sam wilson. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
falcony) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2021-09-17 10:53 am
falcony) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-09-17 10:53 am
Entry tags:
- abigail hobbs; the hanged man,
- alucard; the hierophant,
- amos burton; the lovers,
- bucky barnes; the hanged man,
- cirilla of cintra; the devil,
- coraline finch; the tower,
- emet-selch; the emperor,
- eponine thenardier; the hanged man,
- estinien wyrmblood; the hermit,
- geralt of rivia; the hanged man,
- himeka sui; the fool,
- jaskier; the sun,
- jon sims; the high priestess,
- jordan hennessy; the moon,
- julie lawry; the wheel of fortune,
- kay faraday; the fool,
- kylo ren; the tower,
- martin blackwood; the empress,
- nadine cross; the world,
- nero (drakengard); the devil,
- phoenix wright; the lovers,
- relena peacecraft; death,
- sam wilson; justice,
- the darkling; death
[ OPEN ] i know some places and i've seen some faces
WHO: sam wilson and anyone/everyone.
WHAT: captain america cookout.
WHERE: sam's horizon domain
WHEN: third saturday of september (aka, about 3 weeks after the jailbreak)
NOTES: see below!
HELLO ALL AND WELCOME TO SAM'S CAPTAIN AMERICA COOKOUT!!!!
Over the last week or so, Sam has been going out of his way to contact as many people as he knows to invite them to a cookout at his place in the Horizon. He knows that after the jailbreak, a lot of people were separated, and this was his first thought on how to bring people together. The purpose behind it is simply because Sam thinks that the one thing all of them have in common, opinion on the Singularity and their situations aside, is that they were all brought here and can actually access the Horizon. He sees merit and use in coming together when they can, especially in ways that don't involve the politics of the land they're now living in. So, what better way to do that than around food?
The long and short of it is - this is a peace meal. Leave your issues at the door. Sam has very few rules and there is very little he will give in terms of what this cookout will entail, but three things he will make very clear:
All throughout the party, too, there will be a new friend. Red, as Sam fondly calls him, is a blood-red hunting hawk with silver in between the feathers. He can be found circling around Sam quite often, or perched on his shoulders, but also if you are out and about you can often see him checking up on anyone and everyone. He's a very curious little bird, and also pretty sassy, if you want to interact with him.
If you haven't, or have, been to Sam's domain before, feel free to take a look around. Anywhere is open (save for one locked bedroom) so everyone has open access, but most of the cookout itself will be located in the front yard.
WHAT: captain america cookout.
WHERE: sam's horizon domain
WHEN: third saturday of september (aka, about 3 weeks after the jailbreak)
NOTES: see below!
Over the last week or so, Sam has been going out of his way to contact as many people as he knows to invite them to a cookout at his place in the Horizon. He knows that after the jailbreak, a lot of people were separated, and this was his first thought on how to bring people together. The purpose behind it is simply because Sam thinks that the one thing all of them have in common, opinion on the Singularity and their situations aside, is that they were all brought here and can actually access the Horizon. He sees merit and use in coming together when they can, especially in ways that don't involve the politics of the land they're now living in. So, what better way to do that than around food?
The long and short of it is - this is a peace meal. Leave your issues at the door. Sam has very few rules and there is very little he will give in terms of what this cookout will entail, but three things he will make very clear:
1.) There will be no fighting at his home. You want to duke it out? Take it somewhere else. There will not be warnings or second chances. Don't be an ass.The cookout itself is set up out front, with picnic tables and chairs and fire pits and lights abound. There are tables set up near grilles if anyone wants to do any actual cooking outside, and a table (probably multiple) set up with sides and napkins and utensils. There are a variety of different places to go and sit and hang out while you're eating. Anything and everything you can want is available - food, drinks, yard games, music playing from out in the trees that will remain consistent unless someone tries to find the speakers and hijack the playlists, etc. If you can't find something outside, you're more than welcome to check the house.
2.) There is no meeting or serious reason for this cookout. Literally, he just wants people to come together who may no longer be able to see each other due to the travel constraints. It's meant to be fun. Come have fun. (he knows y'all know what that is, even when some of you pretend you don't). Bring food if you want to! There is also a kitchen (if you know what that is) and places to crash. Hope you like seafood!
3.) Anyone who can come into the Horizon is welcome. He'd love it if everyone came, so spread the word.
