abraxaslogs | March Catchall

Entry tags:

March Catchall

Who: Nadine + Various CR
When: All Through March
What: Depression Times, Exploring Cadens, Horizon Stuff
Where: Cadens, Horizon

[Starters will be added in comments for various things throughout the month, hit me up if you'd like to plan something specific!]

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[The relief of being settled in Cadens had been short lived. The new month kicked off initially promising...and then devastating. It had been apparent to Nadine immediately, a certain feeling. Nothing preternatural, just that oddly empty feeling to the bedroom combined with the obvious clues. Lloyd's shoes still by the door, his side of the bed cold, the apartment door's inside latch still locked.

It had happened again.

She managed to hold herself in some state of composure long enough to tell Julie, not blaming the other woman for retreating from the conversation the way she had. Nadine would have done anything not to have that discussion with Julie in the first place. She let her go, there was nothing to be said to ease the pain. No words Nadine could offer would make any difference. Some things were just too big, too terrible. And for once, Nadine just doesn't have it in her to offer comfort to someone else. The well is dried. She can't even handle her own grief. Lloyd has been the only constant in this world since she got here, always there, quietly and sometimes clumsily but always earnestly offering his support and devotion. She'd promised him....

Instead of letting herself feel, or think about the enormity of this most recent loss, she throws herself into working with a manic sort of determination. She can't settle her mind enough to retreat the Horizon and she can't bear the weight of it. There's no space to think or mourn when the mind is filled with measurements and ingredient lists and careful timing. She lets the work consume her, focusing her mind solely on whatever step she's involved in and not allowing anything else in. The scent of herbs and spices and odder things fills the apartment, along with the sounds of chopping and stirring and boiling and crushing. All sense of time is lost as the kitchen counters fill with vials and bottles and little pots of medicinals. Sleep isn't given any consideration, nor meals. The coming of night is barely noted, only so much as to realize candles need lighting.

Come morning, Nadine's hands shake as she sorts through dried herbs and flowers, and her shift is stained and dirtied with oils and juice and resin, unaware of just how much time has passed or how hard she's pushing herself.

It's better than feeling, or facing the cold dark chasm of grief that's waiting for her when this protective mania finally breaks.]

[It isn't that Jaskier has any penchant for prophecy himself, but he's always had the sense if things are good -- and despite the ending to the Summit, and what it could mean, things still felt relatively good -- that they will not last for long. There is always some new crisis, a new loss.

He simply hadn't expected it so soon.

The bard has been busy himself with his plans to help Alucard with the city hall: growing some plants in what soil is outside for a bit of greenery, helping measure and bring new supplies over. And Jaskier himself has been eeking out roots to find other musicians willing to join him on the stage. If he is settling down, he has the space to share.

But it is when he approaches Nadine and Julie's (and Lloyd's?) apartment that he feels some sort of... it's a bit like seeing a grey cloud on the horizon before a storm. He knocks on the door, hand wringing around the bundle of herbs he's tied up together for Nadine, and a few packets of tea he brought for Julie (he has no idea if she even drinks tea, but he's also staying away from wine for now.) There's sounds of life inside, but no immediate answer.]

Helloooo? Don't leave me on the doorstep! If it helps, I brought goodies. Otherwise, I'm sure to freeze out here if I remain much longer.

[Hah. Desert joke.]

[It takes a few minutes for the sound to register. Nadine pauses, tensing, eyes flicking to the door. God, now is not a good time. She doesn't want to be pulled out of her state of busied numbness. She can't take anymore, she can't bear the weight of it all any longer. Blow after blow has come and she's held herself up, she's steeled herself, but she just isn't that strong.

But it's Jaskier. He won't go away. And he'll worry if she doesn't respond in some way. That will lead to other people worrying and she can't deal with that, either.

Rubbing her tired eyes, Nadine shoves herself off of her chair and sets aside her mortar and pestle. She's barefoot, still wearing the same shift she'd gone to bed in...whenever she'd last gone to bed. Her hair's unbrushed and sloppily pulled back. Even her horns look duller than usual when she opens the door a little bit. The heavy smell of herbs and boiled concoctions wafts out.]

