[ CLOSED ] though my feet my rest

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: August
Where: Cadens, Horizon
What: August catch-all
Warnings: General Witcher canon stuff.


(( starters below. plot with me discontinued. ))

Comments

[boltaction]

[ meanwhile vash is a frequent visitor to the horizon, the shine of it still having yet to fade to something commonplace. there were so many domains to explore, and the variety between them was just as vibrantly plentiful. for a wanderer like vash, every corner called to him; he found something new each time he closed his mind off to the physical world and slipped into the fantastical embrace of this collective microcosm.

the one he's picked out from the bunch this trip is sprawling and mountainous and thick with snow. there had been the crunch of frost in alucard's autumnal realm, but here it's deep in winter. by now he's a lot more practiced with the creation magicks available to the summoned here, so before he'd started the hike up the short incline, eyes on the fortress that loomed ahead, he'd thickened the material of his geranium red jacket and lined the hood with faux (but warm) fur.

the bitter cold reminds him of the cryostasis chambers on the SEEDS ships. he'd needed a winter coat then, too.

he'd poked around the yard some, and had kept his hands to himself as he peered into the stables and covered areas that housed an assortment of tools, weaponry, and firewood. vash's delight had guttered a bit when he'd almost caved in the ribs of some poor, skeletal corpse caked in a glaze of frost, just barely managing to abort putting his boot down at the last moment with a pinwheel of his arms. even though the summoned could make anything out of nothing here, he thinks most domains are reflections of their homes, places that brought them comfort, or at least moored them to a fabrication of the familiar. since whoever lived here had felt it necessary to keep a slew of bones in their yard, vash thinks it must be a recreation of somewhere real.

once he'd made a full circuit of the yard, and tested the very locked doors of the stronghold, he went looking for a pile of snow that he, with bit of digging, confirmed was not anyone's final resting place. why? to eat some of it, of course.

so there he is, crouched in the yard of kaer morhen, open mouth hovering over a palmful of snow when geralt asks him if he wants a side of bread with it.

vash's startled yelp echoes off the stone battlements. he stands bolt upright, hiding his hand behind him to quickly dust the snow off on the back of his jacket. ]

Uh, hi! Sorry! I was just-- well-- you see--

[gynvael]

[ Geralt hops off of Roach. His boots land on a whitened femur, cracked down the center. He pays no attention, moving over rocks and bones alike as though they're stepping stones strewn across the ground. Despite the biting wind, he has on only a linen shirt, sleeves casually rolled up.

He hadn't expected to see Vash here. Perhaps he isn't surprised. The Horizon is only so large. Eventually, folk make their way to him.

For a second, Geralt studies Vash. What was it Vash said? Never seen snow before?

He tips his head. ] Follow me.

[ The forest surrounding Kaer Morhen isn't near the size it was back home, but there are still plenty of towering trees. Geralt finds one with a wooden spout already tapped into it. Sap flows from the trunk. It's been a long time since he's done this. Not since he was a child. Vash has stirred an old memory—a rare pleasant one that, for once, he doesn't mind revisiting. ]

When we were boys, [ he crouches down and scoops the untouched snow into a makeshift bowl, hollowed from some old wood, ] sweets were practically nonexistent out here. But if you know where to look...

[ He places the bowl in Vash's hand and guides it under the spout. The clear liquid drips onto the snow. Straight from the source, it's lightly sweet—a delicate hint of sugar that might be underwhelming for anyone used to more. ]

[boltaction]

[ vash blinks at geralt's response to his stammering, but complies. their boots tamp down the snow with a tandem rhythm of crisp and satisfying crunching as they leave the ring of crumbling ramparts for the nearby forest. vash cranes his head, gazing up at the tall pines that thrust into the grey-blue sky like bristled pikes.

then the smooth belly of a carved bowl is being pressed into his hands, one flesh and one elysian green. he holds it beneath the old spigot when geralt's sword-callused palms guide him there, watching the sap dribble onto the small pile of snow. the gooey structure of the sap hardens as the cold penetrates it; it puckers and hardens, crystalizing.

with careful fingers, he picks up a frozen, misshapen pearl of the candy and places it on his tongue. the sweetness is faint, coupled with an earthy taste-- vash loves it. geralt likely reads the obvious delight shining like the summer sun in vash's blue eyes, even behind his comically orange lenses, as he offers geralt a share of the frozen syrup. he rolls the piece in his mouth to his cheek to speak. ]

I didn't know what you were going to show me out here, but I wouldn't have guessed this.

