[ 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

[gynvael]

[ Louis, Geralt thinks, must be the first to send him a formal letter before arriving on his doorstep. The majority just show up. At most, they note their arrival through the scrawled notes linked by the Singularity. He should find the letters frivolous, but he doesn't. They're familiar. A remnant of the Continent that this world often hasn't got much use for.

Not that he's sentimental.

Though temperatures plunge on the mountains, the snow drifts gently down. The sun shines. A pleasant winter. The bones half-buried beneath the white blanket can almost be mistaken for stepping stones. The wolf wanders across them and stares back at the visitor. There is, perhaps, something to recognize in its golden gaze, its scruffy fur that's more silver than pure white, and the scars that cut up its torso.

Geralt appears not from within the fortress but behind Louis; he strolls up the path, horse beside him. Seldom one to linger in place, he'd been riding elsewhere until he sensed the vampire encroaching.

When he walks up next to Louis, the wolf finally wanders off—as though its presence is no longer needed now that Geralt's here. ] Did you make a new friend?

[mobezon]

{ louis loves his letters, and he'll take the time for them even if its a little note. his old ways remain in some forms. he's also a city boy, certified from new orleans to the cities on a widespread continent overseas until he landed in the heart of a desert where a city still stood. he may have settled into a high tower, but didn't leave the life completely behind, he only transformed it to his needs. the mountains are more akin to solvunn, to the quietude that louis secretly wished for before he arrived. would it be another life if he leaned into what the bayou offered outside the city? he wonders if the singularity has more to do with desires that are not simply in the horizon. it could also be a silly notion and self-absorbed.

he remains still, watches the wolf walk away as it leaves him to admire the golden shine. when he turns to look at geralt, there is something that geralt will note right away. if the sunshine is above them, it ceases when it hits his face. for louis walks with the night following him and its what he uses to stretch his limits of what he can do within the horizon. he isn't willing to give it up yet, but geralt can override it. when louis walks into another's domain, it's the gamble he takes.

forgive him, if it's suddenly nightfall. there's a quirk to his mouth, amused to the slight interaction that might as well have invited him in. }

I'd hope so. Gets lonely in the Horizon. Do you often get visitors?

[gynvael]

[ If quietude is what Louis seeks, he has an abundance of it here. Stillness sits in the fresh powdered snow; other than a small cabin in the distance, nothing exists for seemingly miles except trees and more trees. It isn't real, the vast expanse that stretches beyond—but as long as they're inside his space, the domains beside him aren't visible. Just the endless skyline.

Over which the sun rapidly sinks. Geralt lifts an eyebrow, the only indication he's noticed. He doesn't mind, no. The sky alights with glimmering stars. They're bright, sharp, in that way stars can only appear in the pure wilderness. ]

Less than others. More than I'd prefer. [ There's a wry curl to his lips, though. He tips his head towards the looming stone fortress. ] Come in.

[ He did promise a drink or several. The walk to the door is short. Geralt steps across the snow-buried bones without a second thought. They're old, bleached white over decades. He pushes open the heavy wooden doors, revealing a blazing hearth inside. It's warmer within, but by no means cozy. The hall echoes with the absence of his people: empty tables, medallions swaying gently—a grand castle with scarred walls that's far too large for one.

Once Louis has found his seat, Geralt holds out a plain corked bottle. The liquid inside is clear. It carries no notes of any particular flavour: an alcohol created to take the edge off quickly, not sipped as a beverage. But it does go down smooth if you can handle the burn. ]

[mobezon]

{ there's what louis desires, and what ends up happening. the spiral of life, ever so delicate and sometimes meaningless. a fortress is certainly a nice structure to have. it seems befitting for a man like geralt to have the vastness around for miles, able to keep a distance. it could also be what had been part of geralt's world. the horizon has a way of being exposing. part of him had wondered further about this world unlike his. louis has no mystical beasts to slay, only earth issues that stem from everyday life. even then he intentionally separated from society for decades.

louis has always been an over-thinker.

he settles into his seat, deciding to change that as his eyes idle on the bottle. clear liquid is always indication for the purest form of a good alcoholic beverage. }

You're gonna give my prohibition alcohol a run for its money. { a saying, one that he speaks as he takes the bottle from geralt. after all, it's a true share when it's straight from the bottle. with another glance at the swaying of the liquid, he tilts his head back and takes a swig of it. it does burn, and it's the sort that he hasn't felt in a long, long time. he sets the bottle down with a gentle clank. }

That's the stuff, alright.

[gynvael]

[ Across from Louis, Geralt swings one leg over a wooden bench, pockmarked with scars from thrown daggers and countless scuffles. Despite Vesemir's best efforts, there's only so much one man can do when a couple of dozen Witchers are cooped up together over the frozen winter.

Well. Half a dozen now. Wonder if that means fewer brawls. Probably not.

He pushes aside the thoughts of the family he left behind. ]

High praise. [ He imagines a vampire, like him, needs a particular amount of alcohol for it to make a difference. But a drink is not the sole reason he extended the invitation. He remembers the content of Louis' letter, the first one. He knows why Louis reached out in the first place.

Louis was a new face then. It wasn't easy for any of them, but more so, he thinks, when you return from such an ordeal to find yourself surrounded by strangers—not even that of your kind—far from home. Geralt has a family, friends to focus on, places to redirect his attention rather than getting lost in his head. (Perhaps that means he hasn't really confronted everything they went through, but.)

So after a brief silence, he asks: ] You've been settling?

