[ CLOSED ] sunrise come

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: May (+ a bit of late April post-event)
Where: Cadens; Horizon; Desert Times
What: Local man finds a thing deep in the badlands, is sad about his other daughter, collects owls
Warnings: Adding as we go



(( starters in the comments below. find me at discontinued or at Noa#1979 to plot stuff! ))

Comments

ciri. (april 27)

[gynvael]

[ It is not uncommon for Rinwell to come and go. She's young, but she takes care of herself. Geralt does not so much keep an eye on her as he simply makes sure she has a place to return to when night approaches. A bed, a meal, a drink. She is almost always home by nightfall. She always answers him when he sends her a message.

This time, she does not.

Something heavy grows in his chest. Begins to sink. The memories are still flooding them. He gives it a day or so. Tells himself, perhaps, Rinwell has hidden from it. He risks going into the Horizon one last time to look for her—is struck with memories anew—and when it's over, her bed remains empty. Her horse is untouched. He cannot find any trace of Hootle.

He knows. He's known from the start, he supposes. What is he to tell Ciri? It isn't the first time someone has vanished, but Rinwell is—she was his. Theirs. He took her in and never looked back. She's lived with them since she first arrived in Cadens, moved homes with them. He showed her how to take care of the horses; Ciri taught her to ride. She delivered flowers for Jaskier and filled shelves in the house with books.

In the end, he does what he always does: start to quietly pick up the pieces. He looks for Ciri first. She's disappeared into the desert, for which he doesn't blame her. Not after all this shit with their memories. She isn't difficult to track. He's learned where she likes to ride, where she prefers to watch the sun. He climbs atop one of the cliffs overlooking the city. Finds a flash of ashen hair and the gleam of her sword nearby.

Silently, Geralt joins her. ] Watching the sunrise?

[wiedzminka]

[ She hears his footsteps and turns, looking up from her breakfast. Sleep still clings to her eyes a bit, her rumpled hair and clothing, but she looks far more relaxed than the last time they'd spoken, when Ciri tersely let him know she was leaving until it was over. She's not sure where Geralt's been, if he'd done the same. Found her because he was out here too, looking for solitude until he came upon her camp and caught up to her uphill. She's not hard to spot; she isn't hiding.

Ciri offers him a smile, turning toward him when he sits but not getting closer. She doesn't know if it's safe yet, and doesn't want to risk it even with him. Especially with him. ]

Mm. Always a nice way to greet the day.

Did you miss me? [ It's teasing, mostly. A way to ask if he's here for a reason or just by chance. ]

[gynvael]

[ He's been in and out. Seeking solitude in their home, out in the desert; finding he cannot stray too far in case someone needs him. In case something comes up. It's not been an easy time, but. When has it ever?

His smile does not quite meet Ciri's. It's clear there's something wrong, wrong enough that it's visible even on his usually unreadable expression. He can't bring himself to tease her in return. ]

Wanted to see how you were. [ He keeps a small bit of distance, as well. He suspects it's over, but it's tough to say. From speaking to a few of the other Summoned, though, they've told him entering the Horizon has not brought any onslaught of memories. It might be over. He's remains cautious, though. ]

I, ah. [ Fuck. He pauses. He almost doesn't want to say it. Doesn't want to put the words out there. ] Rinwell hasn't come home for three days. She won't answer me. Her horse is in the stables.

[ If it were anyone else, he'd consider the possibility of them simply leaving or forgetting to say. Not Rinwell. She's home often, does not stray far except with company to practice her magic, takes her responsibility for the horses and Jaskier's flower stall seriously. She would not vanish without a word. And if something happened to her, he'd have seen signs of it. Heard it. There's nothing. She's simply gone. ]

viktor.

[gynvael]

[ He's been riding for two weeks when he stumbles over it: shattered bones that don't look as if they belong to a beast. He follows the trail, deeper into the dust and sand.

What he finds presents a two-fold problem: he hasn't a fucking clue what he's looking at, though he has his suspicions, and there is clearly more to it. He can feel the air through the gaps in the caved in rocks. It carries a sharp, acrid scent. And something more. Like dried blood.