[ there's an unspoken thank you in there, that the witcher shared with him something he didn't even know was possible. it makes the rudimentary candy taste even sweeter. ]

Candy is plentiful in the cities, back home, but most towns don't have a plant to spare on making sugar. Water and power trumps everything else.

[gynvael]

[ A small twitch graces his lips as he watches. Mm. At least he needn't ask if Vash likes it. The answer is obvious.

From the sky above, snow drifts gently down, a light flurry that clings to his hair. Not every place in the Horizon has a sky, but Kaer Morhen does. The sun rises and sets with some nebulous sense of time; clouds drift and change shape. ]

A plant? [ What does Vash mean by that? A plant to spare? Geralt steps back, sitting on an empty stump. ] Is your world lacking?

[ From what Vash has hinted, that seems to be the implication. He's certainly seen a deadened world, empty of everything except the harsh red sun, but he can't imagine one that's lived upon by humans. He thinks of Gideon, who never once saw a flower in her life.

Geralt was raised on the land. To understand what it can provide when the people in it will not. That there could be a sphere where it hasn't got more to give didn't cross his mind until he met others here. ]

[boltaction]

[ vash coats the remaining snow in another helping of tree sap before he lists against a nearby trunk, one leg bending at the knee and balancing on the toe of his boot. he turns the lacework of sticky syrup over and over in the bowl, hastening its freezing. ]

Mm. [ he finally swallows the candied piece he'd been nursing. ] No Man's Land is a desert planet. There's no sources of water or plant life. It's just rock and sand as far as the naked eye can see... and the last of humanity crash-landed on it about a century and a half ago.

[ vash offers geralt a small smile. ]

But it's home. For them and for me.

[ now comes the hard part. explaining his sisters to people who have no reference point comes with a lot of... descriptive hurdles.

but then he remembers he's in the horizon. ]

The Plants I'm talking about aren't like trees or flowers.

[ he pushes off the pine he's leaning against. he holds up his free hand and pinches his fingers together, concentrating for a moment before he spreads them like petals unfurling for the morning sun. he creates something in that moment. it starts out as small as a seed and grows until it's the size of an apple; it's bulb-like and gives off a soft blue glow that reflects off vash's glasses. it hovers there in his palm, and there's something undeniably affectionate in his eyes as he gazes at it. ]

They're biological generators, and they're responsible for humanity's continued survival. Without them, humans would have died within weeks after the crash. Given the right conditions and a system that can tune their habitat, they can make just about anything. Water, power, food-- even gravity. Though that last one isn't really necessary since no one's making trips into space anymore.

Most people think that's all they amount to, though. No different than a battery, or kindling. But they're more than that.

[ the tiny recreation in his hands starts to change, starts to bloom like a flower. the petals unfold like wings, revealing the human-like shape hidden underneath. ]

They're alive.

[gynvael]

[ Crash-landed? To Geralt, he can only imagine something similar to the Conjunction. A literal collision of spheres that also sent the last of humanity falling into a continent they did not belong in.

He does understand, though. Kaer Morhen holds painful, violent memories. The surrounding mountains are a harsh and unforgiving environment. It's still home.

Carefully, he watches Vash, his hands. The organism glows with a gentle pulse. He doesn't know where Vash is going with this until he sees the small figure hidden within the unfurling bulb. It resembles a water spirit. Vash need not tell him it is alive. He can tell at once. And the implications of what Vash explained earlier sink in.

(Is this what Vash meant? When he claimed he could speak to things not unlike the Singularity?)

His brows draw into a deep frown. No different than kindling. ] And humans keep them for their use?

[ If his words carry an edge of distaste, it is not an accident. Is he jumping to conclusions? Perhaps. Experience tells him he likely is not. What else would they do with a creature that offers boundless resources for survival? Kindness has never come easy to the world or the people in it. ]

[boltaction]

[ understanding permeates vash's smile. maybe even a glint of fondness, too. he thinks luida would like him. rem certainly would have. ]

Well, yes, but...

