abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] through open passageways

[ Most definitely from her perspective, because Geralt, at over a foot taller than her, nearly grazes the low ceiling. A wooden beam lurks that he has to duck under every time he goes past it. (At some point in the near future, he will hit his head on it at least once and never speak of it.) There are several reasons she's the best fit to take the upper room and her smaller stature is one of them.

It's nice, though. Not extravagant, but the windows shut firmly to keep out the dust and can open wide to let in the air. Later, he will think about how he feels, this settling that they are doing. In the meantime, Rinwell wants a shelf and Geralt needs something to focus on. ]

Want to visit the carpenter?

[ They can get the wood for her shelves, and she can help him put it up on the wall. It'll be easier to do while her things are still packed away. ]

[ Rinwell is just short enough that with a little effort, she can squeeze out of that window and out onto the roof. Useful, someday, maybe. Certainly for stargazing.

Geralt asks if she wants to go to the carpenter, and her eyes widen. Now?

Well, why not? The day isn't getting any younger, and her day is free - and evidently, so is Geralt's. It isn't often that she gets to spend time in his company but for all he's not as chatty as a certain bard, she enjoys it anyway. ]

Sure! And we can pick more up if the others need something for their rooms, too. Does the kitchen need any extra shelves as well?

[ She reaches for her travel cloak, and Hootle whistles before gliding down to her arm - he's coming too, of course! ]

[ The kitchen is not where he's given thought to—Rinwell might be experiencing her first room, but Geralt's experiencing his first...permanent place (home) altogether. Kaer Morhen is different. He didn't choose it, he didn't arrange anything in it. Only when she mentions it now does he realizes he has a kitchen to set up now, if he wants. ]

We'll see.

[ He waits for her and Hootle to come along. He decides not to note that the carpenter is the same one he stopped by for wood to build the gryphon's bed. Look—if it hasn't got a bed, it'll make a mess in the house. That's the only reason he's building one.

In any case.

It's been awhile since he's spent some time with Rinwell. He hasn't meant to remain in the city for the rest of the month—just worked out that way—but it does make him think, perhaps he should find time to do so more often. He enjoys the company he has here. He's simply...used to wandering. Working.

The market square is crowded, as always. The scent of warm bread and cooking meat fills the air. He stays close as they weave through the bodies towards where the carpenter sits: a weathered man with a scraggly beard and small wood carvings laid out on his table, alongside sanded planks of wood of varying sizes. ]

[ Being in the previous apartment so much gave Rinwell time to appreciate the need for space, and the art of packing things into smaller spaces, especially when it came to storing food and various plates and assorted items. That they have a bigger one - for a given value of "bigger" - is exciting! (Plus more space for icecream in the bigger cold box is never a bad thing!)

It's not often she gets to spend much time in Geralt's company, and even before moving, she'd been far more likely to be hanging out with Ciri than the other adults in the house. But he's never assumed her less than competent due to her age ever since they met during Eifstide, and Rinwell tries to live up to that.

But it's still nice, to take time and share in his company when he chooses to share it. Geralt leads the way, and Rinwell follows at his heels, Hootle sometimes hovering after her and sometimes perching on his human instead. She stays close, but not too close; she's gotten to know quite a few of the locals, including the street kids, and feels pretty confident in her ability to avoid trouble, but the Cyslodian-taught wariness of those around her has never truly faded.

She's not familiar with the carpenter, however. As they approach, she perks up a little, looking at the various carvings on the table, curious as to what he has on offer. ]

[ Buying raw supplies is rare for him. Up in the Blue Mountains, they chop their own wood—forage for what they need. Deserts are less plentiful, though, so the city provides.

He waits for Rinwell to join him, glancing over his shoulder as the owl flutters atop her head. There's plenty alongside the carvings—wooden bowls and mugs and spoons—but Geralt is interested in the flat wood that can serve as shelving. Unpolished, but that's not important. He can take care of that. ]

What do you think? [ He pulls forward a thick length of dark oak. Enough for two shelves with a bit extra that he thinks he can mount higher up. ] Room for your bird.

