The clang of steel on steel is rhythmic and familiar, and his own blade digs into the hard-packed earth as he leans wearily on it, observing.
Things have been worse than they are right now. There are a few highlights these days; Geralt is awake, alive, and recovering. Steve is here, visiting, happy. He always likes when he can bring a couple members of his family together under one roof for any significant length of time, and so even though Geralt's been having a string of bad days lately... it's okay, he thinks. Nobody's dying, or injured, or missing. Last night, they ended the evening with drunken laughter. Nobody's warring with anyone this week. Maybe things aren't perfect, but they're not bad.
No amount of telling himself that shakes the faint sense of discomfort creeping up his spine. He's always been in tune with vibes when it comes to the people he cares about, to their interpersonal dynamics, to the charge in the air in the way they interact with each other. It's nothing he can put his finger on, but something strikes him as ever-so-faintly off about the way the metal scores against metal. Maybe the speed Geralt's putting into his movements. The force of his blows. The way Steve is keeping up, but only just barely, and pushing himself a little too hard for it. The expressions on their faces, the look in Geralt's eyes.
It hasn't crossed any lines. Nobody's been hurt, no blood's been drawn, there's no reason for him to feel unsettled — and yet, all the same, a small knit furrows his brow as he watches, eyes gradually narrowing, tension in his shoulders winding tighter.
These are two of his favorite people in the world, and something is wrong. He just... knows. In a few minutes, he'll think back to this moment and curse himself for not trusting his instincts. Now would've been the right time to call it quits, but instead, stupidly, he waits — and, consequently, Geralt snaps. )
Things have been worse than they are right now. There are a few highlights these days; Geralt is awake, alive, and recovering. Steve is here, visiting, happy. He always likes when he can bring a couple members of his family together under one roof for any significant length of time, and so even though Geralt's been having a string of bad days lately... it's okay, he thinks. Nobody's dying, or injured, or missing. Last night, they ended the evening with drunken laughter. Nobody's warring with anyone this week. Maybe things aren't perfect, but they're not bad.
No amount of telling himself that shakes the faint sense of discomfort creeping up his spine. He's always been in tune with vibes when it comes to the people he cares about, to their interpersonal dynamics, to the charge in the air in the way they interact with each other. It's nothing he can put his finger on, but something strikes him as ever-so-faintly off about the way the metal scores against metal. Maybe the speed Geralt's putting into his movements. The force of his blows. The way Steve is keeping up, but only just barely, and pushing himself a little too hard for it. The expressions on their faces, the look in Geralt's eyes.
It hasn't crossed any lines. Nobody's been hurt, no blood's been drawn, there's no reason for him to feel unsettled — and yet, all the same, a small knit furrows his brow as he watches, eyes gradually narrowing, tension in his shoulders winding tighter.
These are two of his favorite people in the world, and something is wrong. He just... knows. In a few minutes, he'll think back to this moment and curse himself for not trusting his instincts. Now would've been the right time to call it quits, but instead, stupidly, he waits — and, consequently, Geralt snaps. )
[ When this shit began, Geralt hadn't wanted anybody with him. The initial weeks—he spent it alone. Even now, months can still span an eternity, and that's how this feels as of late. Maybe it's to do with how he can't remember those decades. Not in any way that matters, not more than bits and pieces. All he has are months.
Now that it's winter, he's finally let Dean join him. And with Dean, Steve—a young man whose face is only partially familiar. A faded dream. Even his memories of Dean are fragmented.
He does trust him. That much, he knows.
He's agreed to a round of light sparring, if only because the footwork is ingrained in him. There is a comfort to doing something he feels like he knows, that isn't frustratingly foreign. In retrospect, he should've kept it between him and Dean instead. They've done this before; Dean can handle himself. But Dean seems fond of the boy, and the steady warmth they shared the night before lulls him into a sense of being better.
The first half hour is unremarkable. The second—he can't say what changes. (He seldom can.) The clash of steel on steel, perhaps. It echoes too sharply between his ears. Reverberates too heavily in his bones. He smells blood and flames where there are none, and when the weapon swings towards him, he reacts on instinct—a parry instead of a block, meant to knock his opponent to the ground, hard.