He tries Aard on the rubble a few times. The rocks tremble, but do not yield. He needs something more powerful. There's a twisted steel door he thinks needs to be dislodged first. Possibly. Difficult to really tell without more at his disposal. What he does know is there's no point in pressing forward unprepared. He weighs the time it will take to return to Cadens, find someone who has a solution—if there even is one—and then ride back out. Decides perhaps there's another way.

It's nightfall when a curt message reaches Viktor: ]

I have something for you.
Horizon. At yours.

[ Then he simply arrives at the place Viktor pointed out the last time they spoke. No wolf. Just him, leaning against a wall. ]

[techmaturgy]

[This is not exactly a message he expects to get, though he can't say it's unwelcome. Viktor is naturally curious, and he knows enough about Geralt to guess that whatever this is about is either important or interesting. Probably both. Either way, the response comes fairly quickly:]

In the lab. Take the lift.

[It's not stairs! And, sure, it's the Horizon, which theoretically means people can just will themselves places, but he also gets the idea that Geralt is not comfortable with too much bending reality. The good news is that it's a quick trip, and once he steps out of the lift and into the main structure of Viktor's domain, the lab is just beyond a set of double doors.

Viktor himself appears to be willing away the remnants of his latest test run of something-or-other, as evidenced by the goggles he wears and the various burnt smudges on the floor and walls that he's in the process of vanishing. Nothing to see here.]

Something interesting, I hope.

[gynvael]

[ Concise is what Geralt has come to expect from Viktor, which is a good chunk of the reason Geralt's made an acquaintance of the man. The reply comes quickly and without a waste of words or unneeded questions.

It's not stairs. Additionally, he now knows what a lift is. A vague apprehension remains because Geralt has a natural aversion to being sealed up inside metal containers, but he's acclimating. Unlike the brown smog-filled skyline, the lab is cold grey stone, tidy. He finds Viktor through the doors at the end of the corridor—catches sight of the edges of smudges vanishing, the faint scent of burning in the air. That's not what he's here to discuss, though—not his business, what people do inside their domains—so he makes himself at home on the block attached to one of the sliding boards. What's that? It isn't a seat? It's one now.

Geralt cuts right to the point. ] I found signs of what might be a dumping ground. Human remains, almost, but the bones aren't right. There's more behind a cave-in. I need your help breaking through.

[ Without bringing the entire structure down goes unsaid. Geralt is not entirely sure if this is possible, but he does know it isn't something he's capable of doing on his own. Brute force might collapse the ceiling altogether. The opposite of what he wants. ]

nero.

[gynvael]

[ When he's working, Geralt hasn't any desire to linger long in the Horizon. He only enters as needed—if something is urgent or he wants a damn break from the hot sun. This is different. From what he's aware of the Horizon, the domains disappear if its owner is no longer present to maintain it. Swallowed up by time like so much else.

He can accept that. The natural state of things. Nothing's permanent. He wants to see it one last time, though. So he goes inside, walks to the winter town next to his mountains that make up Rinwell's space. He's visited only once or twice—she lives with them, after all. (Lived.) It's as quiet and peaceful as he remembers. Empty. Except, of course, for the dozens of owls. A multitude of patterns and colours perched on trees. The King and Queen sit nearby, peering at him unblinkingly. Rinwell introduced them to him and truthfully, it is absurd to him that Rinwell comes from a world where owls have crowns upon their head, but he's accepted these owls are unusually intelligent. As he gets up to leave, one black and white owl flaps down to land on his head. Stays there almost insistently. It feels like a suggestion. A request. And he thinks: why the fuck not?

He emerges with two owls. He intends to bring the other to Jaskier's tree. Later. For now, he returns with both, one on his shoulder and the other in his hand. They are round birds, larger than Hootle. (He needs to decide when he's home, what to do with the perch he'd built for her owl friend.)

And that is precisely how he finds a white-haired man huffing and cursing in the snowy entrance leading up to the stone fortress. Bringing back some owls. Also: what the fuck.

Geralt stops in front of the...what in the hell is that? Why is it here?

He fixes his gaze on the stranger. ] Explain.

[vengeanceinside]

[Nero is convinced Wanda's explanation back when he first got here of the Horizon was a lie. A joke. This mumbo-jumbo that he can create whatever he wants, whether it's a tree from his childhood (the most boring idea ever) or -- or whatever. It had to be bullshit.

Because what does Nero get stuck with?

A freaking phone booth. A phone booth, by the way, transplanted straight from Redgrave City, and one that does whatever it can to get away from him.]

