EVENT #6: PEACE ON THE HORIZON

[abraxasmods]

Event #6 - EVENT INFO

go to the OOC event info and plotting post

---

Those that agree to attend the Summit will travel via portals to the designated location, which is out in the open in neutral territory. Plenty of pretty mountains and flowers. A magic field is erected over this area. Characters can only enter and exit at designated portals. It is not possible to leave this encircled area, which will also negate teleportation and portal spells. Plus, you don't want to embarrass your faction by sneaking out of bounds!

Before entering, all will be given a pin that designates what faction they belong to. This pin is not only color-coded but enchanted so that even should the appearance change, mages from any faction can identify who is who. The Summoned will be required to wear this pin at all times during the Summit.

The Summoned will be offered a comfortable tent to stay in during the 3-day Summit period! There's also a communal bath and a lounge to enjoy. A simple but tasty complimentary breakfast is provided for everyone, and additional meals can be bought from the faction booths or at the lounge. See the Neutral Section detailed below for more.

As noted, CHARACTERS MAY CHANGE FACTIONS USING THIS EVENT. To switch factions, please reply to the comment here. See the OOC post (link above) for details or questions!

The "Peace" Summit

An open plain flanked by mountains to the north and south, a large circular area has been fenced off. Large poles embedded into the earth are connected with magical rings, drooping heavy in the middle as if the ethereal chains have real weight. The area is divided into thirds, each section a mass of colorful tents and booths. In the center is a large wooden stage. All attendees must sit through this keynote speech. It's only polite.

The Prime Minister of the Free Cities begins the opening address. In formal military regalia she's the first to address the crowd, raising her arms high to command attention. She's smiling.

+ Marlo's Speech

"We'd like to start by welcoming all of you. For those that don't know me, I'm Marlo Renier, Prime Minister of the Free Cities. With me are Councilwoman Winifred Bordeaux of the Solvunn Communities and Queen Ellya Gladwin of the Kingdom of Thorne. We come together today in the spirit of good will. We may be divided by borders but we're all neighbors. We all share this continent. We may not always share the same opinions or agree on everything but who does? There's one thing we do agree on though - nobody is looking to start trouble. That's about the last thing anybody needs right now. That's why we're all here today. A show of good faith, a display of trust, and hopefully the first step on a long road of diplomacy and mutual understanding. And we all expect everybody on their best behavior and to conduct themselves in the spirit of this Summit.

I'm going to turn things over to Councilwoman Bordeaux now. Thank you, and you all should come check out what the Free Cities has to offer! Councilwoman?"

Marlo steps aside for the representative of Solvunn to take center stage.

+ Winifred's Speech

Winifred steps forward, nodding hear head to Marlo before turning her attention to the gathered crowd. Her own attire is modest, a dress of ivory and forest green adorned with hundreds of embroidered flowers and a velvet bodice in a deep wine red.

"Thank you, Prime Minister. Some of you are likely only to know of Solvunn due to the terrible circumstances surrounding Eifstide, for which we must humbly apologize. It was not our intention to cause such pain and happened merely by accident. While that does not take away what has occurred, we do hope that we can move forward together to create a brighter, more connected continent. All of us has something to share with each other, and it is my sincerest hope that we may learn from you, as well.

The Gods smile upon the unification of our mighty communities! May we be blessed with a friendship of longevity and prosperity!. For those of you curious as to what Solvunn can do for you, look no further than this Summit's festivities. It is my pleasure to let Queen Ellya of Thorne conclude todays formalities."

+ Queen Ellya's Speech

When it's Queen Ellya's turn to speak, she addresses the crowd with hands folded. For this occassion she's worn an elaborate gown of bright blue shot through with silver that seems to shift and move through the fabric.

"Such inspiring words, truly. I can only echo the sentiments put forth before me. I hope that this Summit shows to one and all that Thorne intends no aggression toward our fellow kingdoms. Certainly, through collaborative efforts such as this, understanding can be found. Tensions can be resolved. Even between such opposite minded cultures. I am confident that these few days will be very illuminating for each and every one of you. I urge you to go forth with eyes and ears open, to ensure all that can be learned is. Enjoy yourselves. Indulge yourselves. Educate yourselves. The festivities will now commence!"