All throughout the party, too, there will be a new friend. Red, as Sam fondly calls him, is a blood-red hunting hawk with silver in between the feathers. He can be found circling around Sam quite often, or perched on his shoulders, but also if you are out and about you can often see him checking up on anyone and everyone. He's a very curious little bird, and also pretty sassy, if you want to interact with him.
If you haven't, or have, been to Sam's domain before, feel free to take a look around. Anywhere is open (save for one locked bedroom) so everyone has open access, but most of the cookout itself will be located in the front yard.
OOC: This is mean to be an OPEN LOG, so leave your TLs or closed threads below! This party will last basically as long as people want it to, but the idea is for it to be an afternoon into the evening. Y'all have free reign save for destroying Sam's home, but if you have any questions, hit me up on plurk (disarmingly or disco (dai#3757). Sam's TL is below, and he will be bouncing around like the good host he is, but lets get a little party started.
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You don't owe me anything. [ He unwraps the package. It bothers him a little if he considers the fact that he never hunted this deer and that no other part of it is out there, still waiting to be butchered. So he puts it out of his mind—not hard to do when Himeka says. That.
His brows draw together. Sincere confusion is written all over his normally unreadable face. A lot occurred in the Horizon, but his appearance was never in question. He looked the same then as he always does. Hair and all. (There was a point in his life he didn't have hair but that's—not the current discussion. Also not a fact anyone outside of the wolves of Kaer Morhen would know.) ]
Should I not?
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She conjures up a proper cutting board and readily takes the hefty slab of meat, slapping it down with no small amount of excitement. It's clear she doesn't shy away from handling large packages of meat. ]
I had been curious to see if you may have lost it all and acquired more than a heavy taste for liqor. Not that there's a problem with that, of course.
[ Himeka says rather passively before moving on to the present in front of her. She leans in and smells the slab. ]
Hmm, what is this? Antelope?
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Average taste. [ He's squinting a little at Himeka, like he might uncover a missing piece of this baffling conversation. What the fuck is she talking about? Perhaps it isn't important. She hasn't overindulged in the wine, he can tell, so whatever's going on between her...horns...it seems only she's privy to it.
Anyhow. ]
Red deer. Specifically. Need a hand? [ Since he's here. Might as well do something. ]
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I'll keep that in mind.
[ She had abstained for quite a while given the unfortunate repeat offenses of her drinks and those around her being tampered with, but it didn't keep her away forever. At this point she's more of a mind of "this might as well happen". It wouldn't be the worst way to go considering all the other opportunities that have presented itself. ]
Deer? Gamey, then? Hmm...
[ She can work with gamey, but maybe he's the expert. Himeka takes a step back and makes a sweeping gesture towards the meat. ]
If you know the best way to cut it, that would help. I was thinking of making something little more "finger foody". Maybe skewers? Unless you have any specific requests.
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—Actually. He can do skewers. She's fortunately chosen a method he's more than accustomed to.
He reaches for a knife laying on the counter. Some of the items here are rather...unusual, but. The knives, he recognizes. Though they're a bit lighter in weight. Whatever his skill in regards to flavouring food, he sections off the meat with practiced ease: someone used to making quick work when it comes to preparing a meal. ]
I wasn't aware, [ he says, slicing the venison into even cubes, ] that the champion of dragons was also an accomplished cook.
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Onions and peppers are an inarguable addition, but she also produces some long gourds that look like either squash or zucchini (or whatever the Eorzean equivalent is) and some sizable mushrooms. Placing the assortment on the counter, she nods figuring they will make both a tasty and a colorful display.
Just as she readies her own knife--never mind the strange glow that it emanates, it really is just a simple kitchen knife that has been glamoured to be...shiny. She worked for it, okay?--she pauses at Geralt's comment. A blink and she should be sheepish, but instead she just has to huff as an amused smile takes her lips. ]
Is that what Estinien called me?
[ She shakes her head. This...while not her intention, could provide a useful opportunity for her as well. Get some insight to what Geralt thinks of her friend, knowing how poorly their last discussion went. ]
It's honestly a title he has earned for himself being something of the emissary between man and dragon since the war ended. I just helped renovate their garden.
[ An understatement, of course, but also not inaccurate. The Zenith looks quite nice, thank you. She moves back to her vegetables and begins slicing up the peppers. ]
I imagine he didn't afford himself the same laudable reputation?
