abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] here in this garden of bones

[ There are few things to a man than some quality time with his bike and the open road. Even if said bike was actually a remanifestation of a demonic contract. Most people would say that makes it all the more metal, more badass. Dante just says it's nice that it comes without a downpayment or interest.

Sure in Horizon it's not exactly the same thing, but now that the proverbial dust has settled, he's once again left to wandering about the castle or snoozing the day away. With much still on his mind, at least he can get out some of that extra energy in the whole mind palace whatever the Horizon actually is.

And because it's Horizon Dante doesn't actually need his jukebox to jam out while he's going. His motorcycle blasts his chosen background music as he rides between the edges of different domains, paying little attention to the drastic change in landscape and aesthetics. It's that mind clearing kind of numbness he's looking for.

What he isn't expecting, however, is the rumble of another vehicle. Another person of taste? Surely! He purses his lips for a moment before revving the engine and speeds forward towards it. ]

[ Tough to say which he hears first: the music (which is only familiar thanks to Nero...and Dean, once) or the roar of the engine. Both, perhaps. Despite planning on riding alone, he finds himself following the growling cacophony. Spots the flash of white hair that is distinctly not Nero or Thancred.

Mm. About the man he expected now that he's laid on eyes on him. Who in the hell else could it have been?

Geralt pulls forward, slowing to a stop as they begin to cross each other. He's aware of the connection between Nero and Dante, but he knows little beyond that. Nero doesn't speak on it much, and Geralt being Geralt chooses not to pry. But he is curious, after all that happened, how things are. He imagines Dante must've been searching for his nephew. ]

Having a party of one?

Edited 2023-05-10 17:55 (UTC)

[ Well shit, that's definitely not who Dante was expecting. Geralt had more of a "medieval mercenary for hire" vibe going on, but he's got to say, the guy looks like he's meant to be on a bike. Something, something, "on a steel horse I ride" comes to mind.

He slows down so that they're parallel and gives Geralt a tip of his hat. (His cowboy hat because of course he's got it on.) The music turns down to a moderately reasonable degree on its own accord. ]

Like a drifter I was born to walk alone...

[ He pats the handlebar of his bike. ]

...but you're never really alone with one of these babies, eh? I wouldn't mind some company. I didn't realize you had a hog of your own.

[ That remains his overall aura, but several seasons surrounded by folk from other realms has lent to his evolution. Which apparently means a steel horse and the ability to grasp what a movie is.

He can even change the tires.

Geralt gives Dante a look, vaguely bemused. He will not ask. ]

Gift from a friend. [ Hence it's startling accuracy. ] I've grown fond.

[ Unfortunate he can't experience it outside the Horizon, though in truth, it isn't sure he wants to. It's simpler to accept the machine in a place where nothing is quite real. ]

Yours is from home?

That's how you know you've got a good friend.

[ Which, of course, leads into a little inside joke of his own to Geralt's question. He pats the handlebars once again and leans back on the seat. ]

Sure is. Also something of a gift from a friend.

[ If "gift" counts as surprisingly convenient transforming weaponry spawned from freeing said demon friend from being mind-controlled into another demon version of themselves by the deranged full demonsona of your supposed-to-be-dead brother bent on being the king of hell and causing problems as usual.

Just another day that ends in Y, really. ]

Your place isn't too far from here, is it? What do you say to some friendly competition?

[ Mm. Geralt makes a noise that indicates he agrees. He eyes Dante's own machine, curious. There's a different aura about it he can't place his finger on. Not a darkness. Perhaps it matters not in the Horizon. He's aware neither Dante or Nero are fully human.

He raises an eyebrow. A race? ] Why not.

[ He revs the engine, pulling up to what passes for a starting point. Kaer Morhen sits on the other side of the crater—snowy white peaks and looming grey stone that can be seen in the distance.

He waits for Dante to be ready. Then they're off, dust spinning behind the wheels. ]

[ Dante grins at the agreement, makes a motion to adjust riding goggles he doesn't have just for show. (What does Dante do that isn't for show?) He revs his engine right after Geralt and, with a nod, they fly off.

Metaphorically, at first. But it doesn't take long for Dante to start doing Dante things--defying physics in ways that he definitely should not be doing. He bounces off trees, cheers as he jumps off his bike to avoid an obstacle only land back on it immediately after, leans forward and rides on one wheel way longer than he should. Maybe it would be more impressive were it not in the Horizon were such things would be more difficult, but it's clear that Dante does everything in a Dante way.

