[ 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. ))

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[gynvael]

[ Alucard is right. The bat's little heartbeat is thundering, and Geralt doesn't know how that makes any fucking sense if it's an entity that's shifted as a part of Alucard. Why would it have an independent physiological response?

Furthermore, he had questions. He did not insist on experimenting with potential dismemberment. Geralt is not one to bother defending himself from accusations, though, so his sole response is another sigh. He's about to offer the bat to Alucard when his medallion hums. Before he can react (the amount of bullshit happening all at once is truly highlighting how much he is not sober), Ciri barrels across the roof. One of Alucard's empty wine jugs tips off the ledge and smashes to the ground. On the street two stories below, a woman shrieks.

Jaskier stumbling upon this chaos is one thing. His own daughter is another. She's already witnessed him vomit on a cactus a few weeks ago (during a...complicated hunt, but), then heard him fall out of bed (also complicated).

Geralt breathes in and does not exhale. His fingers curl against his knee from where he's crouched over the scale. He refrains from pinching the bridge of his nose. ]

[cryptsleeper]

[There is too much happening at once. The tiny, terrified bat squeaks as it tries to make it's way back to Alucard, wings flapping madly. It knows where it needs to be, but in a moment, where it needs to be is gone. There's shattering glass, there's a yelp from a dhampir whose response time is seriously delayed, and now where the bat is supposed to be is on the floor, having crashed from momentum and--

--Alucard glares up at Ciri. The bat crawls underneath him, and suddenly his hair is as perfect like always. No more bats. No more noise. Just a dhampir who does not appreciate the chaos, and frankly, is going to have a splitting headache once he sobers up.]

Is there anyone else who would like to make loud noises about the present state of me?

[cointosser]

[Testing... bat things? What on Melitele's ever-loving green earth does that fucking mean?

Jaskier gives another shriek (perfect in timbre with the woman below) when Ciri appears out of nowhere to bring Alucard to the ground, so fast that he only barely registers it was Ciri at all. He ducks behind the chair before his brain can catch up, peeking back out as his heart rethunders for the fifth time in what feels like two minutes.]

You're the one who was bats in my house! [Alucard is so lucky he wasn't wearing that robe. He may have tripped on it and died at this point. Or worse! Torn it!] Are you both drunk?

[He sniffs, slowly drawing himself out from behind the chair. There is definitely a smell. That isn't a rhetorical question anymore.]

[gynvael]

[ He is not drunk. He can't speak as to the state of Alucard, but Geralt is satisfied with his ability to catch flying wreaths out of the air. He is, however, somewhat more suggestible than usual. Which—he'd like to point out it's not as though he agreed to feed Alucard to a nest of a wyverns. They were quietly taking measurements up until the...disruption.

This small activity has obviously exceeded its reach.

He reaches down to help Jaskier off the ground, where his friend has been taking cover for the past two minutes. His gaze flicks to Ciri, dishevelled but unharmed.

It's fine. The only casualties are a vase and Alucard's dignity. (Geralt will not address his own because it does not matter. He's moving on. As for Jaskier, the bard has long transcended quotidian concepts such as dignity.)

He tucks the wreath under one arm, picks up the scale and the (empty) jugs of ale, and nudges open the rooftop door with the heel of his boot. ] Dinner's in an hour.

[ Alucard is welcome to stay if he's willing to look all three of them in the eye over a pot of rabbit stew. ]

[cryptsleeper]

--I'll clean up the broken glass.

[That seems the easiest thing to focus on right now. And the least embarrassing. It gives him enough cover to exit the room in the name of looking for a broom, as well as the chance to break the all encompassing tension in the air.

This has very much been An Evening, he'll say that much.]

[wiedzminka]

[ Bewildered, Ciri removes herself from on top of Alucard quickly enough, and awkwardly offers him a hand up while mumbling another confused apology.

Well. At least no one was actually in danger. ]

Three of us are about to be drunk. [ She answers Jaskier somberly, and quickly makes her escape trailing after Geralt to help him with dinner.

Jaskier is welcome to thank her appropriately for so valiantly defending him sometime in the future. ]

🎀

[cointosser]

You're all absolutely mad! [He says while raising his arms to the heavens themselves, then dropping them. Somehow Geralt is making this seem like his fault. Perhaps he should have not come home! Not brought a decoration back to the roof to fit with his nice lighting!

And since neither of them said no, he's taking that as a yes.]

And you're lucky you saved that wreathe, Geralt! It coast as much as three of those bloody scorpions!