It's...it's not a good time, Jaskier.

[Whoa. Whew. Someone's been working. The smell strikes him first, and then immediately after, perhaps with more force, is Nadine's state of... being. She's never been one to fancy up, but this is --

Is that meant to get him to fuck off?]

Something's happened. [Unfortunately, it's very much the opposite reaction she probably wants. He steps around her, inside, placing the bundle of herbs down on the table and turning to her.

It's not her fault. It's not that it's her, really, either. But he knows what he turned into when something happened to him. He cannot allow it to repeat. If Ciri hadn't come home in that moment --] I'm not going anywhere. You don't need to talk about it, but I'm staying. What would you like? How about tea? We can start with a bit of tea. Perhaps you can show me what you've been crafting.

[She should have realized. But Nadine's exhausted and not thinking clearly, and hadn't considered that of course Jaskier wouldn't just turn around and leave.

It's clear she has been hard at work. The counters are currently occupied by dozens upon dozens of bottles and jars, herbs and flower petals and other little things are spilled in small amounts. There's something in a pot is cooling on the stovetop.]

I'd like to be alone, but apparently that's not an option.

[She rubs the heels of her palms against her eyes, the struggle to keep herself under control returning now that her frenzy of potion making has been interrupted.

It's not the only thing that comes rushing back. A dizziness comes over her and she sits, very suddenly, hand on the edge of the counter.]

Look, I...I appreciate your concern. But, uh, I can't. I just can't. I...uh...I hit the wall, and I really just need to not feel anything right now. I just...

[Oh god, it's hard to try and put thoughts into words right now. She probably sounds like a crazy woman. Likely looks like one, too.]

Lloyd's gone.

[Her voice wavers as she says it for the second time since it's happened. He's gone. She'd promised him a new life, a new start, a real chance...but now he's gone and her stomach twists unpleasantly and she has to crush her fist against her mouth to stop the sob that threatens.]

[ It's a bit of time afterwards that Geralt appears at Nadine's apartment—in part, because he isn't even in Cadens until then and couldn't find her in the Horizon, and in part because between those who are in Cadens, who've doubtlessly looked in on her, he imagines she isn't searching for yet another visitor lining up. Throughout the time he's come to know her, she's been as private as he is.

The smell of herbs permeates even through her door. He's only been told Lloyd is gone; vanished, like so many of the others. They've been through it before, each of them, in one way or another. To varying degrees. But it makes it no less easy. Especially not when Nadine and Julie have only barely settled in the city.

He'd had the brief thought of bringing her supplies or something she may need—a reason to not appear empty-handed. In the end, he decided against it. Frankly, that's all it would be: an excuse to show up, when he'd have done so either way. He doesn't want her to feel as though she needs to let him in if she'd rather not, and he's never been one to bother with excuses and reasons to mask his true purpose.

So it's only him, without any offerings, when he knocks on her door. ] Nadine. It's me.

[By the time Geralt checks in, Nadine is doing...better. Not good, but better. She's bathed and slept some, the fugue - and emotional floodgates - finally breaking. Mostly she feels exhausted, on every level. She's organizing all the concoctions she's made when she hears the knock.

After a moment's hesitation, she opens the door. There's dark hollows under her eyes and a certain listlessness to her, but she's probably through the worst of it. Geralt is...safe. Even in a vulnerable state, there isn't the fierce need to shield him from her worse states of mind.]

Hey.

[She moves out of the doorway to let him inside. There's wooden boxes filled and partially filled with bottles and jars, and more bottles and jars on the counter and tabletop.]

[ He gives it a minute or two, patient as he waits. He can hear her inside, can see the light underneath the door, but if she ignores him, he won't hold it against her.

The door opens, though. She peers out, looking like shit but like she's getting by, too. Surviving. It's a look he's familiar with.

He steps inside. Scans the layers of jars and bottles. It's. There are a lot of jars, though he isn't judging. He's pushed himself through contracts, too, ever since the summit. He merely does so alone, where no one can see him.

