gynvael | abraxas:: INBOX

I imagine he'd have seen something like ours if they existed.
They're much bigger.

As I said, they may just be in another universe.

Do you call yourself a hunter?

I call myself a Witcher.

Naturally.

But that still tells me little to make it different to a hunter. Unless it isn't outside of a title?

We aren't human.
If that's what you mean.

Not many of us remain.

Hence "monster". Dean does at least know better. Is there more aside from your eyes? Curiosity, simply.

[ So he does. The truth is, Geralt was more wary of Dean at the start than Dean was of him. But then, he's always been reticent when it comes to making friends.

He finds it simpler to speak freely to a mage, though. Or a witch, as it were. ]

Longer-lived.
Harder to kill.
High tolerance for drink.

Hopefully a good taste for that drink also.

How's your taste?

18-year-old single malt.

( she has very fine taste, thank you )

Which seems to be no trouble in the Horizon.

Introduce me some time
And I'll indulge more of your questions.

You could come to my Horizon. I have a bottle already there.

[ Seldom one to turn down a drink—and with little to do while he's between contracts—he accepts. He follows her directions to her Horizon. She may hear the familiar clip of horse hooves arriving, though he leaves Roach just at the edge of Rowena's territory.

His eyebrow lifts at the throne occupying the center of the room. Mm. Subtle. (Now who might this remind him of?)

He is accustomed to mages and their extravagant tastes.

He's dressed almost no different than he is when she met him in Nocwich: leather, black linen, his sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He's brought nothing else with him and the same wolf-head medallion rests against his chest. He peers at the door that awaits. Since she's invited him, he doesn't bother knocking—just turns the knob, assuming that if he's welcome, it will open without issue. ]

( rowena certainly isn't dressed how geralt had last seen her, and whilst castiel had done very well as her sugar angel making her look fabulous again (so much shopping) the horizon gives rowena much more flexibility in it. so she's dressed in her red jumpsuit, the thing that dean had last seen her in when he'd visited hell, and rather than making some dramatic entrance (as she's fond of) rowena's already there, comfortably sat in her throne.

when the door opens he'll find her there, the lighting casting part of the room in a reddish glow, and a fonder look on rowena as he walks in. she still doesn't know him but his words at agreeing to protect her from lucifer had certainly done wonders in gaining some friendlier feeling with her. and dean's trust in him )

Welcome to Hell.

( so she's still a little dramatic, staying seated as he steps further in, a little wave of a hand to beckon him in. please, come see your queen )

[ His eyes shift upward to the ceiling before landing back on her. He does not, in fact, have much conception of what Hell is meant to appear like, other than what he glimpsed in Dean's memories—which did not contain nearly as pleasant company.

Amusement flickers over his gaze. He folds his arms across his chest. Good to know some things don't change between spheres. (Things, in this specific circumstance, being sorceresses and their penchant for theatrics.)

At least there are no naked men trying to grope him. ]

Should I have brought a sacrifice?

( yet. rowena saves the delightful things for later.

or has specific naked men in mind.

but his comment does amuse her, a lighter sound from her before she leans slightly forward )

My predecessors may have enjoyed that. How I treat the damned is... not to all demon's tastes but they're not fool enough to challenge that.

( rowena may only be a soul in hell but she still terrifies them, for they know far well the stories of the witch that she was. and how effectively she could kill demons. or cage lucifer. or push back god )

Though some offerings are still appreciated.

( what queen doesn't want to be worshipped a little? )

[ Mm-hm. The sound Geralt makes is ambiguous—vague acknowledgement wrapped in something that might almost pass for intrigue.

He tilts his head before remarking, ] I haven't got any.

[ Unless she wishes to count his less-than-elegant company as one. He steps forward, nodding towards the door to the left. He assumes it's there for a reason, though if she means to drink here, he won't complain. There's a sense that Geralt can make himself comfortable in any place by sheer virtue of never quite belonging anywhere to begin with.

Mostly, he's as curious about Rowena as she seems to be about him. Perhaps they've that in common. ]

And behind that door, will I find the damned or liquor?

( it's that curiosity, that tug of intrigue that pulls rowena from her throne now, almost gliding with how smooth her motion in getting up is, and a hand reaches out to him as she steps towards the door )

Liquor and more.