I'm so -- tired -- [Between every few words he's attempting to pull the phone booth directly out of the ground, arms managing to reach around at least most of two of its sides,] of chasing -- your ass -- around --

[He gives it one last final heave, pulling up, backwards, ripping -- and though the ground gives a little, his arms, slick with sweat despite the snow falling, give way and have him stumbling back a step to catch himself.

Nero kicks the booth.] Would you just get going already? Actually, you know what? Stay here. Rust. You'll be coming back and begging me to put you somewhere nice and sunny --

[He lifts his head. Staring across the way is a white-haired, stony-faced, uh. Guy. Built rather similarly to a brick shithouse. Unfortunately, his voice is about as deadpan as his expression.

And he's carrying... is that a fucking owl?

No. Wait. It's two.

Explain.

Great. Seems fun at parties. Maybe clowns use owls instead of juggling balls nowadays.

Nero scoffs at him, rubbing his hands on his pants, gearing up for new attempt.] What's it look like, buddy? Sunday morning picnic? I'm trying to uproot this stupid thing. [He cracks his knuckles, already turning his attention back to the booth. Staring it down like he's gonna intimidate it into jettisoning the hell out of here.] You're welcome to stand around and keep gawking at ir if you need the new decor. Hey, you can probably use it to call the local aviary. Looks like you might need it.

[Yes, he is annoyed that anyone walked up and got to see. This.

Man. He should've just woken back up.]

[gynvael]

[ His stare only deepens. That is both no explanation at all and also implies that Geralt is the odd one out for wanting to know what the fuck this man is doing on his domain with. A box.

He shifts one owl to his other hand. It gives a deep hoot at the stranger's direction. A long pause passes as Geralt pieces together what is not being said: namely, that the man appears upset and bewildered that his...object is stuck in the snow. Which suggests he can't—move it? Of his own will? Geralt has his own struggles with the way things spawn in the Horizon, but he's never encountered anything made against his will in someone else's space.

It is tempting to tell the stranger to fuck off. But. He sighs. Whatever is going on, it clearly isn't the man's fault.

He does, however, receive a frown for prodding at Geralt's owls. They are important. He took them for a reason. He's no desire to explain them, though, nor talk about Rinwell, so he says nothing of it.

Silently, Geralt walks up to the metal and glass box. He sets the remaining owl on his other shoulder. Places both hands on the box. Pushes. It moves, scraping along in the snow. ] Where the fuck to?

dante.

[gynvael]

[ The fucking noise is absolutely what brings Geralt out from inside Kaer Morhen and into the front yard. The Horizon is usually quiet. Especially his corner of it.

Funny thing: he almost recognizes the sound. A little different, though. Not quite the same rumble of Dean's car. So what in the hell is—?

(Why is it now of all times people keep disrupting him? When he merely wanted to bring back a couple of owls, get some peace away from the sweltering sun, maybe sit in silence?)

The irritation is undeniable in his face when he peers at the man intruding. A familiar face, actually. Oh. He remembers him. From the baths. With that...drink. What is he sitting on? What is he riding?

Geralt sighs. ] What do you want?

[subhuman]

[ As much as he finds comfort in the shady interior of his shop, there's a whole world out there to explore. Of course going on a bit of a road trip means that he needs to do it in style and what could be more stylish than a motorcycle? Trick question--NOTHING! It is peak style. He may even rank it SSS.

With no real heading, Dante winds through the different domains. This foresty one is both kind of neat and a little ominous. He's pretty sure he may have seen a wolf somewhere in the distance so points for realism to whoever made this. Really committing to the mountain vibes. Are there bears too, he wonders? Really any woods without demons lurking in them are preferable.

It's the big stone structure that Dante slows down in front of though. ]

Huh.

[ He pulls to a stop but leaves the bike on to rumble as it wants, squinting as he looks up to the largest tower.

--And there's that guy. Bath guy.

This is bath guy's tower?

Dante leans forward on his bike, resting his arms on the handlebars. ]

Just checking ominous towers for princesses. You don't have any cooped up in there, do you?

[gynvael]

[ Geralt leans his shoulder against the stone wall where the gates used to stand. It's just an open entrance now, outside of which the...machine rumbles. ]

No. She isn't in. [ Sheer deadpan means it's hard to tell if he's being serious or not. He is (Ciri's at the coast, not in the Horizon) and he isn't (Ciri hardly refers to herself as a princess any longer.)