Spreading her hands towards the audience, Queen Ellya slowly steps back to her place with the others.

From here on out, the festivities commence! Characters are encouraged to freely explore each faction's section as they please - and of course, to be respectful of their neighbors. They're all friends here, after all.

Mingle & Activities

Every faction has their own setup of booths and displays that feature a variety of activities and items. Booths open in the morning and close a couple hours after sundown in the evenings. Attendants at each place will be friendly, although some may notice that while the Summoned wander more freely, there is very little intermingling among the locals of each faction. The occasional dirty look may be exchanged when no one's looking and those with keen eyes might find evidence of petty bits of vandalism.

Click to expand the sections below for a description of each area.

Thorne Section

Each booth in Thorne's section are adorned with opulent fabrics in the same blues and silvers of the Queen's dress. Magically lit lanterns are strewn on the fronts and within tents and will change colors throughout the day and over the course of the weekend. Regardless of the weather, being beneath the awnings is always pleasant as if indoors in a properly warmed and ventilated room. Nothing is left wanting. Luxury and ease through the use of magic is emphasized.

Though not calling out any who wander the aisle, any who approach a booth will be greeted with a pleasant smile. Mages are eager to show off their magicks by the use of spells, staves, wands, and magical enchantments from ancient tomes. A booth from Hayle University gives demonstrations and short lectures on the hour every hour, letting the Summoned know that with enough practice they, too, can become a Master of Magicks.

For those who came with a full coin purse, there are fine wines, expensive tapestries and fabrics, sparkling accessories and more available for purchase. If you're feeling hungry, it is highly suggested that you try the decadent and delicately dressed dishes comparable to what's served in Castle Thorne itself.

Along with magic shows, the most popular booth is that of the Pondering Orb. Form an orderly line and wait for your turn to approach the orb. All will be allotted five whole minutes to think their deepest thoughts as they lay their hands upon the orb and ponder. The little bit of tingling that you feel and the faint glow that grows the longer you touch it just means that it's working.

Free Cities Section

The Free Cities area can be heard from nearly all the other sections, alive with sound and activity. There's a state of carefully balanced chaos between the different booths and lanterns are connected by long wires, powered by generators placed proudly out in front - in almost direct competition to the magical light show that Thorne has been putting on. It's just a bit of friendly rivalry, of course. There's nothing wrong with having such a strong reliance on magic, even if it seems rather outdated.

Attendants are eager to show off all their grand innovations, including meals in a can (main course and dessert all in one dubious goop can!) and a small variety of old-style guns. They are the only faction displaying these weapons. In addition, they'll talk about the impressive level of productivity their workers provide in the name of progress. Naturally, no one is forced to work overtime. It's only that their people are so dedicated to their work, even a common factory worker will go out of their way to help science and innovation. The Summoned are encouraged to consider joining a nation with such a high level of ambition, and there's always room for everyone in their powerful military.

To commemorate the event, those participating can stamp their bronze with a fancy gear pattern. It takes about fifteen seconds to press and renders the bronze worthless to spend, but what's more valuable than a souvenir? There is a sign that says No refunds if you aren't happy with the result, although if the machine happens to swallow your coin, you will be given a new bronze to stamp free of charge. Isn't that generous?

Solvunn Section

Solvunn's booths are covered with handmade tablecloths in various styles - quilted, patchwork, crochet, and intricate embroidery. Enchanted candles of all shapes and sizes float and illuminate the area, some changing color as the day goes on. When the sun sets, all the candles take on a shade that imitates moonlight.

Those who are running booths will call out to anyone who approaches, ushering them to the booths in order to ply them with friendly conversation and small samples of their wares. For the right price, there are specialty honeys, cheeses, candies, and all other manner of goat-based products. A few booths also have goat's milk soaps, lotions, and candles. Ask a Solvunnite about what good a goat is and they'll tell you everything. The mages are equally more than happy to show off their mastery, though not just in flashy elemental magic. Mages fond of divination, tealeaf readings, and interpreting tarot will offer one-on-one demonstrations, especially if you've some coin to spare.