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At the name, he pauses a split second before continuing with his task. She'd made no indication that she's aware of what occurred between him and the elf, when he'd arrived, but given how fondly Estinien had spoken of her, he can't imagine they wouldn't have spoken about it. Not that it concerns him, much. She's more even-tempered than her friend and he came to Sam's gathering explicitly upon the man's request to keep tensions from getting out of hand. It's actually the sole reason he's agreed to it. After his run-in with Yennefer recently, the Horizon is the last place he wants to be. ]
Mm. [ He slides some of the cubed venison onto a waiting platter. ] I doubt he knows what to afford himself.
[ It's not said with judgment, but it is a pointed statement. There's obviously something Estinien is struggling with when so much of what he'd said during their conversation had been conflicting—almost as though he couldn't decide how he wanted to be perceived from one moment to the next. The only consistent thing had been his persistence in throwing his bullshit at the Witcher's feet. Like if he were stubborn enough, Geralt might finally take the bait.
Interesting, maybe. And equally a test of his fucking patience. He's neither the time nor inclination to put up with—any of that. Not his job. Certainly not at the expense of the few people he gives a damn about. Avoiding being baited into fights that don't need to happen is what he's spent his entire life doing. As much instinct, these days, as it is a conscious decision. ]
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No reason not to give him the benefit of the doubt, even if he had upset Estinien considerably. If she's found common ground with Emet-Selch after they faced off to the death, she can certainly extent Geralt a bit of understanding and courtesy.
Besides, he really knows how to handle his meat, it seems. Important qualities! ]
You're not wrong.
[ With the peppers appropriately sliced and set off to the side, she moves on to the squash and zucchini. ]
His own accomplishments are far greater than he'll ever express on his own behalf. That leaves it up to me, doesn't it?
[ Yet she's not here to tote them off at a man who may not want to hear them, less out of disinterest and more in that she doesn't want to come off like she's trying to force Estinien's point of view via his reputation. She's more curious that she understands Geralt's with her own eyes and ears rather than through the filter of her friend, no matter how much she trusts him. ]
Mmm, did you know that when I was searching for him back in the dungeons, Jaskier had thought I'd been looking for you?
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He leaves the comment unremarked upon. His silence speaks for itself. ]
Did he. [ There's a sense he's waiting for her to go on—that whatever point she's trying to reach or reason for bringing up this anecdote about Jaskier, she may as well get there sooner rather than later. He's rarely one for small talk as it is; at the moment, he's even less inclined to divert the conversation with unimportant chatter about the bard's tendency to assume any vague descriptor of a man with white hair must refer to the White Wolf he made so famous. (Geralt has his own reputation, one which also indicates not much of the truth.)
Though maybe that had something to do with her nonsensical observation about his. Hair. Should probably ask Jaskier about that. ]
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Or they simply don't see eye-to-eye and it's not nearly as big of a deal to Geralt as it is to Estinien. That in and of itself shows what a change her friend has gone through over the years. Though he is not one to suffer others who do not align to his own goals, so singularly focused on them as he was, he likewise wouldn't spend much time dwelling on it either. To her that means that Estinien saw something in Geralt and he's equally disappointed in himself for not being able to bridge that gap. ]
Mmhmm.
[ She hums an affirmative, deftly slicing up the zucchini and then the squash, moving them off to the side in piles. ]
Apparently "tall, white-haired, with a sour expression" is a lot more common than I would have imagined.
[ A pause as she looks Geralt over. ]
Even if you are a little short.
[ Says the woman who hasn't even cleared five fulms and three ilms. Himeka doesn't seem to hold this against him, however, and shrugs. He's a Hyur, after all. ]
But I suppose he thought you had a common ground as well.
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He sets aside the knife and sighs, the kind that indicates he only wants to explain this once. ] I don't give a damn about your friend, Himeka.
[ He means that sincerely, whether that comes across or not. He's got a dozen bigger problems than Estinien ranting about a terrible fate befalling the Witcher for telling him to fuck off. The world does not need a reason to take and take, and if it takes again, it'll hardly be because of one lone elf. Though he supposes folk do often think themselves that important.
He turns around, leaning back against the counter while she finishes up the vegetables. His gaze settles on her. ] His concerns are not my own. I told him as much.
[ That's all there is to it. That's where he'd like to leave it, ideally. ]
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(There are very few people she considers beyond that point, after all.)