Abruptly, he withdraws. Fuck. An apology sits on the tip of his tongue. He should offer the boy a hand to his feet. But the urge to leave seizes him, before much worse happens, and he turns on his heel without a word. Steve, he thinks, will know better than to try to stop him. ]
Now that it's winter, he's finally let Dean join him. And with Dean, Steve—a young man whose face is only partially familiar. A faded dream. Even his memories of Dean are fragmented.
He does trust him. That much, he knows.
He's agreed to a round of light sparring, if only because the footwork is ingrained in him. There is a comfort to doing something he feels like he knows, that isn't frustratingly foreign. In retrospect, he should've kept it between him and Dean instead. They've done this before; Dean can handle himself. But Dean seems fond of the boy, and the steady warmth they shared the night before lulls him into a sense of being better.
The first half hour is unremarkable. The second—he can't say what changes. (He seldom can.) The clash of steel on steel, perhaps. It echoes too sharply between his ears. Reverberates too heavily in his bones. He smells blood and flames where there are none, and when the weapon swings towards him, he reacts on instinct—a parry instead of a block, meant to knock his opponent to the ground, hard.
Abruptly, he withdraws. Fuck. An apology sits on the tip of his tongue. He should offer the boy a hand to his feet. But the urge to leave seizes him, before much worse happens, and he turns on his heel without a word. Steve, he thinks, will know better than to try to stop him. ]
Hey. Geralt.
I'm not comin' home.
Araneadis. Piece of shit god. Got me good. Guess my fight caught up to me, huh? Pretty inevitable.
I swear to god, you better fuckin' see. This. Imagine my last will and testament bein' put on mute. I want to tell the others. Wanda, Himeka. Hell, even Rocket. But you'll get it. Won't freak out on me. I don't have long.
Just --
Make Steve understand it isn't his fault. He did good. He'll do better, too. I'm not gonna have him blame himself. Didn't help me do shit, the guilt. Look after him.
Nice knowin' ya. You guys were good brothers. I had a great family. I don't regret shit.
I'm not comin' home.
Araneadis. Piece of shit god. Got me good. Guess my fight caught up to me, huh? Pretty inevitable.
I swear to god, you better fuckin' see. This. Imagine my last will and testament bein' put on mute. I want to tell the others. Wanda, Himeka. Hell, even Rocket. But you'll get it. Won't freak out on me. I don't have long.
Just --
Make Steve understand it isn't his fault. He did good. He'll do better, too. I'm not gonna have him blame himself. Didn't help me do shit, the guilt. Look after him.
Nice knowin' ya. You guys were good brothers. I had a great family. I don't regret shit.
Edited 2024-05-14 17:05 (UTC)
[There's a thousand thoughts pinging through his brain. Going through his whole life. Maybe that's what they mean when it flashes before your eyes, except his isn't flashes. It's like the whole damn thing, laid out in front of him. Where he's supposed to be going. The Underworld? Nowhere? Is he going home to Kyrie? They never said where the fuck dead Summoned go.
A few minutes is long enough that even Nero can't hold onto being a tough, unaffected guy. It's enough for fear to set in. Not for death, but for what he's leaving behind. Kyrie can't hear him here, but someone can. Someone has to, and Steve... Steve's just holding him, and Nero can see him breaking, same way he broke when Credo died.
He let himself settle, didn't he? With a family. With brothers. With his uncle. Wanting to make the world better. To help people see these gods are just monsters...
Maybe not all of them.
Little late to learn that, huh? Sorry, Lorelai.]
Geralt, you fuck. Answer. You got to see this.
Not my first time dying. Or almost. It's just the first time I wanted to say something first.
I don't care what you say. Only that you heard. That someone did.
A few minutes is long enough that even Nero can't hold onto being a tough, unaffected guy. It's enough for fear to set in. Not for death, but for what he's leaving behind. Kyrie can't hear him here, but someone can. Someone has to, and Steve... Steve's just holding him, and Nero can see him breaking, same way he broke when Credo died.