( but not damned. she's the only soul existing in this hell even if rowena is technically alive again within abraxas, though in horizon it's not quite the same physicality. to her. it gets complicated when you're dead.

but as the door opens geralt will note the hallway it leads into, the wording written on the floor and a very specific path that rowena taked to one more door: her apartment.

opening this one leads to a much more welcoming place, the comfort of a well-lived apartment, well-lit by the number of candles she has lighting it, and though a few of her books are out on her desk they're all closed for once. drinks are already poured, though, two glasses sitting on her coffee table that she picks up to hand one to him before sitting herself on her couch. she's a prepared witch )

This was where I lived before I died, and where my life was.

[ Geralt follows her through the door. The room is a contrast to the stark throne behind them. It reminds him of the homes he's seen in his time here, lit with electric bulbs rather than torches.

His expression shifts. She is not the first who arrived after her death. Then there are those like Dean, who recall it afterwards, and then—like him. He does not recall his, but Ciri has told him it came during her time.

He accepts the drink, sitting across from her. (Plush.) It smells of herbs and magic. Reminds him of a druid's hut. ]

Were you born a witch?

( there's a soft affirmative sound, and whilst it's a little more complicated in some ways (her parents weren't witches, her son wasn't a witch) she was certainly born with a natural capacity for magic. a witch.

she drinks a little from her glass before resting it between both of her hands )

I didn't always know magic, witches weren't thought of fondly then. ( but learning how to use magic had been her best life decision -- and one that she'd needed at that pitiful time of her life )

Were you born a Witcher?

[ Then implies a certain stretch of years; if he knows anything about mages, they're seldom as youthful as their looks. Though, neither is a Witcher. ]

No. We were created with alchemy and magic.

[ By mages. Like her, he nearly says, but perhaps not; he imagines there must be some difference in how they call upon their magic. Still, even here in Abraxas, he knows Yennefer feels her Chaos much the same as she did on the Continent. If the Singularity is truly the source of all power in the universe, then...that would follow, logically.

He's glossing over some of the details, anyhow. It isn't important. He came here for a drink, not to reminisce on his unwanted childhood. Instead, he adds: ]

They aren't fond of us, either.

( there's a regretful tip of her glass, not toasting but understanding. rowena might have narrowly avoided being burned at the stake but she'd seen plenty of other witches, both friend and coven, suffer that fate. and how she'd wanted to burn the men of letters responsible for doing it.

and maybe she would have, if she hadn't been chased out of scotland instead. she won't call it a mercy but it did give her her life )

You may be made through magic but I assume you don't practice it?

( otherwise she assumes he'd be speaking differently about it )

[ Now it's his turn to give a noise that suggests the answer isn't so straightforward. ]

Witchers have Signs to aid us in battle, but we don't practice as a witch might. Though the potential exists.

[ It's not unlike how a mage could learn sword fighting if they wanted, but generally wouldn't bother. They focus on what serves them, he supposes, and wielding a blade has little value for manoeuvring the Continent's kings and queens. Alongside the fact that his mother was a druid, if his path had travelled another direction, perhaps he'd be a mage, too. Of a kind.

But it didn't. ]

I taught Dean his Signs.

[ Dean's actually grown fairly good at them. ]

( a raise of an eyebrow because that fact is certainly interesting. oh, dean and magic is nothing new, he isn't studied as samuel is but even dean uses magic when it serves him. all hunters have a trick or two in their arsenal.

but she's certainly more curious about what geralt's magic constitutes )

Signs are similar to spells, though I assume more specific ones for the purpose you need?

( and she certainly sounds interested in knowing more )

[ A man of action more than words, Geralt simply demonstrates: he snuffs out the candle on the table, then relights it with a touch and a faint sizzle. One of only a few Signs he possesses. She's right; they're designed for a handful of orphaned boys to learn quickly. Little concentration required. Unlike other sorceresses and magic users he's met, there is no flash to it—easily missed if one weren't watching.

Then he sits back and picks up his drink again. It's certainly not something anyone should be capable of. On the Continent, there are those predisposed to magic, those who are not, and then—of his kind—those were made to be by manipulating the laws of nature itself.

Dean should not be capable of wielding magic. He isn't a Witcher. But these days, Geralt has to admit, the man is a bit closer to one than he isn't. Has Rowena seen his eyes yet? That has been curious, to be certain. ]

And you? [ He studies her. ] What's your specialty?

[ Aside from ruling the underworld, that is. ]

abraxas:: INBOX

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🎀 wrap soon?