Whether he actually wants to win the race is up to debate, it does seem like he is happy to have a bit of non-confrontational company. As such, whether it's the needless deviations he made to his route just to show off or have fun, or the fact that Geralt has the clearer head and is the more steady rider, the owner of the Keep is the one who wins.

Dante doesn't seem to upset at coming in second, though. He lets out a hoot as he does a little donut before coming to a stop. ]

Woo! You sure know how to give a guy a run for his money.

[ Geralt, too, isn't precisely trying to win, but nor is he holding back. Unlike Dante, he rides straight and steady, eyeing the other man as he bounces about like a leather ball.

Amusing, how alike Dante and Nero are.

Geralt crosses the arbitrary finish line a hair of a second or two ahead of Dante. He glances back over his shoulder, one eyebrow lifted. ] I had lessons.

[ That, and heightened reflexes make handling a mount simple enough. Especially in the Horizon where nothing matters, anyhow. He shuts off the engine, but doesn't move to enter the keep. Instead, he leans back on the bike, settling in beneath the snow-covered walls of the keep. ]

Your, ah, nephew. First thing he did was race me, too.

[ The mention of Nero immediately simpers Dante's mood. Though his grin doesn't falter, there's a distinct lack of energy rolling off his shoulders than his hooping and hollering had been full of just a moment before.

He likes Geralt, for what little he knows of him, if at least because any time they've interacted it's been casual and unobtrusive. (What can be said about a guy you meet in a hot tub?)

(Actually, don't answer that.)

Right. There are a handful of people that know a bit of the family business, don't they? At least he trusts Geralt not to be the kind of person who would spread that around for shits and giggles. ]

That so?

[ Dante settles, placing his hands at his hips but he leaves his bike on for the moment. He casts a glance towards the other man. ]

Now my pride's on the line--did you beat his butt too?

[ Dante's reaction to Nero reminds him of himself once, with Ciri, before he grew to take her as his own: uncertain, subdued. He's gathered well enough that there's some contention between them.

His lips quirk. ] He'll claim I didn't.

[ Geralt hadn't argued the point then. Their race is not why he brought Nero up. It's that—he knows Nero is getting by, on the surface, but the last time they spoke, he gets the sense there's much Nero isn't saying.

He isn't worried, exactly. But he likes the boy, and more and more, he feels the instinct to look out for Nero. The way he used to with his brothers. ]

Have you spoken to him? Since he returned?

[ Dante's lips do quirk at the comment. That sounds about right. He could imagine that Nero gave him one hell of a ride, though. Kinda wishes he'd been able to see it for himself.

The question makes that same little quirk flicker for a moment before Dante forces the smile to widen. Smiles are easy when they're practiced.

He's thought about it. Boy has he. When he learned that Nero had safely returned, the weight on his shoulders finally lifted.

He's fine.

He's okay.

He'll be okay, because throughout all the shit he's been through, Nero ended up better than all of them could have ever hoped to be. ]

The kid's got enough on his plate right now.

[ "No" is the straightforward answer he's refusing to say. Dante finally kills the ignition on his bike and kicks out the stand. ]

Last thing he needs is an old fart leering over his shoulder.

[ It would not be accurate to say Geralt is expecting that answer, but he can't claim it comes as a surprise, either. He folds his arms as he rests against the bike. It typically isn't his business. With anyone else, it would not be. He'd be content to leave the matter alone.

While he is not near as familiar with Dante, he does know Nero well. And perhaps he understands the feeling of the last thing they need. The last thing he thought Ciri needed was a Witcher taking her from her life as a princess. Perhaps at the time, he'd been right. Perhaps he had not. But he does know, whether he meant to claim her or not, he should not have ignored her existence entirely. ]

Is that what he told you? [ His voice is soft, but there's a pointed note beneath it. ] Or is that what you've told yourself?

[ Whatever Nero's relationship with Dante, he doubts Nero would mince words when it comes to what he wants. If he did not want Dante there, he imagines Nero would easily tell Dante to fuck off. But he suspects Dante has never given Nero the chance one way or another. ]

[ Dante is perfectly happy looking anywhere but at Geralt. It's not like the knows the other man that well, but there's a look of judgment that he doesn't want to face coming from anyone asking about how he handled...all of that. Because he knew it was shit. And he'd really rather not think about it.

