[ CLOSED ] death is no man, death is no wraith

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: October, pre-event
Where: Cadens
What: October catch-all
Warnings: Standard Witcher canon


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

Comments

[vengeanceinside]

[Saying that so casually makes Nero's paltry twenty-five years seem like nothing. A fuckin' century. And now he hasn't seen his brothers for a few years, too.

It's the same, but it's different. Kyrie was protected because he was there. He knew he could at least keep her safe. He can't imagine Geralt's brothers needed to be protected if they were anything like him. And Nico. Who the hell is getting her demon parts now? (Not like he cared. He wasn't in it to help her. Obviously.) He can at least trust Nico got back to Fortuna. That they're taking care of each other, of the kids.

It just makes him feel like a failure.

And what if -- what if Vergil finds them? Without Dante to temper him, Nero doesn't know what the hell he's been doing. If he found them --

He suddenly clenches up, shaking his head. Anywhere else, he might've already put his fist in the wall. Vergil is an insane asshole, maybe, but somewhere in there is V. V... wouldn't have hurt Kyrie. He's gotta believe that.]

I found them the same day I lost them. [His real family, at least. His blood. Kyrie would always be family, but he'd finally found out where he came from.] I mean... Dante. My father. [He sighs, turning towards Geralt. Taking in the big guy helps him unclench a little.] I'm glad you've got Ciri here. I know what it feels like, being without.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt doesn't try to guess what's crossing Nero's mind, though he watches him closely. Nothing he says will make it better. He can't reassure Nero his family is all right. Even if it were true that Kyrie exists in a reality where Nero never left her, who is he to say that would mean nothing has befallen her? Or others that he cares for?

Geralt had been there, and he still couldn't protect Ciri.

He pushes off the pillar and settles down on a chair nearby. ] I was without her. For a while.

[ He's glad she's found her again. And Nero is not wholly without his family, either. Despite the complications, he knows Dante cares—though he suspects it needn't be said. Something tells him Nero must realize that, too. Besides, Dante is a prickly topic for the boy; Geralt leaves it be, not wanting to reopen old wounds.

Instead, he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. ] These doors are always open for you. Just leave the monsters at yours.

[vengeanceinside]

Not on purpose, I bet.

[It comes out bitter but it's not because of Geralt; it's what he could've had if his family wasn't a bunch of traumatized dumbfucks. If Kyrie's parents weren't killed by demons. He has a feeling Geralt would've done anything for Ciri. Feels like he pretty much has, especially when they were in the pit. Geralt was giving to her the last bites of food he had.

He forces himself to relax, 'cause part of him is still afraid he'll burst into flames, even if this is the Horizon. It's not like he's in much better control here than he is out there. Shit, truly, just happens.

Nero turns around so fast it's almost sharp. It's the kind of thing Credo might've said -- even with the jab. He knows Geralt isn't Credo, and no one will ever replace him. He isn't looking to replace him. It's just --

It's something he wanted to hear. He doesn't even remember why he came here in the first place.

Geralt doesn't need to elaborate. Nero knows exactly what's being offered here... even if he's caught between I need this and when did I ever start mattering that much?] You couldn't handle most of them, anyway.

[But he smiles when he says it.] I... thanks.

[gynvael]

[ His lips curl faintly. Nero is a little shit, and that's not changed, but seeing Nero in this temple—bitter and a little angry and lonely—

He was there once. Wasn't he? Right here, just like that. So surefooted in his ability to slay the monsters and so uncertain of everything else. He remembers the temple unsettled him at first. Nenneke's kindness, the warmth, the soft beds. It wasn't like anything he associated with home, and he spent his days eyeing every dubious little pastry. Retreating from Nenneke's maternal instinct, too much a reminder of Visenna's shadow.

By the end of their stay, he hadn't wanted to leave. ]

Mm. Don't thank me yet. Those candles don't light themselves.

[ He's not serious; they do. Sometimes. Other times, Geralt lights them himself. He finds the familiar task soothing.

There's another pause before he rises. ]

I'll show you a secret.

[vengeanceinside]

What? You're fuckin' jokin'. I'm not your altar boy.

[He is joking. Look at that, old man's still got jokes. Nero slaps him on the shoulder, anyway, when he gets up. Just. For something to do. He has to drive this weird energy out of him, but the memory of Kyrie, of the Order, of the churches he grew up in... it's all a lot.

He used to light the candles, too. When he was on probation after doin' something that had pissed Credo off again.] Maybe when your back gives out, I can give you a hand.

[If he feels like it. He crosses his arms so he doesn't do anything too weird, tipping his head.] A secret? You're not gonna take me to another one of your weird dinosaurs, are you?

[Not that he'd complain. That was a hell of a fight, even if it ended too fast.] Let's see it.

[gynvael]

[ A part of him wonders if Nero ever was one in that church of his. An altar boy. Though the concept to him is far different, probably, than it is to Nero. They might've spent part of their childhood in a temple, but Geralt's experience was absent of preaching. He came to study, that was all. And to learn to sit with himself—to carry his darkest memories without suffocating under their weight. ]

Let's avoid that one again, [ is the dry, possibly ominous, reply to Nero's comment on the state of his back.