He finds a sliver of free space on the counter to lean against. His brows are lightly furrowed as he studies her. He wants to ask how she's doing, but in light of the exhaustion that weighs on her, it seems a fucking pointless question.

He asks instead what she had offered him, when she'd find him in the Horizon with that mess in the keep. ] Interested in some help to put those away?

Uh...sure. It doesn't matter what goes where right now.

[She's not bothering with that much organization. But at least she has plenty to show her skills, and to sell. Her own stock is well filled at the moment.

She returns to her packing of potions easily, well into the rhythm of it now. It's busywork, but soothing in its way.]

I'm assuming you know what's happened. I don't really want to talk about it. Which...I guess goes without saying.

[Geralt knows she's not one to talk about things much. And she's gone through that part of the process already.]

[ Packing jars and vials, he can do. He starts to place them in a nearby tray. They end up semi-organized in their own way, when he instinctively lines them up by type—habit from when he puts away his own stash. ]

I know. [ He's not one to talk much of anything, either, or make others do so. He came to see her because she travelled to Cadens in part to not be so isolated, miles across the continent. He doesn't want to leave her inside her new home alone when he can be here now. ] There's no need.

[ Last time he was trapped healing at Sam's place, unable to hunt, Sam found himself with the sharpest kitchen knives this side of Cadens. He understands busy work. Doesn't mind the silence, either, so he lets it be whether she decides to talk about something else or not. He'll listen if she does. Otherwise, there's just the gentle clink of glass in her little home.

Eventually, though, he holds up a jar of something he hasn't seen before. ] This is new.

[Nadine nods, grateful that Geralt is the way he is. There are times when she does long for someone to press her, to urge her to open up...but those times are very few, and this isn't one of them.]

You've checked in on Julie already?

[She wants to be sure, because Julie's struggling even worse than she is. As hard as Nadine is taking this, as difficult as it is, she thinks there's a certain capacity for coldness within her that Julie has been spared. That lack of meaningful connections in childhood, it's left a hardness - only a brittle shell, maybe, but a hardness all the same. Day by day, it's easier to bury the pain beneath that shell.

Maybe the pain is just the price for finally letting people in.

Geralt offers a brief distraction, though.]

That? Oh, it's for heat sickness. Not something I needed to worry about having on hand before.

I went into the Horizon. After I heard.

[ He found Julie, but not Nadine—which isn't hard to guess why, now that he's seen her brewing away in a frenzy. Geralt adds nothing else. Nadine and Julie are close, but grief is a private thing. It feels not his place to discuss it. He assumes if Julie wants Nadine to know details, she will tell Nadine herself.

It's a heavy price. There was a time he told himself it wasn't worth it. But he's learned shutting everyone out brings a different sort of loss and pain. Constant, chipping at you every day. It's easier, but it isn't better. Doesn't hurt any less.

He sets the jar down upon her explanation. Not a bad idea. Warmer months are around the corner. He isn't looking forward to it. Especially now that—

That there will be several summers to look ahead to, here.

He shuffles a few bottles. ] We're relocating. Some place less...temporary. Decided it was time, if we're to settle.

[ Has it been mentioned to her? He's told a few people, and it isn't meant to be a secret. But if not, then. Here it is. Stated with his typical lack of any emphasis or clarification. ]

[Nadine nods.]

Good.

[She doesn't need the details, she knows how Julie's handling this. She only hopes Geralt was able to offer some sort of solace or comfort.

At his news, she glances over. And nods again. More permanent lodgings. She'd agree there's little more they can do but try and settle, but the way he says it... There's something more than the implication that the planned settling is 'for now'.]

Oh? How settled are we talking about?

Mmmm... no, it's not an option. Not right now.

[He's about to go poking around for the necessary tea-associated items (which he does, rightfully, assume everyone has), only to pause and catch her by the arm, having see her waver in the corner of his eye.

Right. She looks like she's doing wonderful on her own. And it isn't with judgement. He knows exactly how he was, too.]

