[ CLOSED ] my skin peels off like paint

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: April Pre-event
Where: Cadens, Horizon
What: In the aftermath of Nero's death
Warnings: Standard Witcher canon.


can't you hear that scratching?
there's something at the door;

discontinued | quantifies | starters below.

Comments

[flagrates]

I'm sorry for your loss.

[ It's genuine, heartfelt. Clive puts the feather away and turns slightly to Geralt. ]

Do you want to talk about him?

[ In the later years, it helped. To talk to Jill about Joshua, their memories of him when they were children. It still ached, but less in the way of a sore tooth that kept you up at night and more of the warm stretch of a muscle long cramped. ]

[gynvael]

[ The offer is not unappreciated, and it shows on Geralt's face. But after a second, he shakes his head. ]

Not really. [ A beat. ] Do you?

[ An equally sincere invitation. He liked Joshua, of the brief time they spent together. Not much resemblance physically, but he could see how one such as Joshua fit into the heart of a man like Clive. A calming force, perhaps; gentle but not exactly fragile.

He doesn't realize that Clive lost Joshua once. Or thought he had. That had never come up between them. ]

[flagrates]

[ Clive takes a deep breath. Maybe it will help them both. ]

My brother... When he was ten years old, we lost our father in a coup orchestrated by our mother. He witnessed our father's death, and in his terror, became the Phoenix for the first time, uncontrolled. I was his First Shield, blessed with a portion of his power, sworn to protect him. And I failed.

[ He lifts a hand, looking at it, clenching his fingers into a fist. ]

Though I had no choice in it, I lost my brother that night to my own hand. And for eighteen years, he was lost to me. Fate would see us reunited, only for me to lose him again. [ He pauses, unclenching his fist to gaze up into the branches above, rubbing his fingers together. ]

And now I've lost him a third time.

[gynvael]

[ Silence falls over them. He doesn't understand everything about the dominants and eikons, but he knows enough about magic and mystical power sources to know what it often means: abilities that grip you beyond your control, accidental destruction. Ciri underwent the same. ]

They say Destiny is a fickle mistress. But...if your fates are intertwined, who knows? [ He picks up the sword again, flipping it over in his hands. He thought he lost Ciri several times over. And yet, here they are. Reunited against all odds. Even so, faith can't buoy one's heart forever. There's a danger when you cling too hard.

Sometimes, a loss is just that. A part of life. Doesn't mean anything more. ]

Still feels like shit, though.

[flagrates]

[ It's so correct and to the point that Clive has to let out a short bark of a laugh at Geralt's words, an actual smile crossing his features for what feels like the first time in moons. He glances over, eyes dropping to the sword again, back up to Geralt's face. ]

Absolute shit.

[ He reaches forward, running his hands over the ground beneath them. ]

All she's ever chosen for me is sorrow. [ His smile turns a little more sad. ]

So I make my own choices instead, Destiny and Fate be damned. Still, [ he trails off, indulging in that part of him that's selfish when it comes to Jill and Joshua. ]

If she wants to be kind enough to bring my brother back to me and save him from what I could not, I'm not sure I would argue.

[gynvael]

[ Head tilted thoughtfully, Geralt studies Clive for a moment. His relationship with Destiny is something he's still reflecting on, a force he can no longer deny but is equally disinclined to believe makes choices for him. Perhaps it brings threads together—winding them ever closer—but the decision to stay the course is still theirs.

He has always found her. Ciri. Clive might experience the same. What is fate bound if not reuniting with your brother thrice over?

Or just a hell of a coincidence. ]

I'm not sure I would, either. [ But for now, he'll. Move on. Like he always does.

After a beat, he asks: ]

Is that why you're an outlaw? Fallen kingdom?

[ A coup is a choice word to describe a betrayal. It fits—Clive carries himself like a man who rebuilt his life. Maybe he recognizes that look. ]

[flagrates]

Not a kingdom. [ He concedes, tilting his head to the side. ]

A duchy. My father was Archduke, a stand-in for Joshua, the rightful heir as the Phoenix. [ There's no bitterness there, despite Clive clearly being the elder brother. Maybe when he was very, very, young there had been a time where he'd been sad about never being given the chance to inherit the title, but if there had been he can't remember it. Joshua had been born, the Phoenix had awakened in him, and had chosen that day to be his protector. Byron had given him the chance to take Rosaria back as the Archduke, and Clive hadn't wanted it then, either. ] We were an independent nation regardless, rulers and nobility in our own right. My father ruled as kind as the world would allow him, which drove my mother up the wall and is why she orchestrated his downfall. She wanted to take the Phoenix with her, but our Mistress had other ideas.

[ But Geralt doesn't need all that history. At least, not today. ]

I became an outlaw to honor the memory of someone dear to me.

wrap? 🎀

[gynvael]

[ That is a curious statement to make, but Geralt decides not to pry as to what might've disqualified him from his lineage. Where heirs are concerned, there's usually one common reason for that—and Clive and Joshua do not share many features.

Either way, Clive seems to bear as complicated a history as anyone. Phoenixes and vessels—he wonders how much of that shit the man's relieved to escape from here. ]

That's one way to do it. [ Geralt rises to his feet and claps a hand on Clive's shoulder. Perhaps they'll talk under better circumstances next time. ] I'll tell Jaskier you came looking.

[ Or Moglad will. The moogles are around somewhere. ]

wrap!

[flagrates]

[ He smiles, nodding as Geralt stands, reaching up to put a hand on Geralt's on his shoulder. ]

Thank you. And Geralt... If you ever need to talk.

[ He huffs a soft laugh. ]

Or not. You know where to find me.