This year, Solvunn has decided to extend its Spring Equinox celebration to the other Abraxans at the Summit! Everyone is encouraged to join in the festivities as now is the time for observing the balance of day and night. This celebration is devoted to new life - new community members, additions to their flocks, and the bringing of goodwill for the year's crops. A maypole is erected at the center of the celebration and if it stays upright until the following festival, it's taken as a sign that the community's harvest will be bountiful.

Additionally, the shrine of Lyfbringr has been erected with paintings and several small statues depicting an androgynous god that appears as an amalgamation of man, flora, and fauna. The shrine is enclosed in a tent that is half bright cheery colors and darker monochromatic shades.

Representatives of Solvunn stand by to weave colorful ribbons or rings of flowers into people's hair or tie small bells onto their wrists. There are many baby goats frolicking in a temporary paddock that guests are free to mill about in. The Summoned are invited to consider a life among a peaceful neighborly commune where help and friendship are right at your doorstep!

Neutral Section

This area is meant for everyone to mingle, but the Summoned will find they're mostly the only ones here as the locals prefer to stay within their factions. It's lightly decorated with no particular colors or emblems of any one faction. Ample ambient lighting gives the place a warm glow once the sun goes down. Wooden benches are placed sporadically between the different designated areas, making sure that no one has to go far to find a place to rest their feet.

The Lounge Tavern is open at noon for 2 hours for lunch, and then again at sunset in the evenings, where anyone can come to have a drink or a meal. Beneath the protection of a large, open air tent, seating is provided in the form of more wooden benches and long shared tables, as well as a few stools. Vintages, ales, and meads from each of the factions are available to enjoy. A few recreational activities are available, as well, such as darts and dice games. The tables and seats are placed close together, to encourage mingling and talk among each other. Though the bar is staffed by NPC volunteers, all are expected to bus their own tables when they leave.

The Sleeping Tents are where the Summoned will return to for the night to sleep. Each tent has large number of pillows, throws, and a few large mats that can be arranged as desired for optimal comfort. The ground itself is lined in animal pelts, mostly sheep and goat, making it soft and inviting. They are indeed shared, but there's plenty of room for everyone. Each tent can fit about 8-10 people - or more, if you cozy up.

The Communal Baths open in both the evenings and in the mornings for a few hours each, which is effectively an open bathhouse pool. The pool is dug into the ground itself and lined with special tile manufactured from the Free Cities, hailed for its ability to hold water without the use of special sealant. The waters are magically warmed to the ideal temperature using enchanted stones from Thorne that create a natural border around the edges, and soap (made of goat's milk, courtesy of Solvunn) and towels are provided. Here, those attending can bathe as well as use it as a mingle.

Summit Events

Meant to be a "collaboration" between the factions, the Summit also offers activities that take place on the main stage where the speeches were initially given.

Raffle

The Summoned will be provided a single courtesy raffle ticket, which they can use to enter the raffle contest. Additional tickets will cost an extra 5 bronze coins. To enter the raffle contest, fill out the comment here and we will RNG your prizes!

Regardless of luck, all those who enter will receive all 3 (one of each) of the following consolation prizes:

• Inkless Quill: Provided by Thorne, this is a magical quill that never runs out of ink...sort of. It'll work for about a month of heavy use before it runs out of juice. The Thorne sigil will automatically watermark any pages that this quill is used to write on.
• Tote Bag & Charm: Provided by Solvunn, this soft woven tote bag comes with a small handmade charm depicting a sigil of one of the old gods. If asked what the god or sigil means, the only answer is that you will know when your time comes.
• Glow Ring: Provided by the Free Cities, this ring will adjust to fit any finger size. It comes with a round orb instead of a jewel that can light up on command and act as a powerful torch or flashlight. Very powerful. People have gone blind by looking directly into it for too long.