His eyes roam over the man before he asks, ] How's your castle?

[ Thorne and all. He's curious, if only because he has few contacts in Thorne who don't want to be there—or at least don't give a fuck about matters of politics and royalty. Even Thancred is there for a purpose, playing for information, and Stephen has a vested interest in the Singularity and its magic. ]

tony.

[gynvael]

[ Geralt does not feel better, exactly, by the time he returns to Cadens at the end of the month. Rinwell's room remains empty. She's still gone. But he's here, life moves forward, and he can't sit and dwell on a loss forever. He has things to take care of—so that's where his focus lies. (It's too painful, to think about anything else.) Namely, what the fuck it is he stumbled over out in the desert.

Instinct tells him he should know better than to dig too deep. Instinct also refuses to let it go. He can't. Something in him will not let him ignore it; whatever it is he found, maybe it isn't anything, maybe it is, but he needs to know. He doesn't like it. The whole thing—it leaves him uneasy.

Viktor is first on his mind, but the truth is, he's already asked Viktor for a favour. Two, counting the mechanical birds. That leaves one Tony Stark who's been pointed out to him. A man Geralt's only glimpsed in passing in Cadens. Sam appears to trust him, though, even if Geralt does not know exactly what it is Tony does. An inventor, is what he's gathered. Inventions are not what he requires, but he supposes he can't be picky. Limited options.

He tracks Tony down the old-fashioned way, rather than bother with a message and explaining himself. That is to say, he asks about, picks up a trail shortly, and winds up at Sam's home. He does not knock. The door simply opens.

He locates Tony in the kitchen and merely. Sort of steps into view. Geralt returned from three weeks out in the desert roughly four hours ago and he looks it. The only thing he's bothered to do is put away his gear, stable his horse, find a quick meal. Where his sleeves are rolled up, there are remnants of scrapes on his arms and most of his dusty hair's come loose. A bag is slung over his shoulder. ]

I'm told you can help.

[industries]

[ Tony's about five seams deep into soldering joints to the inside of of the EXO-7R chassis when something moves in the corner of his vision, dark and obscured through the edge of Sam's spare goggles.

He frowns around the screw between his teeth. Does Wilson have a cat? He reaches to dunk his antique soldering iron (horrific) back into the hot coals of Sam's stove, then peels the goggles off his eyes and up to his forehead. He turns– ]

Jesus Christ. [ His palm slams into his chest. The screw drops from his mouth, hits the table and rolls in a semicircle. He shrivels a little in the chair as his eyes wander up, witheringly, toward the giant man in the doorway. A breeze floats through the open kitchen window. The man's unkempt white hair rustles in the wind, like it's scripted.

Tony rubs his grubby hands over his soot-lined eyes. ] I – yes, please! Come on in! [ His fingers climb up to the goggles and yank them off. He tosses them on the table, and they clink against one of the dozen half-built components laid out in front of him. He leans back in his chair, crosses his arms.

He squints. He hasn't seen someone so built since... ...well, since literally, like, a minute before he disappeared from the Avengers HQ and appeared here, but that's beside the point–

Yellow eyes. White hair. Wait, Sam mentioned some stoic monster hunter guy with, presumably, massive biceps. Guh-ralt? Gerald? ]

Okay, McLargehuge. What– [ He shakes his head, gestures. ] Help with what? Do what?

[gynvael]

[ That's. A reaction, but not one that's resulted in any threats in his direction, so he'll take it. Geralt waits with a steady patience until Tony gathers his bearings before he moves further into the room. His gaze skims over the scattering of bits and scraps on the table. Settles back on Tony. ]

Sam said to speak with you. [ Feels like a more useful introduction than his name. His name probably means little. ] I came across some unusual parts. Buried in a cave miles out from here. From the looks of it, it wasn't meant to be found.

[ He offers the bag to Tony. Inside is the skeletal remains of a hand—seemingly human and yet not. The fingers are of an odd length; the wrist bone attached elongated. A thick metal plate is screwed onto it, with a couple of bolts. Teeth marks are visible on the bone—a canine of some kind. A fox, he thinks.

Geralt gives no indication of what's inside the bag. All he adds is, ] I've never seen anything of its nature.