[ The bowls, the spoons and forks, the assorted bits and bobs get a polite look of interest, though it's clear whatever Rinwell hoped to see isn't present. So turning her attention instead to Geralt is quick and easy, and both girl and bird perk up at the materials he's perusing. ]

Ooo. That'd match the beams already there very well. What do you think, Hootle?

'Fuufuufu!'

[ Consider that enthusiastic consent!

Small fingers reach over to touch the wood, following the grain, before she looks over to the other options on display. There are some thicker boards, some thinner, others a lighter brown. But attention turns back to the dark oak again. ]

This one. For sure. How much do you think we'll need?

[ To this day, Geralt can't tell if Hootle was always meant to be that intelligent or if it's because it's indirectly connected to Rinwell, having technically formed out of her magic. He swears it...looks at him. Sometimes. With more than a typical owl's gaze.

The bird seems as satisfied as Rinwell with the selection. He hums. ]

Three will do. [ He use what's left over in the kitchen for Jaskier's plants. Is he slowly planning a series of work on their new rented home? He may be. He doesn't want to talk about it. A lot's happened. The only thing he wants to do in response is work or fix what he can, and at the moment, he hasn't got work. Nothing that he finds worth sending him back out into the desert for another week or two, in any case.

He did catch her eyeing the man's wares, though, as if she may have been searching for something. There's some curiosity as he turns to her. ] Something else?

Edited 2022-03-18 22:46 (UTC)

[ How much is Rinwell's memory of Hootle and how much is the magic involved in constructing such a familiar likely has far more overlap than the girl is aware of - all she knew was how much she missed her beloved bird, and then one day he was returned to her.

Or at least, a version of him. She's not going to look a gift owl in the beak here.

He's a happy bundle of feathers, and Geralt has all the approval he needs on that score. His question however gets a blink from Rinwell, followed by a sheepish glance back to the table. ]

Ah, no, I was...just looking. I thought maybe I might see something to remind me of.. [she trails off a moment, then shakes her head] It's not important.

[ It's Fine. Don't worry about it. ]

But if we need more bowls for the house, especially now there's more room for guests, should we get them now or later?

[ Hm. She gets a look—appraising, still questioning—but as is typical for him, he asks no further. He pauses over the matter of bowls: a real pause that suggests he didn't expect her question, rather than his usual brief silence. The idea that he may have guests to take into consideration had not occurred to him.

She isn't wrong. There are, in fact, people they know in Cadens. Who may visit. (Is this what happens when you settle in a place for longer than a few days at a time?) ]

Later. Jaskier could use an excuse to spend his coin. [ Newly earned from both his flowers and his performances. Now that the bard's emerged from his...solitude, at last, he thinks Jaskier might do well with Rinwell's company. Also because all the bowls look the same to Geralt.

He haggles for a better price before setting down the money he owes, then tucks the wood under his arm. ]

Ever built anything before?

[ They're making a home now, again, but there's a permanence that the little apartment they'd all squeezed in prior hadn't had. It's a place she can return to, is welcome to do so, and will be safe. It isn't like the hideouts in Cysloden, where backs remained against the wall even when resting amongst those who could be loosely considered allies, and even more vaguely a friend.

But there are no butterflies. No wolves. No swords or lions or birds, or roses with their thorns. All motifs she'll have time to tell him about later, if he'd be willing to listen. ]

I think he'll enjoy doing that. [whether they like the results remains to be seen!] I'll make sure to ask when we get back.

[ She pays close and eager attention to the haggling. There was never much in the way of lower prices on Dahna, and she'd stuck to Ciri's side when the older girl dickered with the market men in the other city. Once the wood is procured, she nods politely to the seller, before trotting at Geralt's side. ]

No. Not really. There'd never been much need to, back home. Where I was from, anyway.