He turns down the corridor to where Nenneke's office sits. It's empty, but it smells of her. Healing herbs, tea, cloves. A crack spiderwebs across one of the walls. This isn't technically a secret. But it is a part of him few ever see—and he wants, maybe, for Nero to know that when he says he understands, he means that. ]

I put that there. During one of our lessons. [ Geralt runs a finger along the groove. She never replaced the wall, though she could've. He supposes she isn't one to erase the past. ] When Vesemir sent us here, it was the first time I'd left Kaer Morhen. By then, it was home. And the last time I left home was...

[ Was when his mother abandoned him. He never saw it again. ]

[vengeanceinside]

[Yeah, he was. Sort of. Between training to kill, training to learn the signs of possessions, training to -- ugh -- give praise to Sparda. He was way better at lighting candles than he was praising anyone. That's never changed.

He raises a brow, but doesn't ask. Look, he's not entirely surprised to hear, or think, that Geralt's ever gotten hurt. He's only human. Relatively.

It's not like Nero goes unscathed either, and he's not even human.

Nero follows, hands stuffed in his pockets. The temple has regained this sense of the unfamiliar, and he doesn't hear Kyrie's voice in the back of his head anymore. But he swears he can feel Shadow somewhere, skulking about, even if she hasn't shown up. (And here he'd thought he'd really been able to leave her at the van. Of course not.)]

He forced you to leave home? [Nero walks up to the wall's breakage, already knowing exactly what it could be. Though coming from him, it would've had a specifically fist-shaped hole in it. This is one of those powers, he thinks. The weird magic things Geralt does.

Nero puts his fist in the middle of it.

Geralt trails off. Nero remembers what he'd said in the pit.] Yeah. [He doesn't need to say more. He steps back. Is this a memory, or was it just there? He thinks... if it's someone who means this much to Geralt, maybe she let it stay. A lesson, they would've said.] When I was still training, I stole my brother's sword... and then broke it, trying to fight a wall. Cracked it right in half. I didn't know what he'd think, so I hid it. Lied about it. Told him I'd never seen it. [He moves in again, tracing the cracks. The sign of a kid way stronger than any kid should be.] Then I see it a decade later, hanging out in his office, and after all that time, I'd forgotten about it. [The amount of times he'd ever seen Credo smile, he could count on one hand. But it wasn't the way his face looked that had ever said much.] He didn't even fix it. I didn't get why for the longest time.

[gynvael]

No. [ No, not forced. Not like that. ] We needed to study our Signs.

[ Vesemir was right to send them off. Kaer Morhen could not give them everything they needed. He understood that afterwards. At the time, he was simply...young. Afraid of too many things he didn't want to admit to.

He sits on the edge of the desk. Nero speaks of his family little. He knows when Nero says brother, he means something more important than blood. A mentor and brother all rolled into one. A complicated relationship, as far as he's learned. Aren't they all?

He has no desire to replace what Nero has lost. That is an impossible ask and not one he wants. He'll always miss his brothers, too. What he's made here—though it isn't the same, it isn't lesser, either. ]

Time grants us clarity. [ Not only for the pieces of his youth. He once thought he learned all there was to learn at fifty, eighty. And yet, the world surprises him. ] I know you left people behind. But you have them here, too.

[ Pain makes it easy to forget this. He knows that well. ]

[vengeanceinside]

[Good. That's good. If Geralt had to have bullshit in his life, it... well, maybe it's just shit on top of shit, so it wouldn't have mattered. But it's not something he'd wish on anyone, losing their home. Cast out of it, even.

He sighs.]

Guess so.

[He gets it now. He gets it because he'd do anything to have a memento of Credo's that wasn't paperwork from the Order and the reminder that he'd still let himself turn into a demon just because that asshole Sanctus told him to. Just went to show you don't really know anyone, no matter how long you live with them. Even if you're raised with them.

But a guy can't live his life being paranoid of everyone forever.

Nero turns back towards Geralt, looking at him a second. It's not really his thing, but in the moment... maybe he just wants it. Maybe he needs it. He embraces the Witcher with a squeeze, a hand on his back. It's not a redundant reminder. Kyrie's voice in his ears, he still needs it.

It's not just Geralt. It's Wanda, it's Himeka, it's Rocket. Even that stupid pair of giant birds. The dumbass goat. It's Steve.

He's gotta go home. Whenever he figures out how to. But he doesn't hate being here.] So everyone keeps remindin' me.

wrapping!

[gynvael]

[ The embrace takes him aback. It's not unwelcome. Just unexpected from Nero, who rarely makes physical contact beyond punching him in the shoulder.

Geralt lifts his hand and returns the gesture. His grip is firm, and not for the first time, it strikes him Nero has somehow slipped into the crevices of his life. A part of him nearly tells Nero that he would have a home in Cadens should he ever find Solvunn untenable, but he won't say it until the situation takes a turn for the worse.

They might. Nero is wary about the gods, the Council, and Geralt feels similarly. Though the Free Cities isn't better. A different threat, that's all. He doesn't know what he'd rather face: monstrous gods or an army and an endless cycle of politics?

After a moment, he releases Nero. Fondness touches the curl of his lips. ] Fuck off before they miss you out there.