𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐛𝐬;

[mobezon]

WHO: louis & co.
WHAT: catch all for post event, ect.
WHERE: horizon. solvunn. nocwich.
WHEN: april showers & may flowers.
WARNINGS: ptsd aspects might arise and any canon usual warnings will be tagged.

 

Comments

[mobezon]

I was just curious if executions are common around here. Let alone considering it a joyous affair. Haven’t had those since well over a few centuries and beyond my time. Not openly at least.

{ he’s well aware there was a voting on the acolytes’ fate and how close it had been. executions over all make him have vertigo on the subject, and he clenches the book in his hand before he realizes it. he doesn’t care about the traitor, but the means itself was enough for louis to retreat. it’s too close. it’s subconscious, pulling from a pained memory he prefers to keep buried. his grip loosens and his expression remains poise as to remove any potential reaction.

the first thing he created had been the bench he’s sitting upon. it works to recenter him. it feels right. louis shakes his head lightly. solvunn is ironically on the down low, an exception when they’re crossed apparently. }

After the speeches in the pit, I think we’ve had our share of them. You seem like the sort that can carry alcohol trice your weight.

[gynvael]

[ The question, somehow, catches Geralt off guard. He blinks. It has not occurred to him there could be places where executions aren't common. ]

Where I'm from, you're liable to be executed for as little as slighting the town mayor. Not much different here.

[ Thorne sentenced one of the Summoned to a hanging in the first few months; now that Geralt is in the Free Cities, he's well aware the military carries out its share of beheadings.

He studies Louis for a moment: the curl of his fingers, the sharp tension. Geralt hasn't got an opinion one way or another; unlike the typical townsfolk, he does not rely on the laws to resolve his problems. And he does not meddle in how humans choose to govern their own. (Except when he does, rather publicly, at a royal banquet, but that's neither here nor there.)

The topic shifts, and Geralt goes with it. He raises an eyebrow. If they're talking, they may as well drink. ] Have you got something to offer?

[mobezon]

{ he can take personal to a different level, but only when those he cares deeply for are involved. he has to remind himself that it happened a long time ago. clinging to the past might not benefit, and he isn’t the superstitious sort, but perhaps his fortune may have a point about him moving on? louis does not think he deserves to move on. geralt’s brushing over the subject helps, maybe even eases him enough to let go of the tension he had begun to feel creep up.

new world. new set of rules. he was never good at following rules for long. his smile is polite. }

Vampire society also has them if we broke sacred rules, but I’ll spare you the monster talk. I did not associate with them much, and my word stand on it.

{ just a way of easing it, even if it weighs. he considers how the horizon works, how he’d been told, even if he prefers to keep grounded. new rules. he reaches down under the bench and there lays a bottle he’d manifested. he sets it down next to him, finding a cozy spot on the bench area next to him. there’s a heavy scent of whiskey. }

Forbidden alcohol. Outlawed for some time in public. Cheap, smuggled. Made it prized in the districts. Context changes everything. Have at it. It’ll grantee to burn your throat.

[gynvael]

[ The tilt of his lips is brief, wry. ] We lived by our own creed, too. And not everything with teeth makes a monster.

[ Though he finds it interesting Louis distance himself from his own kind. Does he regret it? What he is? Vampires aren't created in Geralt's world. They're born that way, a species from another sphere who spilled onto the Continent during the Conjunction. Elusive, except for those who can't help feeding on townsfolk. It's still yet to occur to Geralt that Louis is different.

Speaking of things yet to occur to him: the concept of alcohol being widely prohibited. Geralt reaches for the golden whiskey, eyebrow raised. He sniffs the bottle. Hm. ]

They outlawed your liquor? What the fuck for?

[ He can't imagine walking into a tavern and finding no ale or wine served. What would one even drink? Rainwater? Fresh-squeezed fruit? ]

[mobezon]

Were there many of your coven back home? There ain't many of us. My companions themselves have only been vampires. Had to be.

{ which is opposing to the statement he said earlier, considering his disdain on a personal level. he hadn't forgotten their first meeting and he may have held onto some questions. louis is still gathering a scope on geralt. there is no strong emotion in a particular way, all he finds is that he wants to understand the man further. they might as well talk while drinking. louis has his sense of taste again for foods and liquids, but only if it's what he knows or if someone else offers their own. he crosses a leg over the other. }

Very American is what it is. A country too ambitious for what it can give. It was meant to reduce crime. Just politics and trying to control populations. It only made the red-light district thrive, considering we were given an area to practice the "illicit". Sex work is another term for it.

{ which is already revealing in itself to his past connections to what would cause side eye. louis has his grey morale. he's still trying to figure out what he wants others to know. }

[gynvael]

[ He hums. Politics and religion. It's always one of the two. Often both. He's been introduced to the concept of the Americas, at least; they're a good portion of the Summoned population for reasons Geralt cannot discern but has mostly accepted.

We is term he takes note of. Not they. ] Sounds like you thrived, too.

[ He lets that remark sit for a moment, whether Louis chooses to expand on it or not, before circling back to the vampire's first question. He sniffs the bottle, then swallows some of the whisky. It is good. Strong. ]

We were never many. But there are even less now. Not any way to make more of us, so... [ He shrugs. It's an old wound, one that's long scabbed over. A conflicting one. It is impossible to want to revive the practice of how Witchers are created. But it would not be accurate to say that he's glad his people will soon die out.

Perhaps he simply wishes none of it happened in the first place. But that isn't how things work. ]

When the last of us falls, that'll be all.