[ He's travelled the surrounding area for months; goes further out than most. He damn near lives in the desert half the time. New beasts crop up now and again, but there's always a sign that they belong: a nest, hunting grounds, a distinct biology that tells him they've adapted to the environment for some time. This...the metal, the bone structure. It looks made. ]

jayce.

[gynvael]

[ With Hector equally vanished, Geralt is left searching for another potential blacksmith. He has a weapon smith specializing in blades he's satisfied with, but he needs equipment other than blades. Hector had been one of theirs, too. Another Summoned, close to Jaskier. It was easier to explain if he needed something discreet, that he didn't especially want a citizen in the city to know. Hector's not here anymore. So. A new purveyor it is.

He browses the stalls, the offerings. Many of the faces are familiar. He's been in the city long enough to recognize those who've set up shop in the market square. But there is one fresh face. Tall, broad-shouldered, dark eyes.

Geralt stops, tilting his head at the man in front of him. Often, the Summoned are easy to pick out. They appear out of place, dress a bit different, style their hair different. This, though. This one's hard to tell.

Hm. He doesn't recall Lee having any recent apprentices. ] You're new.

I exist!

[hextechhead]

[ Jayce's biggest trait of standing out is the way he dresses. It's similar to Viktor in that even in the heat he seems determined to wear layers and a formal tie. His layers are light, his button-up shirt is short-sleeved now rather than to the cuffs, and the vest over it is not heavy. The tie is looped underneath it. Lee rolled her eyes and said as long as he didn't dress like that while working (of course he didn't) his odd style was fine. Some details are hard to let go of.

Otherwise he really does suit this time in appearance. He also has had a semi-easy time of picking out Summoned for the same reason. Jayce is observant, he likes people and notices details when he meets them. Like this man with his quiet confidence and directness, and he smiles easily in response to it. ]

I am. I've only been around here about a month. Jayce Talis.

[ He's found that a lot of people don't like shaking hands so he doesn't bother, although it is his instinct. Jayce salutes him instead and then flips out his personal multi-tool which looks like a simple object at first. He recently gave Ciri one of his adventurer ones, but his comes with specific tools, including multiple screwdrivers. He is working on fixing a part of the stall, it's nothing serious and needed a few bolts replaced. Easy to do and talk at the same time. ]

You seem to be looking for something in particular but haven't found it yet.

[gynvael]

[ Both the name and the tool bring a flicker of recognition to Geralt's face. Ciri had shown him her tool immediately once she received it, and then had reappeared with one for Geralt shortly after. He is less certain about it as Ciri, solely because he finds there's little a knife and some Witcher strength can't take care of, but it is useful. Also compact enough slipping it into Roach's saddlebags is no effort.

But Ciri isn't the only reason he finds the name familiar. ]

Geralt. You're Viktor's research partner. [ Admittedly, Geralt can't say he'd have guessed that this is the research partner Viktor was referring to. The man looks as though he belongs in a blacksmith's shop. He looks a bit less as though he belongs in an underground lab poring over notes.

Apt they meet, though. How much Viktor's mentioned to Jayce about the work Geralt requested from him, he isn't sure—he did ask for discretion.

Equally typical of Geralt: Jayce's last remark goes entirely unanswered. ]

thancred.

[gynvael]

[ Thancred's message arrives while he's picking through the remains of a half-eaten desert fox, bloated in the sun, ripped apart by what appears to be a powerful beak. He's been curious, a bit, if he could find signs of the bird-like wyvern creature he found a few months ago. There'd been only it and its mate; he'd killed both, but if they'd migrated, there should be others. Shouldn't there?

In any case, the message scrawls in the blood, next to the carcass. Geralt gives it a few minutes, finishing up before he answers: ]

Two hours.

[ And then he's there, as promised, in the circular open tavern Thancred had indicated. The purple leaves are familiar. Something he's seen in Himeka's domain once.

He makes his way up the steps. He remembers, of course. The images that slipped into his head unbidden. It was an innocent enough memory, soft enough, that Geralt had not found a need seek Thancred out about it. He'd had a hell of a lot else on his mind, anyway. Only now, as he slides into a seat across from the other man does the image resurface of the young girl called Ryne. It echoes more than a few things for him. Some of which he doesn't quite want to think about at the moment, when the disappearance of another mage girl is still a fresh wound. ]

You wanted to talk?

