WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!

[abraxasmods]

WELCOME TO THE FREE CITIES!

Welcome to The Free Cities! The portal exits outside the capital city of Cadens. The first impression of the city is its sheer size. It sprawls out across the landscape like a great hulking beast at rest. The wall that encircles it barely contains it, the buildings of Cadens practically bulging against its restraint.

The air here seems thicker somehow, tinged with a scent that’s acrid and smoky. Smog hangs high over the city, belched out by smokestacks that tower over the industrial district. The desert stretches out behind it, dotted with towers and dust clouds that disappear into the horizon. Multiple gates lead inside and each is staffed by soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms that wave a steady stream of people through without appearing to pay much attention. People are coming and going almost all of the time, to and from the outposts and areas of activity around the city proper. It’s difficult to tell just what’s out there beyond the impression of tall metal structures and a great deal of labor. Wagons carrying travelers to Libertas and Aquila roll out from the Travel Post outside the city wall.

Anyone who can sense magic will notice a much lower concentration here. No one will be stopped or questioned at the gate, even if the soldiers seem to take note of the fugitives from Thorne.

The activity and sheer number of citizens can be overwhelming. It’s crowded and loud and feels constantly in motion with everyone talking and yelling over each other. It’s easy to get swept up in the ever-moving throng or find oneself ducking into the mouth of a narrow alley just to breathe.

Anyone who’s willing to make their way to the northern part of the city and Portham Hall will find Prime Minister Marlo Reiner available to receive them.

Comments

[falcony]

[ sam snorts at geralt's comment, if only it were that easy. ]

I know the right mage. His magic's just not there yet.

[ he just doesn't like feeling secluded. for better or worse, his home had connections. the internet, his phones, cars and planes and trains to take them wherever he wanted to go. his wings, too, if need be. ways for him to get out, to see the world, to keep in touch with everyone and to cross-check if they weren't. the free cities already feels better than thorne, sure, but it's still not good.

if anything, the jailbreak and subsequent settling in is the only thing that has kept him sane. finding places for food, talking his way through small jobs for a place to stay, keeping a handle on mal and on alina and peter. it kept him busy and kept him from losing his mind, yes, but there is still that anxiety. that tension. it's not all ironed out yet, so when will the next shoe drop?

geralt says i met him and sam's attention shifts over to him, the sudden realization that oh. oh that would be right. not everyone is going to know the winter soldier just because he does, and it's not like buck is a go-around and introduce himself to the class kind of guy. sam laughs, though the sound has a hint of stress in it, like sam is doing his best to keep up that everything is fine air about the conversation. ] I'm sure you had a lot to talk about. [ which is a friendly jab, accompanied by a grin and a small laugh, before sam tries to go back to the conversation but finds himself stuttering over geralt's offer.

oh. oh. that would make sense, wouldn't it? that they're out of the prison cells, and so they have access to all their...witcher things. sam tries to remember what geralt had told him, back in their first conversation, but comes up blank for the time being. ] Oh. That- actually, man, that would be amazing. [ sam had been telling himself it was fine, because he knows it's fine. he knows. but he also doesn't have time to be looking around, anxious, trying to find bucky barnes. not when that asshole is a trained assassin and sam already put in years looking for him.

he gives geralt something of a relieved look at the idea of it, alone. ] Even just a general direction. I'm just- [ sam huffs out a breath, and it does sound as tired and tense as he feels, if only for that moment, as he runs a half across the back of his neck. ] It would be a huge help.

[gynvael]

[ Curiosity rises at that—what mage, whose magic is still lacking?—but it's overshadowed by the edge he can hear in Sam's voice.

For the first time, Geralt peers at Sam like he's really looking at him—something that borders on mild concern in his eyes. There's a frayed quality to Sam that isn't usually there. He can't tell if there's something more going on Sam isn't letting on or if he's just that fucking exhausted. Geralt understands. He's been wound up for weeks and even now, he hasn't fully been able to let go, to release all that pressure at once. Some part of him his afraid what might happen if he does.