(Because that's worked so well for him in the past.)

Dante purses his lips, considering the question despite himself. Just because he doesn't want to think about it doesn't mean he isn't.

Of course he didn't ask Nero. No one in their messed up family ever asks, because asking opens too many doors to answers you don't want to or aren't ready to hear. Most of the time Dante can take Nero's insults and accusations--valid though they are, sometimes just born years of anger--but at times when he knows the kid's well-being is at stake, it matters more. Like this.

He swallows and casts a quick glance towards Geralt before swinging his leg over the bike to dismount. ]

Sometimes you don't need to ask.

[ It's a shit answer for a shit situation. ]

Why, did you?

[ That is a shit answer for a shit situation. Dante seems all too aware. Geralt doesn't press the point. It's been made.

It strikes him Dante's no doubt clueless that he'd been captured, too. That he was there alongside Nero. Not as though anyone ever formally drew up a list (that he's aware of, at least). With miles separating their borders, how would Dante have known?

A small pause as he considers noting that detail. Decides it isn't important to the conversation at the moment. ]

Yes. [ They hadn't had a heart to heart. Nero isn't the type. He'd simply shown up to see for himself how Nero was. The boy's not difficult to read. ] I won't tell you what to do. But I spent the better part of a century convincing myself there were none who needed me. I nearly lost them for it.

[ He'd found them, in the end. Ciri, Jaskier, Yennefer. Still—he so easily could have not. He understands now that more than being needed, he fears not being there when he should be. ]

Edited 2023-06-11 07:34 (UTC)

[ Yes.

He spoke with Nero, huh?

Being able to brush all his family issues under a rug has been the way to deal with it for decades, except when it inevitably comes to head in some sort of world-ending scheme thanks to ol' pop's reputation to throw hands for humanity. But it's not just about his and Vergil's complicated relationship anymore. No.

It's about Nero too. And maybe Dante and Vergil can accept that things will never be right, that they're too broken to really make it work, that family can be the beginning and end of you... it doesn't mean that Nero has to.

And he shouldn't. He's better than the both of them.

Geralt's warning, said so simply, rings loud and clear in Dante's ears. He doesn't ask the details for the same reasons that Geralt doesn't ask Dante--it's none of his business and if there's one thing can do is respect another man's desire for privacy.

I nearly lost them for it.

But the fear of loss is the greatest fear of all; he lost his mother, his home, his brother several times over... is he ready to lose the nephew he really only recently found too? To his own insecurities and maladaptive behaviors?

Dante hangs his head for a moment. ]

Yeah.

[ That's the only acknowledgment he will give--to Geralt's admission, to his own acceptance. But it is an acknowledgment. He's done something and he still has a chance to correct it.

He owes Geralt one.

Dante huffs, lifting a brow as he glances towards the other man. ]

"Better part of a century", huh? You look good for your age.

[ The pithy reply earns a nod from Geralt in return. More needn't be said. Truth be known, it's more than he'd have said to someone with whom he's superficially familiar at best. He likes Dante. They simply don't know each other well. Now that he's said his piece—the rest is on the other man.

Besides. Family is what you make of it. Blood is not the only part that binds you together. Sometimes it isn't a point at all. Sometimes your blood abandons you, and you find your place elsewhere. More than anyone, he understands family is what you build with your hands. It doesn't just come to you and stay.

And maybe he knows what it's like to have who you thought was family turn away from you. When you need them most.

A silence falls. Then his lips quirk as Dante shifts the topic. ] So I've been told. We age slowly.

[ Is Dante the same? Part human can mean many things, as he's learned from Alucard. Perhaps there is no roadmap for their kind, either. Something which only exists because of an unexpected union. Vampire and human. Demon and human. ]

[ Family is definitely a messy business, no matter how you cut it. A shame that people aren't always able to choose it. Dante isn't sure he'd be able to make the change himself, but Nero is, at least, someone who deserves the option to rid himself of that association.

He's got a feeling the kid would call him a dumbass for that, though. Which he is, so fair all around. ]

We do?