[funbreaker]

[ Geralt is brief and to the point when communicating both verbally and "mentally," for lack of a better term. Thancred doesn't mind it, as it allows them to arrange a time to meet up in his Horizon in the space of a few exchanges.

This is to speak about Fandaniel, yes, but Thancred would be lying if he were to claim that there wasn't something else to it as well. The memories he'd viewed of Geralt and a young girl, how he'd traveled with her and trained her and kept her safe — well, it had all hit rather close to home. Thancred had done the exact same with Ryne, back when she'd still been called Minfilia. He'd taken her away from her captors and taught her how to stay hidden, how to wield a pair of knives with deadly precision.

Now that the Echo-like visions have passed, he's had enough examples to pull from to gather that often there was some sort of purpose to what memories were shown to specific people. There's a good chance that Geralt saw glimpses of him and Ryne, as well.

He'll bring it up when the time seems right. They may as well start with business.

Thancred nods to Geralt as he steps up and sits across from him, a sort of mirror of their first meeting at the summit. With that in mind, he conjures up a pint of ale for himself. ] I didn't realize during our last time together in the Horizon that you were the contact Himeka had in the Free Cities.

[ Geralt strikes Thancred as quite capable, and that isn't all to do with his more-than-human endurance. He can see why Himeka immediately thought of him. ] I don't know exactly what she told you of Fandaniel, but thought it prudent to ask if you've noticed aught of concern with him in the past few moons.

[gynvael]

[ Fandaniel has, in all honesty, been a background punctuation at best. More pressing matters have been on his mind. Geralt would've said he's surprised Himeka had not told Thancred exactly who she's enlisted, but it's Himeka, so he is not in fact surprised. ]

Mm. She offered a helpful description. [ A statement spoken drier than the desert sand. Geralt opens his hands to reveal said description scrawled on some parchment. As in, he did not even quite know who to look for until Sam bumped into Fandaniel and was actually able to point him out to Geralt. As in, if Thancred came to speak to him with expectations of useful information, he should temper those expectations immediately. Not a lot to go on. ] Bit of an irritating prick, from what I'm told. That's all I've heard.

[ Between the eclipse, the Summoned vanishing one by one, memories bleeding into each other, he isn't sure if there's time for anyone to be scheming earth-shattering destruction. Fuck knows all he's been doing for the past several months is nurse one headache after another. ]

She only told me he likes to cause trouble. I didn't ask what kind. [ Geralt considers it an unnecessary detail, at this stage, but there's room for Thancred to fill him in if he truly wants. From what he understands of Himeka's world, it's likely related to another conflict of some kind. Possibly there are dragons involved again. Maybe a moogle. ]

gideon.

[gynvael]

[ He leaves Viktor's lab shortly, what he found still on his mind. At least one part of it is being resolved—breaking through that cave-in—but that leaves the other part of it, which is what the hell it all means.

He considers searching the area for another day or two, before turning home. He doesn't want to linger too long in that one place. Whatever it is, he wasn't meant to find it and while few venture that far into the desert, there's always a chance of a soldier or two roaming. Bandits, certainly. He isn't interested in explaining himself right now. Not when he has intentions of returning.

While he's inside the Horizon, he takes a few minutes to stop by his own domain. Walking up the path is when he catches a familiar figure, just outside the path leading up to the broken gate of the fortress. A white wolf stands inside, a few feet away, watching closely. ]

Looking for someone?

[frontlinetitties]

[Gideon whirls at the sound of Geralt's voice, hands instinctively going for her sword even as familiarity sinks down into her bones. A voice she knows, and ought to expect, given that this is precisely the place she'd been looking for. A dark and forbidding fortress with a wolf standing sentry at the decrepit old gate-- this has gotta be the place.

Her hands drop to her sides, sword still strapped to her back, and she slants Geralt a smile that's mostly free from embarrassment despite the way she reacted.]

Thought it was about time I swung by, you know?

julie.

[gynvael]

[ The problem, Geralt's discovered, with the owls is that they insist on perching on him and not one of the many walls and fences in the area. Jaskier would probably have something to say about metaphors and letting go, but for Geralt, he just wants the owl to not keep flapping onto his fucking head.