He let himself settle, didn't he? With a family. With brothers. With his uncle. Wanting to make the world better. To help people see these gods are just monsters...
Maybe not all of them.
Little late to learn that, huh? Sorry, Lorelai.]
Geralt, you fuck. Answer. You got to see this.
Not my first time dying. Or almost. It's just the first time I wanted to say something first.
I don't care what you say. Only that you heard. That someone did.
Edited 2024-05-14 17:45 (UTC)
[ there's really no point in keeping track of how long it's been since she recieved his last letter - they have never been the type to keep track of these things. but since returning from the singularity, with the weight of centuries of unlived memories, it feels like it's somehow been... longer, than that.
much longer.
so it will be a day, maybe not even that, after they've all been brought back to their respective territories that geralt will find the letter upon kaer morhen's front door, held to the wood with a knife. the wolf sits directly under, as if protecting its presence for the rightful receipient to come and tug it free. ]
much longer.
so it will be a day, maybe not even that, after they've all been brought back to their respective territories that geralt will find the letter upon kaer morhen's front door, held to the wood with a knife. the wolf sits directly under, as if protecting its presence for the rightful receipient to come and tug it free. ]
Dear Friend,
With all the recent happenings, it is possible you haven't yet heard, so I will take it upon myself to share the unfortunate news. It seems the Singularity's hold on Triss was insubstantial. I'm uncertain if she made it to the crater at all, but we do have confirmation she's no longer here us.
I do not know what changes the Cities have inacted since your return, but Thorne has shifted in the weeks of our leave. The Queen's uncle, a naval man from the city closest to Solvunn, has moved into the castle and made his power well known. The King is not a fan of Admiral Sidwell, but it appears the King has lost much in terms of his hold on the territory. I plan to meet with him myself, to see what sort of influence will be made around the Castle. Given what at least one potential future holds, the last thing we need right now is an outright war called. Not until we've at least had time to rest. His wife and two sons live outside the castle.
Jolene Sybell, if you remember her, has also fled the castle for Hayle. The city's borders are closed, supposedly in reaction to the storms, but there isn't much to confirm that.
Returning to the Castle has come with its fair share of curious reactions. Between you and I, I don't think many of the Summoned have taken well to the Centuries shown to us. Many are finding it hard to adjust.
I take it you also found the note left for us by the 'gods' of old? It has been interesting seeing their reach through the Horizon and otherwise, though I suppose we have a greater understanding of why, if we so choose to believe the visions.
It has sparked some curiosities, paths that I hadn't been sure were free to travel. And as much as it pains me to think we have once again returned to what now feels even more like barred cages around the very territories we've returned to, I do believe there to be some use to the information I have available here.
The Singularity calls to you too, doesn't it?
All this to say, friend, for all that I know we have the Horizon within our reach with which to speak, knowing that Nocwich soon opens is one of few excitements I hold close.
I would like to see you there, if you are so able.
And while I know it was before our more recent excursion, I am sorry for the loss of your friend. For all the new experiences and opportunities we face in this sphere, it opens us up that much more fully to loss.
Until we next meet.
Your friend,
Yennefer
P.S. Do the lengths of my correspondences coincide with the amount of payment? Or do you work more off quantity? I do expect an equal return in my investments- next time you venture to Nocwich.
Edited 2024-05-15 04:29 (UTC)
[ It's been a few days since they all crawled out of that crater with heads full of too many memories. It hasn't really been long enough to process, if Steve is honest. With almost every Summoned he knows, he now has all these extra moments with them crammed into his head, and yet he knows they didn't really happen.
It's exhausting, and life has to move on. When he starts to hear some worrisome rumors about what the military is up to, it's second nature to message Geralt about it.
So, with no preamble at all: ]
Word is they're sending more troops out to Aquila, and the mountains north of it.
[ They both know what that means. ]
It's exhausting, and life has to move on. When he starts to hear some worrisome rumors about what the military is up to, it's second nature to message Geralt about it.
