[ It's Geralt's turn for his brows to draw together—less in concern, more in concentration. Not the first time he's understanding only half the words being said, but normally Geralt's got a better grip on piecing context together to make a sufficient picture. Right now he's—a little less than focused. Which doesn't stop him from trying, but he comes up short in what the fuck she means by aliens and ships in space. (What space?)
He blinks once, twice. Takes another drink. ] I—hm. [ That's. Different. ] Are these spaceships a myth?
[ He's certain this is not the point of her story, but at the same time, it feels worth noting because the other part of it—needless death for some horseshit belief—is typical enough. And dredges up things he'd rather not delve into. (If Destiny were a spaceship, would his mother have willingly thrown him to the wolves all the same? Likely.)
A brief pause passes before Geralt catches what Julie is insinuating. He shakes his head, a light curl to his lips. ] Not exactly everyone. We're slow to age, my kind.
no subject
He blinks once, twice. Takes another drink. ] I—hm. [ That's. Different. ] Are these spaceships a myth?
[ He's certain this is not the point of her story, but at the same time, it feels worth noting because the other part of it—needless death for some horseshit belief—is typical enough. And dredges up things he'd rather not delve into. (If Destiny were a spaceship, would his mother have willingly thrown him to the wolves all the same? Likely.)
A brief pause passes before Geralt catches what Julie is insinuating. He shakes his head, a light curl to his lips. ] Not exactly everyone. We're slow to age, my kind.