She watches him for a moment before nodding as she sets her knife aside, instead selecting a mixing bowl to start to put together the marinade. ]
Well, I suppose that's good since I'm not asking you to give a damn about him.
[ Curious that that is the angle he is looking at it, though. Perhaps this is where the two men came at a impasse? ]
That's my job, after all.
[ A few dry ingredients--spices, garlic, pepper--and a few light syrups and sauces come together as she beats them with a fork. ]
I know alliances are not something easily formed nor lasting ones created on a simple agreement. But I do think he saw reason to reach out, which is much rarer than you may understand.
[ She sets the bowl down, producing a set of wooden skewers out of thin air and wordlessly hands Geralt a stack of his own. ]
I know not exactly what was said, but mayhaps we went about this the wrong way...
[ She starts to poke a piece of venison on one end, then a vegetable of choice, another piece of venison, and repeat. ]
Instead of asking something of you and yours...how about I offer my services instead? Should you be in need of them, of course.
[ That is how most things have worked out for her, after all. Do enough favors for someone and they may trust you in the end. Or, if not, then at least you could have done something good. (Enough good deeds makes a good person, or so she wants to believe.) ]
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Has he often reached out by laying an array of threats and then refusing to leave? [ Wry amusement more than anything colours the question. And Jaskier accuses him of lacking a delicate conversational touch.
Interesting, that Himeka refers to it as we. After a second, he reaches for the cubes of vegetable and meat, and begins to pierce them onto the skewer. Fancier than what he tends to make when he's out in the woods, but they do look appealing. He'll grant her that. ]
You've no need for a peace offering. [ He turns the cube of venison on the skewer so that it's lined up with the others—a meticulousness born out of the sheer restlessness that's plagued him as of late. ] In the meantime, you should tell your friend to refrain from taking on further duties reaching out. He's shit at it.
[ If those were ever Estinien's true intentions at all. Geralt neither believes her nor doubts her entirely, and his expression says as much when he looks over at her. It also says it doesn't matter. He means it, when he tells her a peace offering isn't necessary. Either Estinien simply likes to bark, in which case he'll be easy to ignore—or he intends to make good on his word to cut through all those in his way, in which case no peace offering will make a difference. So. ]
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Neither of us are diplomats.
[ She sets her finished skewers aside between chuckles.
Though when he calls it a peace offering, her expression turns into a frown. ]
It's not--
[ Himeka stops herself...cants her head to the side, then relents with another nod. ]
Alright, it is a peace offering, at least how I'm using it now, isn't it? Though it's still an offer I'd make regardless of the circumstances.
[ Which is true--she's already made her rounds about the commune and began as such with her fellow recently freed and absconded from Thorne. She'd been just as eager and willing to show off her realm and offer gifts to Geralt and Ciri when they first met, after all. ]
Before you doubt my intentions, I just like making myself useful and keeping busy. And I admit to being a little curious about all the different people here who share our circumstances. It isn't often you get to learn about different worlds without having to travel to them all yourself.
[ She shrugs, picking up another wooden skewer and twisting it back and forth between her thumb and forefinger. ]
Not to boast, but I did win several cooking competitions back home.
[ Yes, the lauded Warrior of Light and Darkness, Savior of the First and Eorzea wants to puff her chest out over food. As one should. ]
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But he doesn't. Take personal interest, that is. So he mentions nothing of it. Instead, he sets the skewers on a plate as he finishes each one. Lets her speak as she will—though his eyes sharpen briefly when she says travel to them all yourself. He notes that down to determine later if she means it literally. ]
I doubt everyone's intentions. Don't take it personally. [ He picks up another skewer. His lips curl a hint. Did she now. That, he does believe with ease. ] Is that the champion's weapon of choice? A well-seasoned frying pan?
[ Perhaps she's onto something. If there's one thing all manner of folk agree on, it's the value of a decent meal. Hence the amount of people willing to get along out there over Sam's offering of liquor and food. ]
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Her lips quirk into a lopsided smile as she shakes her head at his remark about trusting others, honest as it is. ]
I won't. If anything, I probably have a few things I should learn from you.
[ Being that exact opposite in that arena. He would probably scoff at how many times she felt for the same schemes ere her arrival in Limsa Lominsa.
A few more assembled skewers make their way on the plate before she shifts her attention to the marinade, producing a basting brush out of the "aehter" of this world.]
Of course! Never a more trusty weapon at my side.