So, with no preamble at all: ]
Word is they're sending more troops out to Aquila, and the mountains north of it.
[ They both know what that means. ]
Geralt I need your help.
We were given prior knowledge that a coup is about to happen in Thorne. Thancred got a message from Jolene warning him, and he contacted those of us closest to the crown. We were given the option of staying and risking consequences, or leaving to go somewhere else. As of right now, we don't know where that will be, just that we have a limited window.
With her close relationship to the Queen, it is very likely Yennefer is in the most direct danger. I'm trying to talk her down but she's digging her heels in. I could use the back up.
For the record, I know why she stayed before, and I will look out for Ciri's interests in the castle from now on.
We were given prior knowledge that a coup is about to happen in Thorne. Thancred got a message from Jolene warning him, and he contacted those of us closest to the crown. We were given the option of staying and risking consequences, or leaving to go somewhere else. As of right now, we don't know where that will be, just that we have a limited window.
With her close relationship to the Queen, it is very likely Yennefer is in the most direct danger. I'm trying to talk her down but she's digging her heels in. I could use the back up.
For the record, I know why she stayed before, and I will look out for Ciri's interests in the castle from now on.
[John is tired. It has been hours since he received Geralt’s message, and even then he had not yet been in bed but merely preparing himself for the thought of it. He suspects the sun has long risen by now, although he has no real way of telling the time down here. Just a feeling that it has been a long while and the agony of understanding it will be longer still.
Once the arguments amongst the mages at the warding have settled long enough that he feels comfortable stepping away, and he has checked in with his fellow guardsmen who have become trapped down here with him, making several sweeps of the safe room as it were to establish a mental picture of the place and its occupants, John finally allows himself a moment to breathe. And reach out to those he suspects might need to hear from him. Who probably would have liked to hear from him earlier, but that is neither here nor there.]
𝓖𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓽. 𝓘 𝓯𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓾𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓮.
Once the arguments amongst the mages at the warding have settled long enough that he feels comfortable stepping away, and he has checked in with his fellow guardsmen who have become trapped down here with him, making several sweeps of the safe room as it were to establish a mental picture of the place and its occupants, John finally allows himself a moment to breathe. And reach out to those he suspects might need to hear from him. Who probably would have liked to hear from him earlier, but that is neither here nor there.]
𝓖𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓽. 𝓘 𝓯𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓶𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓼 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓬𝓸𝓶𝓮 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓾𝓼 𝓲𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓮.
Edited 2024-06-17 14:51 (UTC)
[ Preoccupied by the crowded rooms, his own people, the fact that he greatly dislikes being underground listening to the chaos above, Geralt has little opportunity to look in on those outside Cadens. He hasn't even spoken to Yen. His presumption is she will contact him once she's made it.
So he is grateful to hear from John. Hardly surprising that he was too late. When does news ever arrive at the right time? ]
Are you with the others?
[ Are you safe? ]
So he is grateful to hear from John. Hardly surprising that he was too late. When does news ever arrive at the right time? ]
Are you with the others?
[ Are you safe? ]
I would appreciate if you don't tell Yennefer this.
But Kyle and I have been detained to the dungeons, uncertain how long.
I wanted someone outside of the castle to know.
But Kyle and I have been detained to the dungeons, uncertain how long.
I wanted someone outside of the castle to know.
Hey, you're out hunting right now, aren't you?
[John does not quite know how to send this message. He has tried and failed to compose it over and over in his head, and no words have come. He has had to wait until he is alone first, the pounding of his heart like a drum in his chest as he had waited to be dismissed from his post, excusing himself for the privacy of his room, where he sinks down on his bed and puts his head in his hands.]
𝓖𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓽.
𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮, 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓰𝓸, 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮. 𝓣𝓸 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓒𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼. 𝓘𝓯 𝓘 𝓪𝓼𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸.
𝓖𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓽.
𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓸𝓯𝓯𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓸𝓷𝓬𝓮, 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓼𝓸 𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓪𝓰𝓸, 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓶𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓰𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮. 𝓣𝓸 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓮 𝓒𝓲𝓽𝓲𝓮𝓼. 𝓘𝓯 𝓘 𝓪𝓼𝓴𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸.
Hey
Sam's back
My Sam, I mean. He's back in Cadens.
He doesn't remember anything, so
you know
brace for awkward introduction round two, I guess
Sorry
I'll get you liquored up first
Sam's back
My Sam, I mean. He's back in Cadens.
He doesn't remember anything, so
you know
brace for awkward introduction round two, I guess
Sorry
I'll get you liquored up first
Geralt, did you end up anywhere new?
[ Just checking in. ]
[ Just checking in. ]
[After packing what few belongings he had brought with himself to the Nether, and those few he had acquired here, John had made his way to the portal, with the intention of reconnecting with his household (such as it is, they have not kicked him out yet) once he arrives back at the house.
It would seem that fate has other plans for him.
Once he has finally managed to get his bearings and at least locate Ciri among the confused crowd, John cannot help but reach out directly to Geralt in turn.]
𝓖𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓽. 𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓰𝓸𝓭’𝓼 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾?
It would seem that fate has other plans for him.
Once he has finally managed to get his bearings and at least locate Ciri among the confused crowd, John cannot help but reach out directly to Geralt in turn.]
𝓖𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓽. 𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓷 𝓰𝓸𝓭’𝓼 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾?
[ John reaches him before Geralt can do so. It's good to hear from John. He'd been worried he might come across him in one of the castle's corridors—or worse. ]
Misplaced to Thorne.
[ A pause; it takes Geralt a bit of extra thought to remind himself that John is soft-hearted and worries quite a bit over him. And that he should not, as he does with others, keep the man fretting between answers. Unintentionally or otherwise. ]
I'm all right.
Where are you?
Misplaced to Thorne.
[ A pause; it takes Geralt a bit of extra thought to remind himself that John is soft-hearted and worries quite a bit over him. And that he should not, as he does with others, keep the man fretting between answers. Unintentionally or otherwise. ]
I'm all right.
Where are you?
Geralt.
Did you make it back to Cadens? Because I'm
in Solvunn.
Did you make it back to Cadens? Because I'm
in Solvunn.
[ It's a relief to hear from Ciri almost at once—and he's glad she's well enough to speak to him so quickly.
It's also a relief to know she isn't in Thorne, a point he was afraid of. Solvunn is...less of a risk. ]
Thorne.
But I'm all right, I promise.
Are you okay?
It's also a relief to know she isn't in Thorne, a point he was afraid of. Solvunn is...less of a risk. ]
Thorne.
But I'm all right, I promise.
Are you okay?
Geralt,
Have you spoken to our so-called host?
Have you spoken to our so-called host?
[John’s handwriting is as elegant as usual as it appears wherever Geralt sees it first, even if he is a bit more short spoken than he has historically been.
It’s just that Geralt wasn’t there when he awoke. Nor did he appear in the hours since. John has in fact looked everywhere he could think he might have gone and is now oscillating between highly concerned and deeply annoyed…]
Geralt. Where in god’s name have you gone. In the name of all things, do not tell me that you have been abducted. Again.
It’s just that Geralt wasn’t there when he awoke. Nor did he appear in the hours since. John has in fact looked everywhere he could think he might have gone and is now oscillating between highly concerned and deeply annoyed…]
Geralt. Where in god’s name have you gone. In the name of all things, do not tell me that you have been abducted. Again.
[ Geralt, meanwhile, is merely picking out a loaf of bread (the Feywilds do not seem to have much by way of baked goods and cheese) when he sees John's scrawled text.
Ah. He does so often forget the man is less used to his constant wandering. ]
I'm in Nocwich, safe and sound. I promise.
I thought you might enjoy a less...
Fey-touched breakfast.
Ah. He does so often forget the man is less used to his constant wandering. ]
I'm in Nocwich, safe and sound. I promise.
I thought you might enjoy a less...
Fey-touched breakfast.
Page 4 of 4