An Escaped Creature

On the second day of the event, rumor has it a small creature has gone loose! The offender in question is this little fellow, who is the size of a small poodle. The Summoned are asked to help find and catch him, if at all possible. He's noted to be harmless if mischievous, but all those in the area are warned to be careful for if he's startled, the animal will eject a magical plume from his quills that can cause one of the following temporary effects: excessive sneezing, a change in hair color, glitter bombed, or to emit a constant glowing aura.

No one knows where he came from or who brought him, but ask any of the faction attendants and they'll be liable to start pointing fingers at the other side. Nonetheless, all those who make an effort to help catch him will be thanked and available mages may attempt to help with the side effects.

If you want your character to make a real attempt at catching him, reply to the comment here by Feb 20th and we'll RNG who eventually catches him. If your character fails, however, they must take one of its side effects for the rest of the day. The choice as to which one is yours! The winner will be rewarded with a token bottle of wine for their troubles or a very fancy dessert if they don't drink.

Comments

[gynvael]

[ If there's more to add about dryads, Geralt does not elaborate. She might be teasing him about her flower talking, she might not. He's in no rush to discover which. One of those curiosities that will answer themselves in time.

He's eyeing his surroundings as he walks—takes in the children, the village elders, the animals. His medallion gives a faint hum when he passes a wispy-haired woman bent over cards divining what's to come. Half-woven daisy crowns piled on the ground are idly sidestepped and he settles on the stool next to a basket of. Yet more flowers. There are so many fucking flowers, he can hardly distinguish between the scent of one kind over another. He's only just sat when her hand enters his field of vision.

He takes it. He does give his name— ] Geralt. [ —and she's in luck here, because Geralt is many things, but secretive about his identity is not one of them. When was the last time where he wasn't known? Three, four decades. Certainly not since Blaviken. A reputation of some sort has always followed him; he managed to keep his head down in Cadens for about a month before he gave up. He can't get hired if people don't actually know who's been killing their monsters. Jaskier's not about to stop singing his songs any time soon. It is what it is.

His gaze shifts up towards her for a second before he looks back ahead. His reply is lightly prodding, but not entirely serious. ] Depends. If I ask what bargain needs to be struck, do they consider that a question to be bargained for?

[bloomly]

Geralt, hmm? That sounds like a lovely name.

( is it, or is she just making niceties? platitudes, to pass the time? really, though, it's a name she's never heard before, and she's known plenty of people, from below the plates to up above. he doesn't seem particularly bothered by sharing the information, either, which means that he either has accepted, albeit reluctantly, that he is something to be known in this place, or everyone already knows him already. she hasn't heard his name among those in solvunn; she can be mostly sure of that.

there's a soft laugh at his question--it's not really a fair one, come to think of it, but she lets him linger on it, offering a soft, thoughtful hum as she moves around him, artfully dodging the piles of flower crowns and discarded stems and leaves, moving on the toes of her boots to keep from stepping on, or squashing, anything in her path. it's almost like an intricate little dance, making her way back to the table, but she isn't trouble, doesn't mind the crowded mess around her, and instead starts to thoughtfully move her fingers through a pile of daisies, plucking out a few white blooms. )

I suppose the flowers would want to know things about you. Why you're here, for one. What you're looking for. Do you think you could answer that?

( it's light, and conversational--almost like she's telling the truth, rather than contriving up her own questions; she looks up at him, eyes his face once and then presses her lips together, wondering, as she holds up one of the daisies, as though trying it out against the shade of his hair and face, before she sets it back down again. )

Or maybe something easier. Like... What makes you smile, if you ever do.

[gynvael]

[ Does it. Geralt glosses over the remark altogether. He can hear rustling through the flowers. She says a lot, he thinks, without saying much at all. Despite her open friendliness, she's only offered her name—no family name or place of origin attached—and that she may or may not speak to flowers. There's something to be said about people who converse almost exclusively in questions.

He reaches down to pat a small goat as it headbutts his leg. He takes his time to answer—not reluctant, just unhurried, like he doesn't especially care if the silence bothers anyone or not. ]

I was lost. Apparently. [ He slides his gaze sidelong, before offering, ] I came to examine the shrine.

