[ CLOSED ] if i say your name

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: April
Where: Cadens; Horizon
What: Catch-all for April, post-event
Warnings: General Witcher stuff, trauma, small felines, the usual. NSFW marked.



(( starters in the comments below. find me at discontinued or at Noa#1979 to plot stuff! ))

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[tobeclosetohim]

[ She wasn't ever forged to be that. Burden. Weight. She wouldn't recognize how to go along with all the first steps of it. She was built to be ballast. (How a few days ago was Dean crying into her shoulder, wrapped in the circle of her arms, only hours after shattering a good half of her face, because she knew better than anyone she couldn't be anywhere else—any-thing else—and still keep what little balance on the head of a pin was left.)

There's a small snort. It's not a laugh. Not light.
There's a stillness in her bones so solid it shakes. ]

I don't even know how far back into the beginning of my childhood I'd have to go for those kinds of numbers. [ There's no derision or dismissal in it. Not judgment, oneupmanship, or comparison. It's a fact. As basic as her hair being the blonde of her father's. Every person came in carrying their first and worst, and she held it for them. Understood. And the ones they carried after, if they were lucky enough to find them, too, out here. And them, too, if it happened.

It's what they did. It was part of who they were. Who she'd been before she walked out. Before the bar blew up. (Before Dean Winchester pulled it here, pristine and perfect, before she was. Before Dean Winchester—) Jo looked up at the ceiling, blinking against that faintest striking that would let out that forbidden burn, and pulled a slow breath in her nose. ]

It's not supposed to get easier.

When it gets easy, you're in the wrong line of work.

[ When this gets easy is when you get more people dead beside you. ]

[gynvael]

[ He hums, acknowledging what she means. He gets it. There would be many, for her. Human hunters, adding up. It's different for him solely because he grew up with only the few who survived the ashes, with the understanding there could never be more like them. A handful that's dwindled further over the years—from a few dozen to twenty to six.

It's a loss of another kind; like her, he isn't really thinking of numbers. It's complicated. The ones lost to the massacre—they weren't family to him when they burned. His early years at the keep were unforgiving in their hands.

But they were still Witchers. And to this day, he has not decided if he mourns them or just the violence. ]

Work can be left behind.

[ This is more than a job. For his kind, but for her, too, he suspects. They can turn down another road, but they never truly leave the Path.

He doesn't add anything further. The rest is left to ambiguity; he's rare to say much, and the truth is, this is more than he's spoken of Dean's death in weeks. To a few others, he's mentioned it in passing—if that. It's been easier to sink into looking after Ciri and the house and all else. ]

[tobeclosetohim]

[ There's the first wrinkle of something that might almost be familiar in her expression at those words. It's nothing near annoyance, but there's a flavor of deeper-than-marrow loyalty to that life, those people, all those deaths in the dark no one would ever know about, that were earned, making a world they didn't know was deep in blood and monsters safer for those unknowing sheep. She doesn't know how not to be the shield, sword, and translator of that life, legacy, those people.

There's none of her familiar fury at anything Jo could have ever perceived (even unmeant) as an insult to her, her life, and her people so many months ago. She's threadbare and still standing as an act of pure will, of not knowing or allowing any other option to exist. After what they've done for Dean. For Cas. After Geralt's own being that close to Dean. After seeing how they never shirked throwing into each of these insane events. After Dean dying in the middle of rescuing far more than just Cas. ]

After all you've seen of us, do you actually think that's true?

[ She could no more leave this behind than just stop breathing.
It was every single bit of what and who she was. ]

[gynvael]

[ He glances up, a little surprised at how she's taken his words. ]

I'm saying it's a life.

[ Work can be left behind, but what they do cannot. She calls it a job, and so does he, and the truth is, that's not really what it is. They don't walk away from it in the same way a stable hand can leave his horses or a blacksmith can hang up his tools.

It's something he's thought about more here. This world has not defined what it means to be a Witcher. And each time, he does not know what else he would do.

But whether she understands where he's coming from is not his main concern, and so that's all the explanation he offers. He doesn't align himself with human hunters at the end of the day. The life he's forged out of what's been given to him is something else altogether. ]

[tobeclosetohim]

[ She can see her mistake the second he looks up. She missed it entirely. What he'd meant under the words. The actual full understanding of that fact.

She's so used to jumping at shadows, at being so entirely off foot with him, of just not being willing to take an ounce of that faith Dean had well and truly jumped beyond. She doesn't know if she has that in her. Anywhere. Of any kind. Still. But what she knows right now?

Is that it's too heavy to carry that wall of spikes, too, right now.
Not any part of it. Not even a brick. Not the mask of normal.
Not while she's straining to carry everything else.

Her lips press, and it's quiet. ] Sorry.

[ Jo shakes her head, as though there's too much (or too little) in there. ] I'm--

Everything's all-- [ Jo shrugs, a little rudderless, because he knows that, too. ]

[gynvael]

[ Maybe it's the same with him, that uneven footing they've had around each other. He doesn't expect an apology, and it shows.

A long moment passes. He had not anticipated sharing their grief, but whether or not they intended for it to happen, he realizes that is what they've found themselves doing. Hard to say how he feels about it. It isn't anything to do with Jo. Not for this. More...he's used to being alone. Going through the steps alone. ]

I know. [ Yeah. He understands. She needn't explain.

There isn't much more to add; he's aware she's here to work, not linger, and Geralt is not one to extend a conversation once all has been said. When another doctor shows up behind her, waiting to enter the room, he gives Jo a short nod goodbye. ]