[ If Dean were to ever mention it, they could compare notes on how they divide up the eras of their lives. Before and after. Geralt can't even say it was born after too many decades on the earth. He's been doing it since the day he found himself at a frozen stone fortress buried in the rocks—and any moment that occurred before then almost doesn't feel a part of his life. Not truly. Memories of someone he once knew, perhaps.
He lets Dean's celebration draw him out of his thoughts. There's a quiet huff. ] I've had more chances to learn from my mistakes.
[ He is fucking good at what he does. He's also got the scars from all the moments that brought him to where he is. A combination of long years and his inherent durability.
His knife buries itself in between two others, with a faint metallic ring where it barely grazes the blade beside it. What's left of his beer is emptied before he moves onto the whisky: a sign that he's steadily giving up on what little semblance remained that this competition isn't just an excuse to drink.
Besides, he's still too sober after this many daggers stuck to the board. They'll run out of room if he only drinks according to the rules. ]
no subject
He lets Dean's celebration draw him out of his thoughts. There's a quiet huff. ] I've had more chances to learn from my mistakes.
[ He is fucking good at what he does. He's also got the scars from all the moments that brought him to where he is. A combination of long years and his inherent durability.
His knife buries itself in between two others, with a faint metallic ring where it barely grazes the blade beside it. What's left of his beer is emptied before he moves onto the whisky: a sign that he's steadily giving up on what little semblance remained that this competition isn't just an excuse to drink.
Besides, he's still too sober after this many daggers stuck to the board. They'll run out of room if he only drinks according to the rules. ]