[ Geralt has the aura about him of the kind of man who's seen a lot of shit and, because of it, doesn't see the point in going into it. You can pack a lot into a few short years, but stretched over decades is another story entirely.

He rubs his chin as he gives Geralt a full once over. ]

Unfortunately, some of us are just young at heart.

[ Granted, he's got no clue where he'll be at in fifty years if he lives that long. Vergil looked pretty good all things considered...

...after he rejoined with his human side and stopped being a demonic abomination that was literally veined into a giant hell tree.

Long story. ]

But you're not alone, it sounds like like.

Mm. [ Young at heart sounds about right. As far as he can tell, Nero is precisely the age he looks and equally young at heart. Perhaps it runs in the family. ] I wasn't at home. I am here. Though there were never many of us left.

[ Has he reflected on what it means to be the last of his kind? A bit. It's not as if the possibility of it never occurred to him. Dying out as they are, every Witcher knows he may be the last to survive. Now that it's come to pass, it's...

Maybe that's why he's been building something else. With the others he's discovered in this world. Geralt will frequently say he prefers his solitude, and that's true. That's how he spent his lifetime. But he grew up surrounded by brothers. He returned to them each winter for their camaraderie. It's more accurate to say that he prefers being alone over being with a stranger who can't possibly understand the path he walks. And here, he's found those who do understand.

Nero was one of the first to fall into that category. They've grown close as a result. ]

Edited 2023-06-27 18:21 (UTC)

[ A kind though, but really stupidity runs in the family. Don't ask Vergil how his skin looks so smooth, it's just a lot of time in Hell.

Normally this would be the kind of thing that Dante would leave well enough alone. He doesn't talk freely about his own past and origins and respects anyone else and their desire to do the same. But Geralt has open that door and Dante is, admittedly, curious. He knows Nero too--Nero who is far from subtle about.

Well.

Everything.

So maybe there's quite a bit he knows already. ]

"Us"?

[ Certain topics, Geralt does not mind broaching. What he is falls under that category. He's not human whether there or on this sphere, and it's simpler in his eyes to nip those assumptions in the bud. ]

A Witcher. Created by alchemy and magic to kill monsters. [ His head tips to the side. ] Nero tells me he was trained to do the same as a boy.

[ Their similarities are several deep. He knows Nero was an orphan, was left by his adopted father, found his...biological family. Then abandoned by them, too. Or so Nero perceives it. Geralt doesn't know the full story. Given how much Dante seems to care about Nero despite being shit at doing anything about it, he imagines the situation had been far more complicated.

Or perhaps not. Sometimes a choice is just a choice. One you make in the moment and are never sure of from that day forth. ]

[ Created by alchemy? Unfortunately not something that Dante is wholly unfamiliar with, though where he's from that usually has a lot more to do with demons as well. He doesn't make the same assumptions of Geralt. Even if he hadn't spent enough time in Abraxas to know that people in this world come from literally all over, he knows the feel of demons. He'd be able to tell.

Still, a "Withcher". He's got a name to put to it. ]

Pest control's in high demand, is it?

[ Enough that people would literally create individuals to deal with it rather than start a job fair? He'd guessed Geralt was a mercenary of sorts, but to be actually bred, in a way, to do it...

Doesn't leave the guy much of a choice, does it?

The mention of Nero does give pause. Seems like Nero has shared something of his past. The kid's much more open that Dante will ever be, but Fortuna isn't an easy topic. ]

He's one of the best.

[ But, he has to pat his chest with a weak little grin. ]

After me, of course.

[ Demons simply don't exist in that way on Geralt's sphere. The line between what makes a monster is...not so thick. He clearly isn't human—but beyond that? It's hard to say. The essence of who he was never changed. Only his physical biology. ]

Not really. [ His tone is ironic. ] Over the past century or so...they've been dying out.

[ So have the Witchers. He finds more work in Cadens. Between the beasts that hassle merchants and the demand for alchemy ingredients, there's no shortage of things to kill, gold to make.

The joke is lacklustre, but Dante is. Trying, evidently. Geralt shakes his head. No, he doesn't doubt that. Nero may carry a short temper, but he is skilled. And he has a good heart. ]

Can't be much to kill in Thorne, is there?

[ CLOSED ] here in this garden of bones

just guys being dudes

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i took me a minute to emotionally recover from your tag

<3

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