[ That is the simplest answer, so it's the one he gives. But really, he's here because they were all fucking dragged here, because there's a giant rock in the middle of this sphere that might open a yawning portal into the universe, because Yennefer promised him she will take the opportunity to leave Thorne if she can and he doesn't know if he trusts she will do so by the end of this little affair. He doesn't know if the queen will find another reason to set her sights on him again, because of some indiscretion between him and Yennefer. Or worse, Ciri.

A mysterious shrine is an easier problem to solve. Perhaps that's why he's lingering about a woman keen on sticking plants in his hair. A suitable distraction. ]

[bloomly]

The shrine...

( there's a lifting lilt to her voice, like it all makes sense. it doesn't.

he hardly seems like any of the more devout people that she's come across, people who have laced their hands together in front of the shrine, desperate for help or guidance. she can't fault them their faith, and would never tell someone what to believe in, but there's a sinking feeling to her stomach when she sees the way that people act about it, as though there's something wonderful and absolute about that strange place in the center of everything, too, or like there's going to be something wonderful that will appear to guide them all to the right places. her expression falters for a moment, but she picks it back up again: turns away, lays one of the daises aside and goes for another one.

it doesn't matter. in this place, she isn't something to be coveted like that; in this place, there's no shinra to drag her into submission, no pieces of her mother waiting under a microscope.

satisfied with her daisy choice, she nods, then sets a few of the flowers into geralt's lap for him to hold. after all, if he's just going to sit there, then he might as well make himself useful. )

The flowers know a lot about the shrine. What do you know about it?

( conversationally, as she rounds on him again; now is the hard part, where her fingers nimbly lift to the band that keeps some of his hair out of his face, drags it down carefully, and touches, gingerly, to fan his hair out across his shoulders. it needs to be washed, she thinks, but there's nothing she can do about that now. with a soft, almost playful sigh, she reaches for a wide-toothed comb to bring it to his hair. )

You don't seem like you would believe all that at all, which means you're here to prove something wrong.

[gynvael]

[ He takes the daisies when they're given. Lines up the stems so they're even, an idle gesture. What, the shrine? He's only heard roughly of what it is, which is why he's come to examine it for himself. ]

Fertility, harvest. Not uncommon for spring.

[ He's more curious if it's got ties to any of the cautionary tales heard out of Solvunn as of late. Sometimes gods are just gods—figures to worship. Sometimes they are more. Sometimes they lurk in the woods, an entity, and they take the sacrifices offered. Sometimes he leaves it be, because the villagers simply do not want to see the truth, that their god is only a hungry monster taking advantage, and he knows if he removes it, they will only find another to begin anew. Some things about humans are not for him to solve.

His fingers curl lightly around the flowers. She's presumptuous, isn't she? But he's used to that, too. ]

Am I? [ She will find his hair is as tangled as it looks. He doesn't own a brush. ] I don't believe your flowers know shit, either. But if you do, what does it matter?

[ He believes none of it, it's true. He spent a good portion of his childhood at a temple nonetheless. One of the few close people in his life is a devout woman. What she taught him is still important. It makes no difference if the lessons came from a higher power or where; the purpose they serve is the same. ]

[bloomly]

( to anyone else, she thinks that someone might take offense to those words--that having their possible beliefs, silly or not, called into question would certainly rattle up their pride enough to have them angry, even fighting against them; it's not the first time someone has questioned that sort of ability, though, and even she doesn't necessarily believe that it's true, especially not here. the flowers don't say anything to her at all. the fact that he doesn't seem to give a damn makes her laugh--once, bright, as she works the comb through his hair.

it would be impolite to chide him on his hygiene habits. she hardly knows him--not that that has necessarily stopped her before. )

Say I believe my flowers talk. That's fine. That isn't hurting anyone.

