[ The fact that they have a coaster says several things about who's responsible for the decor. Geralt didn't even know one existed until Alucard pulled it out.
At least with the cellar downstairs, the scorpions are no longer being butchered on the kitchen table. Which he'd like to point out is rarely him—he often goes after much larger beasts—but he likes to give Ciri a hand when he's around.
In any case, the scale goes on the table next to his near-empty jug of ale. He does not take another drink. He's both too sober and not sober enough for whatever the fuck Alucard has managed to convince him to do.
His gaze tracks the single flitting bat. He nudges it gingerly. A genuine researcher might record numbers, but Geralt does not write things down. He's never needed to. So he simply notes the weight and picks the bat up, ready to release it back into the cloud in exchange for another.
He's beginning to feel like a mad scientist of a mage, and this is not a sensation he appreciates. ]
no subject
At least with the cellar downstairs, the scorpions are no longer being butchered on the kitchen table. Which he'd like to point out is rarely him—he often goes after much larger beasts—but he likes to give Ciri a hand when he's around.
In any case, the scale goes on the table next to his near-empty jug of ale. He does not take another drink. He's both too sober and not sober enough for whatever the fuck Alucard has managed to convince him to do.
His gaze tracks the single flitting bat. He nudges it gingerly. A genuine researcher might record numbers, but Geralt does not write things down. He's never needed to. So he simply notes the weight and picks the bat up, ready to release it back into the cloud in exchange for another.
He's beginning to feel like a mad scientist of a mage, and this is not a sensation he appreciates. ]