Is he wasting time in here? Possibly. The afternoon sun is scorching; he's slipped inside a cave, and then into the Horizon, both to seek some reprieve from the heat and because perhaps some small piece of him is hoping he will find Rinwell in her domain, against all logic. He knows she's gone. Of the losses, hers stings the most. A hollow in his chest he can't quite shake. Maybe he should've seen it coming. Time comes for all of them, sooner or later.

He'd ended up leaving Cadens abruptly—a week earlier than he planned. The house is the last place he wishes to return to. She's one of the reasons they moved in the first place; half of the decorations displayed are hers. They're still there, books and flowers and tiny outfits for her miniature owl. Her horse remains in the stables. Eventually, they'll need to sell it, but. He doesn't want to think about it. Not right now. Besides. Jaskier and Ciri aren't home, either. They've left, with Julie and Nadine, on a trip the bay near Aquila. Not hard to guess why none of them want to stay in Cadens after everything. It's good. He's glad to hear it. They could all use the fucking break and for all that's happened, at least here, they've got each other.

Each other and. Owls, in Geralt's case. Two of them. They are larger than Hootle, who Rinwell had informed him was an owlet not yet fully grown. A red bird sits atop a thick ribcage bone. He means to this one bring to Jaskier's tree. The one that's stubbornly perched on him is a black and white variation.

He removes the owl from his head again. It gives one of its unsettling, human-sounding hoots. Perhaps it needs a perch it prefers. Should he make one of those obnoxiously brightly coloured trees? That's where he found them sitting originally, before they flew off to follow him.

—The crunch of footsteps in the snow makes him turn around, owl still gripped between his hands. Geralt looks mildly caught, as though he isn't expecting anyone to find him with a round owl in his clutches amidst the desolate, foreboding backdrop of Kaer Morhen. ] Hey.

[princessvegas]

[ It's not the first time she's seen an owl on Geralt's person. It is the first time she's seen an owl that size trying to sit on his head, though.

Julie is on vacation. She knows that, at least in theory, that should be extended to being out of the Horizon. Like going to work, or going about daily chores, it should be something she gets to set aside to relax. But she has, over the months, discovered that staying out for too long becomes a problem. After a few days, she starts to feel a sort of anxious homesickness, except it's not for home, but for the club. It grows if she keeps away, turning into a feeling of detachment, almost derealization. It gets worse and worse until she goes back, and just like many things that happen there, she doesn't know what it means, isn't sure if it's just her or what. A lot of what she experiences there does seem to be unique among them all.

She just knows that she has to drop in occasionally. Even just a quick visit is enough. Besides, she likes to feed the animals -- her own pets, Wanda's crows, the wolf. Julie knows that she absolutely doesn't need to, that none of them ever have to eat, but she's a farm girl. It goes against her every instinct to not feed animals.

Her attachment to the wolf doesn't really have much to do with Geralt, outside of it being his wolf. She comes regardless of Geralt's presence or lack thereof, sits on the ground and strokes the wolf as it eats, lets it rest its head in her lap after. That's really all she's here to do now, in fact, on a lazy afternoon, in lieu of a nap.

Geralt had left Cadens with little more than a word, and she's fine with that. It wasn't the easiest moment for him to up and disappear, given the absolute maelstrom of shit coming at their group from every angle, but she trusted that if any of them needed him, he'll be back before they could even finish asking. Then Ciri and Jaskier had swept her and Nadine from the city too, and for someone who has never actually been able to casually travel with friends, it absorbed her attention. There was shopping and food, exploring all sorts of places in Aquila's breezier, tourist-friendly areas. And the beach.

Honestly, Julie hadn't known what to expect. Of course she knew what the ocean looks like, in general. Pictures and movies had made sure of that. And she'd lived on the lake in Nott. But she is from somewhere so dry, so far from water. Even though she thought she had some idea of what it must be like, she really had no idea. And just like when she first went to Nott and would spend whole days just sitting at the lake's edge, now she spends as long sitting in the sand as the others will allow before they get bored.

The wolf, wearing his sparkly best, lazily walks by Geralt to get to Julie, who has stopped in place. In one hand, she is carrying a tray that appears to be holding an entire rack of ribs, raw. Her other arm is folded, hand covering her mouth to hide her smile. There's a basket in the crook of her arm. ]

Sorry, I didn't think you'd be here. Um, new pet?