You don't have to do anything. [His voice is soft, an attempt to sound reasonable. Because to him, no, she does not sound crazy. Not even half-crazed. She sounds like someone in mourning.

And then he knows why.]

Oh. Oh, my dear. I'm so sorry.

[He's only met him on the sidelines, and Jaskier only found him to be a funny little man, but he was their funny little man and with Estinien gone, he understands. Fully. That grip in the hollow of a stomach. How every muscle coils until it may snap. And, for him, how he felt it was somehow his fault, even though he knows much better.

He wraps his arms around her, pulling her in.] You needn't hold it in. I've always thought it hurts worse that way.

No...I don't...

[It's automatic, said without thinking, and Nadine isn't even entirely sure what she's protesting. The physical contact or the urging to let go of her emotions. Both aren't things that she's used to, or entirely comfortable with. Pain has always been a personal thing, something kept to herself. There was so little comfort ever offered in her childhood and then...

Somewhere along the line, showing or trying to share grief or sorrow became equated to showing weakness. Vulnerability brought scorn, not comfort. There's a hardness in her, carefully cultivated and nurtured over a lonely life with only the magic man in her head to rely on. No one, as far as she can remember, has ever held her while she hurt. It's immediate, to try and reject it all.

But god help her, she's tired. And that hardness isn't so solid as not to crack. Lloyd was family. It had taken till now for Nadine to have that, found here in the form of a strange little triad stolen from a dying world. Lloyd and Julie both had been strangers but now they are...were...the people held closest to her heart.

A shudder goes through her and she sinks into Jaskier, too tired to fight against herself any longer.]

I promised him...

[The rest of her words are swallowed by a ragged sob.]

[ How settled. ] The Continent isn't safe anymore.

[ For whom, he does not say, but there's only ever been one person Geralt has prioritized above all else since they've found each other. Since he found her then and here both. Besides, what's there for him? It has never wanted him, his world. He's not meant to belong there. He never was. It's only ever been a place he learned to exist in because there was nowhere else. It's where the people he cares about were, and now almost all of them are here. All of them except...the other Witchers.

But they will not be long for any world, either. Their fate has always been to vanish from the Continent. Even if he were to return, winter by winter, he'll watch them all be taken until there's no one left.

He passes her one of the bottles. Their presence can't make up for what she's lost. But it is meant to let her know they at least don't intend to leave her or Julie. Not if they can help it. ] You're stuck with us. Sorry.

A - Out and About

[After spending a good two weeks or so barely leaving the rooms she and Julie share, Nadine had finally dragged herself together. Thanks to having plenty of samples of her work as well as knowing someone connected, finding a job with an apothecary had been easy enough. Easier still, to her surprise, had been signing up to begin attending classes at the Academy of Medicine. Within half an hour she'd put her name down on an official roster and been given a list of things she needed.

So here she is, a tired looking white haired woman in layered white skirts and a practical brown leather vest, satchel already bulging with books, paper from the academy in hand. Mostly she's in and out of bookstores, asking the proprietors for specific volumes, great thick things with titles like 'Florinda Stone's Compendium of Common Ailments' and 'An Introduction to Natural Medicinals of the Low Desert'. She's beginning to think she should have brought along two satchels, at the rate the books are piling up.

Unsurprisingly, halfway through her academic shopping, she stops at one of the cafes that dot Cadens, opting for a table outside to rest her feet and shoulders from lugging around all her school supplies. She'd forgotten how many books there always were. But it's nice, she supposes, to sit outside and enjoy a drink and pretend things are normal for a small while.

Of course it's not only books she needs, there are supplies. Some of which she understands, some of which she...does not. And isn't sure where to find. At a loss, she approaches anyone who's eye she can catch.]

Uh...you wouldn't happen to know where to get a 'capital saw'? Or what that is...I'm a student.

[Probably best to mention that immediately, all things considered.]

B - Eclipse

[Nadine is heading back to the apartment from work when it happens. She's seen eclipses before, but none quite like this. The locals don't seem too bothered, beyond practically over the sudden lack of light. But there's no panicking, no alarms being rung.