[ She rotates each skewer in her hand as she coats all the sides with quick, practiced strokes, knocking the stove with her hip and thick of her tail to force it to the perfect temperature as the flames on the burners come to life, two large skillets falling onto them with an audible THUD.
(Look, she may enjoy cooking in and of itself but there's no reason not to use some of these creation magics.) ]
Honestly, I did make the mistake using it as a mace once. Apparently Garlean armor isn't as sturdy against well-crafted iron as they would like to think.
[ A wink.
She thought it was a terribly funny story. Her colleagues were a little more concerned she had left her guard down in enemy territory--but what are you going to do while waiting
for your queue to popother than make a quick meal? ]And what is yours? Weapon of choice, that is.
no subject
Though, that's. Hm. His eyebrows raise as pans tumble out of thin air. A beat. Then he looks away again, with the expression of a man who isn't here to ask unneeded questions. He's accepted everyone interacts with the Horizon in their own manner, and for the most part, he's glossed over the strangeness that crops up around him, from the odd devices to bizarre creatures to...oceans inside crystals. Saves himself the headache. ]
Worse ways to leave this earth. [ There's faint amusement in his words. His assumption that the poor bastard Himeka assaulted with her frying pan obviously didn't live through it is thoughtless. He sets a few skewers aside on the plate. What. His? He tips his head. ] A sword. Nothing so unique as yours.
[ Some truth to that, even if his tone is a hint contemplative. He misses his damn sword. Both of them. He rarely goes so long without one in his hand, and his ability to summon it here in the Horizon isn't the same. He wants one out there. Where he actually needs it. End of the day, though, they're only swords. Forged according to his preferences and finely balanced, but not particularly special in any real sense. ]
Armoured men are not often my concern, though.
no subject
Nevertheless, she doesn't look or sound particularly upset at the implication that she might have killed a man with a saucepan--if anything, they deserved it for sneaking up on her. While she isn't ignorant of the fact that being a Garlean soldier does not, by default, make anyone a bad person, she also accepts that by donning the armor they are also by proxy putting their lives on the line. Death is inevitable in war. Sometimes death by kitchen implements. (They just want to spare those they really can.) ]
There certainly are.
[ She won't argue against that point, having seen plenty of death herself, whether by her own hand or not.
But swords are good, reliable weapons that many classes choose to use. She, herself, uses a rapier at times, though not nearly to the proficiency of any proper melee disciplines. Geralt looks like the kind of man who would be, though. ]
What is your concern?
[ Himeka had been planning on asking, so she might as well once the opportunity presents itself. ]
no subject
I hunt monsters. [ It's put simply, as he tends to. ] For money.
[ There's some emphasis on that. That Witchers operate exclusively for coin is common knowledge back on the Continent, but out here—he's had more than one person presume he has some moral standing behind his profession. Some protective drive. He doesn't. Not really.
He stacks the last of the skewers on the plate. When he delves into Sam's fridge for a beer, it's with the ease of a man who's familiar with the house, the host, and knows he's welcome in it. Geralt does not examine this feeling too deeply right now. Instead, his attention returns to Himeka. ]
And you?
no subject
You have to test your food, of course! ]
Ah, so is that what a "Witcher" is? A hunter?
[ For what it's wort, she has no issues with the profession. Her own travels and exploits definitely did not start out as altruistic at all--quite the opposite, actually. And as keen as she is to do what she can for others, Himeka is no stranger to trading kills for coin. ]
Me? Mm...I suppose what ever is deemed necessary. Monsters, yes...sometimes people...or a very ornery sheep if they're causing enough trouble. But I'm usually only called in by name if it's something specialized.
[ There is a considerable pause as she looks at Geralt, then at the beer, then back at Geralt expectantly. ]
no subject
Something of the sort. [ Hunter is effectively what he's introduced himself as half the time if only to avoid the roundabout conversation where he needs to explain what a Witcher is in the first place. It's more than a profession, more than a job, but all of that's complicated. Unimportant to the conversation at hand. He doesn't bring it up.
He looks between her and the beer. Then he reaches in for a second and tosses it her way. Should he ask about the ornery sheep? Mm. Perhaps not.
The bottle is odd to him, but after turning it in his hand a second, he slides his thumb under the rough edges of the cap to pop it off. ] Specialized?
no subject
"Something of the sort", hm? She feels like there is probably more to it than that, especially considering "monster" can be a very general term. But she's patient and figures details may come with time. ]
A hunter of monsters in particular, then?