He lets it go. Talking won't help; getting Sam to the last person he's looking for will. ]

We'll find him. [ His voice is firm. He can do better than a general direction. All he needs is a trail—or the start of one. Feels a bit like shaking off cobwebs, but falling into it isn't hard, either: monster or person, tracking them is the same. It's good to do something for once. To finally be back to himself, to do the work that he knows like the back of his hand. ]

You know where he likes to stay? Something he'd be looking for?

[ They can start there. Bucky is on foot, like all of them. Possible the man might have hitched a wagon. Doubtful, though. Sam made plans to meet him here. Bucky would stay nearby. He has to be somewhere, in the bustling crowd. They'll look further, if need be. Or return to the portal site, if they have to. He's leaving that for when they're at a dead end. So many people were at those damn gates, he already knows any trail he picks up will go cold quickly once they reach the city proper again. ]

[falcony]

[ sam would be happy to explain it, if geralt had chosen to ask. stephen strange hadn't been someone who sam thought he'd ever be close enough to to even consider portal jumping, but he also supposes that this place and this experience has brought around stranger things.

but sam doesn't really notice how much geralt may or may not be watching him. doesn't notice if he's maybe pushing through the cracks more than he means to. it say something that once again, sam feels comfortable enough to let himself get this far. that he doesn't find himself really all that worried, if geralt is getting a look at his unfinished edges.

geralt says we'll find him and sam realizes, in that exact moment, how much worry and concern he'd built up around that. that he actually isn't fully convinced of anything. there is a relief that comes with geralt's conviction, even if sam hadn't been aware he needed it in the first place. ]

He's good at laying low. He knew to meet here, so I don't think he would have taken any of the wagons. He'd keep away from the barracks or anything too organized and would keep to more crowded spaces. [ and you know, it probably says something, that all he learned over those years with steve, hunting down the winter soldier, has somehow still prepared him for this. that he'd need his research on finding bucky barnes even now. he thinks back on how they tracked him, before.

it's frustrating, in a lot of ways, but sam reminds himself to calm down. bucky knew where they were going. knew what was happening. he just has to figure out where he went from there. ] He's good at heights, too. Used to watching things from up high.

[gynvael]

[ The man Geralt had met was nothing like who Sam's describing. Someone who casually greeted his horse and told him the cities had better dance partners. Sam's talking about a man who's learned to disappear, who Sam seems to expect to stay hidden despite their agreement to meet up. It sparks a sudden, different interest.

It also makes it easier to work with. Sounds like something Geralt would do, if he weren't with Jaskier and Ciri. Vanish, find some place to settle alone without drawing attention. He turns down the narrow street that leads towards the back alleys of Cadens, streets he picked out the moment he set foot in this place. Cheap inns, old shops tucked away where small bits of supplies can be bought or even stolen. Around here might be it.

Tracking in the city is more difficult than in the woods: more people, more smells, more footprints. If Sam says anything, he'll answer, but—mostly he's quiet as he searches, and it isn't difficult to tell he is, in fact, scenting the air. He peers into shops and behind taverns without a word, like he's used to going about his work while people stare or ignore him as they will. So long as they don't move to throw him out, Geralt seems to pay them no attention. As the night dwindles, so do the people lingering. So do the number of places they've yet to look.

Nothing so far. It's only been, what. Barely two days? If there's a trail, it should be here. It can't dissipate that quickly.

When he finally turns around to face Sam, it's not with the first question that's on his mind. No point in going there unless he has to. Instead, he asks, ] You're certain he wouldn't have hitched a wagon?

[falcony]

[ sam explains what he can about bucky barnes to geralt like he's a target, and that feeling curls in his gut. a feeling that sam hated before, and hates even more now, at how it's still somehow familiar. tracking bucky barnes shouldn't feel like this, not anymore, and yet sam feels the tension rising in his throat.

he does trust geralt, that's the other part of this. he hasn't seen whatever his witcher abilities are in action, but if the man offers, sam can only imagine that they'll come into play. and that is mostly what sam sees, once they start off - a kind of focus, a kind of awareness, a kind of something that he can only follow, only keep his eyes out, only feel out of place. it tightens something in his chest, the more out of his depth he feels. the fact that bucky is here somewhere, has to be here somewhere, said he would meet him on the other side...