[mobezon]

High praise indeed. Bet it takes much to knock you out, too. { which is to say, he is fully aware geralt is matched in more than one way. louis is wise when he deems it, but he isn't there for politics or complications, only to unwind in the way he once knew well. old habits from an old soul.

he's not going to pretend he understands what is going on. there's too much that gets thrown at them, and perhaps that's where he's none the wiser. he's never dealt with magic or any fantasy allure in the way he's been forced to get to know as of recently. he still is digesting. louis taps a light touch upon the table as he settles in his seat further. geralt asks, and louis reads between the lines as the silence follows them once more. }

I have been. You'd think an immortal would find it easier with what I've lived. I also have not fought any monsters or been gracefully targeted back home. I admit, I lived comfortably. I made sure I was untouchable, but here? It seems even we can't be left to our peace anywhere.

{ both in abraxas, but also in the horizon. it takes from them in ways that seem exposing, and he's embraced it in his own way. he won't embrace what happened in the pit, not those intrusions. those can fuck off. he'll make it clear only if he has to, and thus he's kept reservations about saying too much in the network or anything too exposing. he prefers the ambience of domains such as geralt's, almost makes it simple to take a second to be away from everything else. }

[gynvael]

[ A noncommittal, knowing hum is Geralt's response, a sound that suggests there's more he could add to the topic but won't. It isn't important, he thinks, what they each are or how it defines them.

Though there are plenty of drinking games he could introduce the vampire to should they reach that stage of getting to know each other. What the fuck else have he and his brothers got to do over the dark winters?

He shifts his weight. Untouchable. That is not a state Geralt has ever experienced. A Witcher's neutrality and solitude can shield only so much. Sometimes he misses the simplicity of his younger years. He can admit that. Other times, he knows he would never trade what he's gained now for anything. ]

It's been a long time since I've known peace. Even these walls failed to keep the world out.

[ Perhaps it was always impossible to find peace in a place where so much blood was shed before humans ever stormed its steps. The memories etched in its stones are complicated—at once the warmth of home and the violence of his youth. ]

[mobezon]

Have you found it in the Free Cities? Some peace? { there's a silence that follows. he catches it, the subtleness of their contrast then. he refrains from speaking further on it, as if he has to be careful where to go next with a man like geralt. the trade out of what made him "untouchable" still weighs. one can question if he actually had been the one in charge. dubai is the conclusion to why he cannot know peace, and instead of letting it dull him, he ends up with a bold follow up. }

Why don't we have ourselves a wager? Outdrink me and I will exchange a fond memory. No grim stories or bloody nights to recall. If I outlast you, you tell me a good memory of yours. One of your choice. You're welcome to lie.

{ it's mostly a tease since louis isn't planning on lying. it could be surface level, but still a meaningful memory. louis likes to know what people bring, see how they navigate, when he finds he's interested enough to get to know them. there might also be a confidence in the assurance that perhaps he can use his vampiric tolerance to his advantage. louis would much rather have the natural flow of conversation drive them, but he'll add a spin since he's tired of having everyone else decide his fate. today he decides his, and he chooses a wager out of good spirts. he figures why not. }

[gynvael]

[ Has he? Geralt reaches for the bottle. ] A measure.

[ His family is here. He has people he loves. It is more than he could ask for, and truthfully, he doesn't expect peace to stay long. It flits in and out like a restless hummingbird. The world does not rest. There is always something to protect.

His eyebrow lifts. He takes a second to mull it over—not because he can't hold his liquor, but because he prefers not to drink himself under the table. Even with his brothers, he'd tap out early. Duller than my shitting pot, Lambert would call him each time he left for bed, disinterested in falling over his own two feet. He decides it doesn't matter. It isn't really about the wager. It's about what he's willing to share, and if that's a fond memory, he can't say he minds.

So he pulls out two small pewter cups, the kind that holds only a couple of mouthfuls. ]

All right. [ He fills one and passes it over. ] I'll even let you ask me a question.

[ Just one. ]

[mobezon]

How generous. { he comments amusingly. perhaps he's seeking remedying an empty space that'll always remain expanding. geralt can stop and louis will follow. it's like putting a bandage over a shitty headache, but he'll take the one from the bottle. his not his true vice, but it is a familiar enough one after entering the horizon and not being able to feel lestat there. he thinks geralt probably won't judge him, but it remains unsaid. louis notes it's basically akin to a shot glass, indicating the strength of the liquor. } Well, then. Pass a good time.

{ a phrase from back home, his true one. he catches the cup as it hits his palm when it's slid over, and he lifts it before taking a swig. }

And with each shot, you get a fact. { the funny thing is, he will bend his own rules. louis still speaks his mind when he wants in the way that could seem as if he's giving too much information, but with facts it's the basis of a truth. it could mean anything or nothing. it's carefully given despite. he likes to converse, so sorry to geralt since he's now going to get tidbits he didn't ask for. maybe he wants to see how far before geralt stops him. }

One. I owned eight brothels in my hay day. Not a fine moment, but family business had to shift. Another.

[gynvael]

[ A good time it is. If he realizes Louis is seeking a distraction—and he does—he thinks little of it. Aren't they all? The list of shit they're each avoiding dwelling upon is long. Sometimes, what's needed is a drink or ten and an hour away from the shadows lurking around the corner.

He raises an eyebrow. ] Just don't expect me to provide my own.

[ Geralt may not be a thrilling conversationalist, but he's content to let his companions chatter away. Stories or facts, it doesn't matter. His favourite company is the sort that won't expect him to fill the silence. ]

Hm. [ Family business. He leans forward to refill Louis' cup. ] Before or after you were turned?

[ That's the word Louis used, isn't it? Turned? Like the night creatures in Ikorr, vampires aren't turned on his world. They just are. One of many species that fell onto the Continent, like the humans, the monsters, the werewolves. This is the first vampire he's encountered who was created, and in a sense, that brings Louis closer to Geralt's experience. Mutated by something beyond their control—though Louis never specified whether he'd been given a choice. ]