( it's said in a warm voice, thoughtful; she works methodically, catching tangles and holding them deftly with one hand to shake the comb through them. his hair comes out rather soft, once she's gone through most of them--it makes her smile, satisfied. )

But say I believe my flowers talk, and they tell me that the mighty flower god demands sacrifice, and that I should kill for the sake of it. Then that matters, right?

( a small clatter, as she sets the comb down. one slim arm reaches over geralt's shoulder--she reaches into his lap for one of those neatly-arranged daisies, plucks it up and then settles back behind him again. her fingers work, careful but sure, to start braiding one section of his hair, thumbing the stem of the daisy into the thick of it. )

[gynvael]

[ She has a cheerful laugh—the kind that seems to say you're in on the secret, whether you realize it or not. There's a sense Geralt is not deliberately provoking her with his statement; only that he thinks what he thinks, and she can take offence or not as she decides. She doesn't, so that's all well and good.

The comb untangles his hair bit by bit. He can't be bothered with his hair—spend most of your life in the wilderness and you tend to give up doing much when it gets undone within a minute, anyhow. Old habits and all.

He can feel her fingers work a small braid. The stillness in him is almost unnatural—almost, except for the flowers he idly toys with. ]

Depends. [ He could treat her remark as rhetorical, but he doesn't. He passes her one of the daisies without looking up. Hands one to a boy walking past, too. ] Would you choose to listen?

[ Doesn't matter what you're told. It's what you do. ]

[bloomly]

Well, I might kill you for giving away one of the flowers I picked out for you...

( this is said in a pleasing, almost teasing sort of tone--not that she really minds. she would do the same, honestly, which sort of endears her towards geralt, as though he is not quite the rough person on the outside, once someone dives deep enough inside. still: it does mean that she has to reach to the table for another daisy. this one is a different color, but it'll do.

carefully, she continues her braid, tying it off at the end with one of the bands from around her wrist. she sections off a bit of hair to start on another one. )

But no, I don't think I would listen. Then again, I'm just one strange girl... What sort of an effect would my actions have, if there are so many other people who might also be listening?

( there's a small smile, and at his back, at least he can't see how it twitches at the corners, as though bent there with a flicker of sadness. )

How do you convince someone what they're doing is wrong, when they're convinced that it's right?

[gynvael]

[ He gives a small huff of a laugh in reply. He hasn't seen her, he thinks, wandering much, and he wonders if she's largely stayed here. How at home are those in Solvunn? Might be the nature of it makes their Summoned less inclined to feel like there must be real answers elsewhere.

For a moment, he doesn't answer. You don't, is what he's inclined to say. You learn to let go of what cannot be changed, or you wind up swept in it, too. Though perhaps he's not as good at letting go as he wants to be, even if he knows where it will lead him: with blood spilled and more than a few regrets.

Still, he has someone to take care of now. Several someones. It changes things, a bit. ]

Are you concerned someone's doing something wrong?

[ Are they still in the world of hypothetical speaking flowers here? Feels as though they aren't quite. ]

[bloomly]

( it's an expected question, and yet doesn't that somehow make it even more difficult? she approaches it with silence, to start, her fingers working nimbly, steadily, as though her thoughts have no bearing on the movement of them. there are a few braids, now, threaded together with daisy stems: fragile things, maybe, but they're woven so neatly in that it will take a little effort to get them pulled out. that may be the point. )

Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe not here.

( a half of a shrug--then it's moving her hands so that she can lace all the braids together, tie them down the center of his hair with one larger band. )

It's hard to say. I just sometimes get a bad feeling, and I can't tell if it's something from back home that's chased me here, or if it's something from back home trying to warn me, here.

( idly, she works her fingertips down to the end of his hair, smoothing the length of it out against the back of his shoulders--before she plants her palms there, as though to signal something with the gentle squeeze. his muscles barely move beneath her grip; he's quite strong, she thinks. )

So! Now that you're done, you owe me a favor. That makes sense, right? Since I did something su~per nice for you, like this?

[gynvael]

[ Chased me here. He slips that piece of information away. If something was pursuing her back home, he's curious what it is that makes her think it may have slithered into this world after her. He's been wanting to know himself—what else may have come through in between these summonings. If that's a possibility they need to keep an eye on. It's been, what. Months? Fucking around with a spell no one's used in ages, if not ever?