[ Right. Last time they spoke, he remembers what she told him about her home and the Renans. ]

Where I grew up, place was a shithole. Still is. Can't take five steps without something that's falling apart. [ A note of warmth suggests he's fond of his home, despite its state. Worse off now, after everything, but—it's survived more than that, too. ] If we weren't training, we were rebuilding.

[ He's said little about his childhood—realizes that Rinwell has actually never seen his domain. He's never seen hers, either. The notion simply didn't cross his mind when they occupied the same house, and for all that he's fond of the girl, she's the private sort, too. Someone who's learned to be on her own from a young age. He's tried not to intrude much upon her.

Maybe sometime, he'll ask to come by hers. There's a lot he still doesn't know about her, even if he's slowly piecing things together. ]

[ She's gotten a lot more used to swearing since living in the Witcher Apartment (well, house, now, technically, when you consider the size of their upgrade.) Sometimes though she still looks slightly startled, which is perhaps hilarious given what she's lived through up until now.

(Them JRPGs only get so many swears to use, mind you.)

But she gets it, knows exactly what he means, especially with the fondness in his voice, and she bobs her head quickly. ]

We only had so many locations to rest, and you couldn't always trust they'd stay unfound, or safe. But we made do. [whether she means her family, or the resistance, or even the friends she made later? well, perhaps she'll tell Geralt eventually. She's started opening up, slowly but surely.] Was it a big place? And were there many of you training?

[ One day, they'll get Rinwell to join in on the cursing. In the meantime, the concept of watching his language is simply not one that ever occurs to Geralt. The children of Solvunn discovered that well, most likely to the elders' chagrin. ]

Big. [ Empty. The halls echo. Fewer and fewer each winter. ] Not many of us left, though.

[ He understands what she means, too. Outside of the winter months, he moved from place to place. If he even had a place. More often than not, he slept in the woods. There's a reason he hasn't bothered to get a bed even in their larger home. It's an unneeded expense, and beyond that—

Some part of him isn't sure, what it might mean for him to set down a bed that's his. Permanent. In a home that he has. A home he does not return to only for a few months of the year but that's simply available. Here. It's almost easier to think of it as a place he's made for the others: Jaskier, Ciri, Rinwell. It's why everything he's fixing up, adding to the home, it's for them and nothing of his.

They reach it soon enough, speaking of. He pushes open the door, waiting for her to enter first. ]

[ The day she does, there will be loud gasps, and much back patting, no doubt. Until then, however, she'll be sure to let them know if they've said something she doesn't like. ]

Oh. [big places, bigger because they've grown empty. What homes she'd had growing up had never been big (they'd been lucky to be small, in fact) but a part of her can almost imagine it.] That has to be hard.

[ The new apartment's location will take a little getting used to. Rinwell almost turns off the path back towards their old place out of habit part way along, and has to quicken her steps to catch up again. It's not a bad place, though. A far better place to lay low than she'd ever had on Dahna.

Once through the door, she holds it open in turn for Geralt; easier for carrying in the wood. ]

Where are the tools kept here?

[ She can fetch them! ]

Mm. [ The sound is not dismissive, just acceptance. ] It's been a long time.

[ He slows a little for Rinwell to catch up when she veers off path, before continuing onward. She reminds him, in more than a few ways, of a Ciri he feels as though he knew only yesterday but who is in reality from years ago now in this world. It isn't the whole reason he's grown fond of Rinwell nor even the main one, but. There's something to it, too.

The door opens, and he slips through. ] By the— [ he shuffles the wood. ] —cabinet window.

[ She'll find tools rolled up in a leather pouch, a few of which he borrowed from Jaskier's necromancer paramour. Geralt sets the wood down on the floor, an empty space by the hearth they now have. He has little by way of true artisan skills, but he knows enough carpentry to nail some rectangles of wood to a wall and make sure it holds. He figures Rinwell may as well learn while she's here, too, and it's clear he's waiting for her to return before he begins. ]

[ CLOSED ] through open passageways

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