At least Cadens seems to love it's man-made light, so she imagines this isn't a disaster. But it's jarring to say the least. Luckily, the most recent spell Nadine's been learning is a small ball of illumination. It takes her a few tries - and a few softly muttered mild curses - to get it to hold, but she manages. The little glowing ball of light drifts above her head a few inches and stays there, floating just over her.

Now she has to figure out how to get home. Everything looks different in the dark, and she isn't familiar enough with Cadens to know the way without thinking about it. She's still navigating by familiar landmarks.

Well, if worst comes to worst, she knows who to contact for help. With a sigh, she sets off cautiously in what she hopes is the right direction.]

C-Wildcard

[Hit me up for anything else, or feel free to toss up any Cadens-related starters in response!]

[Nadine takes the bottle with a hard to read look. She's watching him closely, though, eyes searching his face. The weight of what he's saying isn't lost on her, and she offers another nod.

She isn't quite sure what else to say. Like Julie, she has no interest in returning home. That world and that life...she knows she can't go back to them. Whatever life she can find here, that's it - though she knows ultimately, it's out of her hands. But isn't it always? She could just as easily be run down by a cart in the road or choke on a piece of dinner. Very few things in life are certain.

As far as she knows, Geralt and his people have lives to return to. Hard lives, in some cases, but still. This isn't something she would have expected.]

You're choosing to stay here.

[As though they have a choice. But she understands. There's a difference between accepting a situation and embracing it. Between making do and making a life. Their own home must be more than just 'dangerous', but she isn't going to ask for the details.]

That's...nothing you need to apologize for. I...I can't imagine that was an easy decision.

[ Something of a choice. A decision to not search for a way back, for Ciri to stop worrying that there's more she can do to unlock her powers. He can't risk it. Not her, not the effect it may have if her magic ever interacts with the Singularity to that degree. Even smaller spells have gone awry.

His expression softens. It was a bit of a joke, his remark, but Nadine's sincerity is not unappreciated. ]

We can't rebuild if we're looking back.

[ And he is building something here. It isn't what he had, it isn't what he'd have imagined a year ago. It's full of fucking complications he's yet to resolve. But it's his. It has the people who matter to him in it.

In the end, that's what makes a home for him. Where they are, where they need to be, that's the place he'll stay. ]

Isn't that the truth.

[Nadine sighs, raking back a loose bit of her hair. It's starting to get too long, she doesn't think she's bothered getting it cut since she came here. She sits, finding herself needing a break.

But what Geralt says resonates with her. She's thought about the same thing, herself. Building a life here. There's always that lingering possibility that Flagg could return, but even so...what is she supposed to do? She already spent a lifetime waiting around for him. She'd filled her part of whatever bargain had been struck on their behalf. While she knows she'll never be truly free of the past and that life, she's at least more free than she's ever been. There's potential and possibilities that hadn't been open to her before. In every aspect of her life. She has a family here, small as it's become, and friends, and...whatever the hell Jaskier is. She has magic for god's sake. Real magic that's her own, aside from whatever Flagg may or may not have left her with. The possibilities are myriad.

But losing Lloyd has cast a pall over the thought. It will clear, she's sure of that, but it's still hard to think about it now.]

It's...hard, though. Not looking back. Uh, there's a pitcher of fruit juice in the ice chest, if you want a drink. And...a pitcher of wine, if you want a real drink.

[ He finishes putting away the section of jars he's working on. Then he stops, palms on the table. Lets her sort through her thoughts as she sits. He didn't come here to have her talk about what happened, but he won't mind, either, if that's where they end up. If there's something she wants to get off her chest.

Only when she mentions a drink does he look up. Oh. Mm. He digs out the wine without hesitation. They're in need of a real drink. ]

Well-worn paths are easier. [ He passes her a cup and sits beside her. ] Even the darkest ones.

[ There's comfort in it—that familiar sort of pain. When you know it's waiting for you, how it feels. It's tempting to stay in it and tell yourself there isn't better for you. He's spent his fair share doing exactly that. But he's learned, perhaps, the difference between living and existing. ]

Yeah. They are.