and then the night gets dark. the streets start to clear. sam senses geralt has come to something of an end of his search just as the other man turns to face him, and a sickening, heavy feeling sinks in his gut. bucky can't be that good at disappearing, but maybe he can? (or maybe that's just hope, desperately working its way up through that weight, trying, trying-)

the question has sam's eyes darting down the street they're on, as if someone could be listening in, even if he knows that isn't the case. really, sam's starting to feel what is probably that first question that geralt chooses not to ask taking shape somewhere in his throat.

he shakes his head. ] Not unless he was chased out. I told him to meet me here. [ and bucky wouldn't break that promise.

there's a pause, and then sam turns back to face geralt fully - like he's accepted his fate, like he already knows the answer. there's a tension in his jaw and a darkness in his stomach when he asks: ]

You can't find him, can you?

[gynvael]

[ In the midst of Sam's rising tension, Geralt ignores it while he works. He hasn't got space to do both—so he keeps his focus on tracking down this man who apparently is nowhere to be found. By now, the stars have lit up the sky for hours. Not until he's stopped, until he's looking Sam in the eyes does he let himself acknowledge the heavy shadow he can see there.

It's familiar, that look. That sinking feeling he can read on Sam's face. Like you've lost something you didn't realize was missing until it was too late.

He exhales. Shit. ] No. [ He hasn't made a habit of lying or honeying his words. He isn't about to disrespect Sam by starting now. His friend isn't here. It doesn't matter how good a man is at disappearing. If he were present, Geralt would've found him. A trace of him, at the very least. ] The gates will tell us if he ever came through at all.

[ If there's no sign of Bucky in Cadens—they both know where this is going. If Sam wants him to confirm, though, he will. They can make that trek to the portal site. Take one last look. An hour is a long time and no time at all. He doesn't know, either, how long Sam stayed himself. If the portals collapsed early, if the magic wore off, if Thorne was able to snatch the few who were too slow. Geralt had walked out as soon as he could, as soon as Yennefer was...for exactly that reason, he hadn't wanted to push it.

Though there is one thing he won't bring up, unless Sam ever tells him that Bucky has vanished even from the Horizon—and it's that there's a third possiblity: that Bucky went through the portal in Thorne but never came out the other side. ]

[falcony]

[ sam honestly appreciates that geralt ignores his rising tension, if only because sam wouldn't know what to do with geralt's attention to it. he's having a hard enough time dealing with it himself. having a place to go, something to do, it does help. gives him something to focus on, if not entirely, then something. but as they make it through the rest of the city, as they finally come to a stopping point, sam can't ignore it any longer.

geralt doesn't even need to answer, but when he does, sam shouldn't be surprised. he knows by the moment it takes, by the sound of the exhale. no. no, he didn't make it to the city. and even as geralt offers up another choice, that they could go to the gates to make sure, that there is one more thing to check, but sam knows. and if geralt is looking, he can probably see sam go through that process of knowing. of feeling the information settle, of coming to terms with it. bucky is either gone, completely, or he's still in thorne. in enemy territory. in danger.

sam nods, a hand coming up to rub at his chin as he considers - considers what, he's not entirely sure. how would he get back there, anyway? they were months of travel away, if not more, and sure, maybe strange could get him closer. but was that smart? what about peter? and mal and alina? and what would ambrose do after all of this? how would he react to all of them getting out? ]

Fuck. [ it comes out as a hiss under his breath, adamant despite how quite the word sounds at first. his mind is spinning as he turns towards the street - away from geralt, just for a moment, his voice a bit louder the second time. ] Fuck.

[ he needs to think - there has to be some way to figure out what happened to bucky. has to be some magical connection or communication. it's taking everything in him not to simply get up, pack up, and make his way back to thorne, but that is as ridiculous idea of any of the others. if anything the prime minister said is true, then ambrose is going to be more than just a little angry at what happened, and while he knows bucky is good at keeping low, knows that it wouldn't be bucky's first time in dangerous territory...

it comes to sam, a few moments later, that he's still standing in the middle of the road or alley or wherever it is they'd come to a stop. that geralt is still standing there, probably concerned at what sam was trying to figure out. he feels bad, he really does, but his attention is elsewhere. ]

Sorry, man. I've got to- [ figure out what i'm doing. sam rubs at the back of his neck, shakes his head. he's itchy, anxious, but he needs to finish this. geralt just went out of his way to help him do something that probably would have taken days, and the appreciation sam feels then is genuine. sam forces himself to pause, just for long enough to speak, ] Thanks, for helping me look. Really. It... [ he exhales, the tension leaving him for just long enough that geralt good - if he was looking - see a bit of the underpinning of panic taking its place. because that's the truth of all of this, isn't it? sam is worried about what he's left bucky in. about what he doesn't know, and can't know, from where he is now. he'd come to the free cities thinking it would mean everything would be okay for a little bit, but he should have known better. he is captain america, for fuck's sake. ]

It helped a lot.