Magic like that doesn't often come without consequences.

He doesn't ask, though, what exactly she means. Her initial question goes unanswered, as well. She will find this a common feature of conversations with him. Instead, he makes a thoughtful sound while she finishes fussing with his hair. It isn't the first time he's had it in a braid, but it's certainly rare. He tends to have little care to do much more than tie it back out of the way.

He lowers one boot off the stool's footrest. His hands are empty of flowers now that they've all went into his hair. He turns his head a little, though he doesn't quite look over his shoulder at her. ]

Depends on the favour.

[bloomly]

( somehow, despite the flowers she's already woven into the braids of his hair, it feels wrong to let him go empty-handed. even when he rises, free of the burden of any stems or blossoms in his lap, she's immediately searching the table with both palms, fingers pushing gently at different colors and different petals until she picks one she thinks will be perfect.

after all, it's as close as she can get to the flowers back home, from her garden--something pale yellow, a large lily with its petals spread open, gaping with interest.

with a little skip, she plants herself at geralt's side; with a playfully deep bow, she hops back up and holds the flower out to him. the favor, really, is something simple: )

I'm looking for someone. If you come across him, will you let me know?

( her eyes shine up at him, but the smile on her face is carefully guarded, cheerful to ward off any hint of worry. )

Blonde hair, blue-green eyes. His name is Cloud. Oh, and my name is Aerith. Aerith Gainsborough! You can use those-- ( her fingers wiggle in front of her, like she's casting some sort of ridiculous spell. ) --mind messages, or whatever they are, if you ever want to talk to me. I'll want to know how long your flowers lasted, too.

[gynvael]

[ His eyebrow quirks upward, but he takes the offered bloom without comment. Looking for someone catches his interest; the description only seals it. ]

I have. [ He tips his head in the direction of the pavilion where the Free Cities have made their presence known. ] We've met.

[ A time or two. They are not near close, but Cloud has struck him as, perhaps, not prone to making the brightest decisions. Not his job to look after everyone, though, so he's interfered only once, when Cloud meant to trek across the unknown desert on foot, to get to the other end of it.

To Solvunn. Someone I know, Cloud had said. A woman.

Geralt peers at Aerith. Could be a coincidence, but how many women in Solvunn could Cloud possibly know who'd also be searching for him in turn? ] He was looking for you. You can't reach him?

[ If she knows of the mind messages, then hasn't she tried to use it to find him? ]

[bloomly]

( there's surprise, written across her features--it's hard to reel back, hard to know that something she had only minimally had any faith in could be true. it means a lot of things, but the most important is that cloud is actually here, and more than that, is here and safe; that's about as much as she can hope for.

she tries to overcorrect it--her brows push together, and there's a light laugh, breathless, from her lips. it's hard to explain. ) It... scared him, I think. Those kinds of messages. Sometimes I think that he has...trouble, well, arranging his thoughts, and I just sort of became an extra accessory to his headaches! It's okay, though.

( both of her hands lift up in front of her, waving slightly. )

I guess that means I can change my favor, then. If you see him again... will you just make sure that he stays safe? At least as long as he's in your sight. You don't have to tell him about me, or that we met... I'm worried it might do more harm than good. I just want him to be okay.

( she doesn't know geralt well--but it feels like something he might understand, even a little. )

[gynvael]

[ What she says, it appears not to surprise Geralt. If anything, it seems to almost bring a sort of understanding to him, as though she's answered a question he's yet to ask but has had for some time now. ]

I've noticed. When we met, I scared him. [ He doesn't mean Cloud is scared of him, in particular. Rather that what might be going on with Cloud, his unannounced appearance outside the barrack door appears to have. Bothered him. For a short moment.

He gets it. He doesn't prod for further details. ] I will. [ There's a small pause. ] Take care of yourself, Aerith.

[ He lifts the flower she handed him in something of a parting greeting, before he slips away. ]