[Nadine takes the drink with a grateful nod. Normally she shies away from drinking in the real world, but...a little wine isn't going to hurt.]

I spent my whole life knowing what my path was, it's still hard sometimes. I still find myself living by rules that don't really apply anymore. Even though...God, one of the last conversations Lloyd and I ever had was me trying to convince him that he can just live his life for himself now. He...uh...he really struggled, without having direct guidance.

[It's the most polite way she can think to express that Lloyd had been a man who needed someone to follow. To tell him what to do and make choices. He'd been young, though, there had been time for him to learn to stand on his own...only there wasn't, not really. It feels like a cruel joke.]

It's just hard to think about building a life when there's that little voice that keeps saying it probably doesn't matter anyway. Randall could come back, I could vanish, everyone in my life could just vanish tomorrow...I am getting so sick of losing people.

[He catches her weight, as she lends it to him, pressed to her. Holding. It's all he's sure to do, sure she may need it, some reason to allow this release. His arms squeeze around her.

His own chest hurts. He has to breathe deliberately, slowly, because he might give in, too. And he's had his time for Estinien. It was all he could do.

She doesn't need to finish the sentence.]

I know you've done absolutely everything you can. [After all, had she not helped travel here, all this way, with Julie and Lloyd? Together, only the three of them, across nearly the entirety of this land, with only money and willpower? His head tucks against her, her cry finally breaking through.] And I will remain here to remind you.

[It may not mean anything now, but he hopes... in the future, as she survives, that it will. That she will believe it, too. Because he cannot fathom if she could have saved him, that she would not have.]

[ As little as he knew Lloyd, Lloyd was also not a difficult man to know. Guidance is not a bad way to put it. Nadine had looked after him. He could tell, from the way they interacted. It's a hard thing, to lose someone you especially felt responsible for.

For a moment, he's silent. He isn't certain how much Julie may have told Nadine about what they discussed of Flagg. Of what he is. There's a furrow to his brows when she says his name, but he leaves it be for now. ]

When we leave Kaer Morhen, we call it the Path. We don't know what waits on it. It isn't the most forgiving. But the more we travel it, the more we make it ours. [ He leans forward, arms on his knees. ] You're surviving in this world. You came to Cadens. Learned magic. You already have your path, Nadine. You've been making it.

[ There was a time he tried to leave things behind. It's never quite worked. In the end, he's only ever been able to move forward when he started to carry it with him, all that lies in his past, however painful. And he thinks, she might find the same holds true for her. ]

[It feels vaguely wrong, to let herself cry on someone like this. Even Jaskier. Nadine knows how stupid that is - how many times has she been the shoulder cried on? She isn't so special. Her pain, her grief, aren't special. Loss isn't special. The opposite, really, loss and death are among the only things that are a universal experience.

But old habits die hard. Still. She only tries to quiet her weeping, not hold it in entirely. It's already begun, the damn can't be put back together so easily and quickly. ]

I just...

[What is she even trying to say? Words are scattered and difficult. Jaskier's being so kind, shouldering the weight of her distress. Offering comfort. Something in that feels wrong, too, but maybe not as wrong as it used to. Why does he care about her like this? Not that she's going to let go, as uncomfortable as she usually is with being vulnerable like this, she's desperate for the comfort.]

I really don't deserve you.

[There's no strength to the words, no bite. She's not trying to be self deprecative, she's not going to push him away, but she doesn't deserve him. He's good and earnest and true, and she is damned. She knows full well that out of the little band she'd come to Cadens with, her hands are the most stained. She's the most far gone, possibly too far. And Jaskier knows, she may have prettied up the framing but she's told him who she is.

And still he's here, holding her while she weeps, sharing her grief over a man he'd barely known. In the moment it only makes her sob harder, clutching at him and burying her face in his chest.]

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March Catchall

Cadens Apartment - Closed to CR

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Exploring Cadens + Eclipse - Open

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