[ Doesn't mean she won't see what he's willing to share. To her it sounds like they're in similar professions, as it was with Ciri when they spoke, which is an automatic +10 to friendship in her book. He gets no choice in that matter.
Luckily she catches the beer, though she is immediately put off by the cap. What is this? Where is the cork? Glancing at the current set of skewers on the grill, she leaves them for a minute as she figures out how to deal with the contraption keeping her from her booze. Geralt seems to pop it off easily, but she isn't so lucky and frowns slightly. ]
Mmhmm.
[ She hums, half-distracted as she gets an idea. Himeka calls a bit of fire to hand and applies it to the bottle cap, heating it until the material is malleable and starts to deform. Then she flicks it off with a proud smile. ]
We--myself, and more recently Estinien--are members of an organization that exists outside of local governments to ensure the future of the realm. In particular, we deal with threats that others are either less-inclined or ill-equipped to address.
[ Himeka takes a drink of the beer then, of course finding the top of the glass too hot. Ow. Good job. ]
I--
[ A pause as she rubs her lip. Is that going to burn? ]
--am usually on the job when we are facing Primals and their ilk as I'm immune to their call.
no subject
Geralt tips back his beer, eyeing Himeka with a mixture of intrigue and bemusement. He considers offering to open it for her (why create a bottle like this?), but she appears to have it well in hand—even if her solution is. Unconventional. But effective. That's one way to do it.
His brows draw together a hint as she brings the heatedd glass to her lips. Wait. She isn't—except she does, and were he not watching her prepare a meal this entire time, he'd assume she's got several drinks in her already. The look Geralt casts in her direction says that if he were the type to shake his head at her, he would be. ]
Noble. [ Geralt does offer more than that; he's already heard it from Estinien's mouth, and his feelings on orders of that function are complicated at best. At the moment, he doesn't care to get into it. It's never really about intentions for him. It's about what those intentions inevitably spawn.
He takes another skewer instead. If he'll be helping make these, then he'll eat them, too. ] You must be in high demand.
no subject
Only.
[ Geralt is making the effort to clarify that, so it must be an important distinction for him. As a man of few words each must be chosen carefully, right? ]
You must have some fun stories, then. Or terrifying ones. Though I suppose those can be one and the same depending on who you talk to.
[ Not forgetting the skewers, she turns over the few that still need some proper charring at the edges while moving the finished ones to the platter and settling the next bunch on. ]
Sometimes "monsters" can be much more sympathetic than people.
[ At "noble", she has to smile a bit. The intentions of her colleagues have always been noble, long before she came on board to the notion, which was much too late for how long she had been working for them. ]
It certainly can be in the right hands and with the right heading.
[ Okay, yes, she is trying the ice thing and it's only a moment before the entire bottle has a thick layer of frost as well as some noticeable ice formation inside the bottle itself. But it's cool enough that when she puts her lips to it she can finally take a hearty drink. Nice and cool.
Ah!
Her tail swishes happily behind her as she sets the bottle down on the counter. Well, tries to set--apparently she's fused it a bit with the ice but it only takes a few shakes to break it, thankfully. ]
Yes, though it'd be better for everyone if I wasn't.
[ Whether that's because the threats are that large, her ability to deal with them properly, or simply her desire to is left unsaid. ]
"Witcher" is an interesting term. When I think "witch" I don't immediately think of a monster hunter. Do you have witches on your star?
no subject
All right.
He still doesn't comment, but there's a distinct sigh before he tips back his own ale and takes a drink. What were they talking about again. Monsters being less of a bastard than people? Mm. Yeah. He can agree with that. As for stories—the only fun and terrifying tales he's got are the ones Jaskier has spun with his embellished touch. ] Not particularly. Unless you find three days' worth of sitting in the rain outside a nest exciting.
[ A keen interest grows in his eyes when she says It'd be better for everyone if I wasn't; though Geralt doesn't address it aloud, there's a sense he's taken especial note of that remark. Or maybe it's possible for Himeka to have realized that he's taken note of almost every remark in their conversation, whether he responds to it or not.
That last question, he does answer. ] Sure. Mages, sorcerers. Druids. All about the same. [ He shrugs. Truthfully, he isn't certain why Witchers are called what they are. It just is. If there's a root cause for the term, it's long been lost, but given how they were created, he imagines not too much thought was given. ] Why is an elf called an elf?
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