[ 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]

[ 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. ]