[ he walks closer and extends his hand to offer geralt the little reproduction of the plant. it twirls to face the witcher, looking up at him with its large, expressive eyes. a cellular pattern pulses under its nearly translucent skin. if geralt holds out his hand, it'll glide across the bridge of their fingers to settle above the heart of his palm, suspended in the air. ]

They need humans as much as humans need them. They can't survive outside of the containment vats they're kept in. They need humans to track their vitals, and to intervene if something goes wrong. If the people caring for them are good to them-- it's symbiotic. They would've died out, too, if the humans hadn't crashed with them.

But knowing how to care for a Plant is a, well, highly specialized field, and most places don't just have a Plant scientist living among them. Or even nearby. And it's expensive to hire one to make the trip out if something's amiss. Some places just can't afford it in the end.

[ he bites the inside of his cheek for a moment, his face pinched with consideration, his gaze downcast. and then he fixes geralt with a cautious stare. ]

Remember when I asked about the Singularity-- in the baths-- and I said I could talk to... "things"?

[ he thinks the "reveal" is unnecessary at this point; geralt has almost certainly figured it out by now, but vash might as well say it out loud. for posterity. or whatever. ]

[gynvael]

[ There's much Geralt has seen over the century. This is wholly new. Where did they come from? What sphere exists where resources cannot naturally spring from the earth itself, yet these strange creatures they travelled with ensure they do? How did the humans even find them in the first place? (Or did they make them?)

The why and how of it almost seems beside the point. Perhaps it's been lost to history altogether.

Even knowing it's an illusion, Geralt isn't sure what to do with the Plant hovering above his palm. It looks impossibly fragile. He can't help feeling as though there's something inherently tragic about a creature created to rely upon and coexist with humans, knowing that such a reality is near-impossible to maintain.

After a moment, he quietly returns the Plant to Vash. Yes. He remembers. ] You can communicate with them.

[ Like Vash suspected, it's not a question. He studies Vash for a long few seconds. What is Vash, then? Not one of the Plant scientists, he thinks. ]

Why are you telling me? [ The curiosity is genuine. They'd only spoken once before today, and he suspects Vash doesn't make a habit of announcing these details to everybody he meets. ]

[boltaction]

[ vash accepts the simulacra of his sister back, watching her watch him while he gives geralt's question due consideration. why is he telling him? ]

Barely anyone knows I can back home. It's better if they don't. It'd scare them, for one, and for two...

[ his expression shutters a bit, a muscle in his jaw flexing. the frenetic scales of a piano echo faintly in the back of his mind. ]

And for two it'd be dangerous. But here-- a sharkman is my neighbor. Wanda can manipulate materials on an atomic level that shouldn't be possible. Magic is real.

I don't see much of a point in hiding it like I did, at least not from other Summoned, you know?

[ in short: circumstances here are far different than they are on no man's land. but that's not quite the full picture, and after chewing on whether he should or shouldn't for a bit, he finally blurts out: ]

Is it silly if I say I just felt like you'd understand?

[ vash finally looks back up at geralt, his mouth slanting with a tentative smile. ]

[gynvael]

[ Yeah. He can understand that inclination. Someone like Vash, who can communicate with the very thing they depend upon for survival—that knowledge could shift the entire tide of the world. There's a reason why he's been so protective of what Ciri can do. What she is.

Geralt gives a small huff—surprised and yet not by Vash's declaration. ]

No. [ No. He doesn't think that's absurd. Just...unexpected.

For a minute, he's quiet, observing. He seldom offers much about himself, not out of secrecy but because—as he told Vash in the Feywilds—he finds the reactions to be...complicated. For him to process. All that anger and distaste and bitterness on his behalf. They mean well, he knows. He still prefers to avoid confronting those emotions. At at least when it comes to his past. He's been there. He spent a long time trying to move on. For the most part, he's managed to. It serves no purpose to reawaken old wounds.

But Vash is not the same as the others. ]

Humans made my kind to face their monsters. And when there remained few monsters to fear, they searched for new ones in us. [ He was never given the choice to hide. What people didn't understand about Witchers, they made shit up. ] But amongst the Summoned here—none of us really belong.

[ So here they are. Outcasts alongside outcasts. ]