[ that is when sam covers it back again, settles it back into something a bit more contained. a bit more action focused. ] I've got to get back, but- I'll talk to you later, okay?

[gynvael]

[ They are, in fact, standing in the middle of the road, something Geralt makes no effort to rectify. Rather, he moves around Sam, blocking the narrow path—both to encourage those wandering the late night streets to find another route and to grant the two of them a modicum of privacy. Or Sam, mostly. Sam, who's far more rattled than Geralt's ever seen him.

His brows draw together. He can see Sam working through it. He lets him, keeping silent. This isn't the first time he's delivered shit news. Not every contract ends with a monster dead and a loved one reunited in one piece. He just doesn't often do it with those who aren't strangers. With someone he's come to consider...more than a simple acquaintance. It leaves him uneasy and, underneath that, frustrated. Like there's more he should be able to do, even if there isn't.

Concern grows. He knows what he'd be thinking if he discovered Jaskier hadn't made it through. If Yennefer had been left behind unknowingly instead of making her choice. (If Ciri—but that's not a concept he'll even entertain.) He gets it, he does, but he also knows it's a fucking fool's errand if Sam's thoughts are venturing anywhere near the idea of returning to Thorne. Even with a horse, that's a hell of a journey across unknown territory. And Thorne's thick with magic and mages. A portal would never go unnoticed.

Sam's not a rash man, usually. But this isn't usual. ]

Hey. [ He catches Sam by the arm before Sam can leave. He has no apologies or reassurances about what's happened or what might happen. Empty platitudes are not his way. Instead, he says, ] I found your home in the Horizon. He can, too.

[ Prisoner or no—that's the one thing none of them have been barred from. If the man's alive, that should be the first place to turn to. ]

[falcony]

[ sam would appreciate the effort taken to give him the privacy. he's not usually this off, either, and should be better about how much he's left his guard open. the scene he's making. the fact he hears one piece of news and all but totally closes up. sam knows better, and when he's on his own later that night he's going to beat himself up over this fact. he has to do better, be better - he's captain freaking america, after all. there's a lot more riding on these new factions, on making sure everyone stays together, on figuring a way home than bucky barnes being unable to keep to a timer.

he needs to get his shit together. figure out what he has available to him, what he can actually do versus what he wants to do. the idea of snagging a horse and starting off tonight is there, because of course it is, but sam isn't that impulsive. no matter what the tightening in his chest and the humming in his head is saying, he can look at this realistically. he can.

( it's just a matter of whether or not he wants to. )

hey - geralt's low voice cuts through sam's thoughts, and the hand around his bicep pulls his attention. sam blinks, suddenly aware that he'd been actually walking off. suddenly made aware just how out of it he must have been. his eyes go to geralt's hand, then to his face - it's not accusatory, it's not angry. if anything, sam is just realizing he hadn't even been thinking about how close they were and how crazy he must be coming across as, if geralt thought it necessary to actually catch him before he wandered off. ]

That- [ sam exhales, some of that panicked tension going with the breath. ] No, you're right. That's a good idea. [ because it is a good idea. the horizon he can get to whenever. doesn't have to plan for travel, doesn't have to figure out the politics of what it might mean. he should have thought of that, himself, but he'd been too shaken by the news to do anything about it. even now, he still sounds a bit distracted, still not entirely there, but better than before. something about having a plan, a next step, is helping sam feel more grounded than before. like there's something for him to do. somewhere for him to go. when he does pull himself from geralt a step or so, it's with a small, but genuinely appreciative smile. ]

I'll check in with you later. Thanks, man. [ and with a nod, sam turns to start off back in the direction of his apartment. ]