[ Circumstances do have the tendency to sound tame when coming from Geralt. He prefers not to dally over the gritty details. Serves not much purpose.
A nod—a wry twitch to his lips at her remark. Then the conversation turns on him, and he blinks once.
He makes a soft noise. Reaches out to steady the ladder as she climbs back up. ] Moving on. Same as any other time.
[ His version of fine is less a matter of putting on a mask; it's simply that nothing has changed for him. He's slept like shit for the past several decades; what difference does it make now? The shadows take different forms, perhaps, but the darkness they cast is the same.
He's learned to live with them. He doesn't really know how to be any other way. ]
no subject
A nod—a wry twitch to his lips at her remark. Then the conversation turns on him, and he blinks once.
He makes a soft noise. Reaches out to steady the ladder as she climbs back up. ] Moving on. Same as any other time.
[ His version of fine is less a matter of putting on a mask; it's simply that nothing has changed for him. He's slept like shit for the past several decades; what difference does it make now? The shadows take different forms, perhaps, but the darkness they cast is the same.
He's learned to live with them. He doesn't really know how to be any other way. ]