abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] I've been tryna catch a fever dream

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[ CLOSED ] I've been tryna catch a fever dream

Who: Ciri and Viktor; later, Jayce
When: early June
Where: the desert outside Cadens, the crater around the Singularity, the ocean!!, Aquila, Cadens again
What: it's an adventure!!!! that nobody asked for!!
Warnings: blood, violence (mostly against monsters, probably)

[ When Viktor reached out to her to ask if Ciri would be willing to go with him outside Cadens soon, she hadn't thought much of it. Viktor had always seemed so curious when she would come back with supplies for him, or specimens to study; and she loves talking about her work, and would often share details while he took notes, or answer question after question when he showed particular interest. It is perfectly expected, then, that he should want to explore on his own sometime -- or, rather, not on his own but with her accompaniment, considering he might have a difficult time by himself.

But Ciri doesn't ask questions. She helps find and rent a horse for the trip -- "probably just a few hours, back before nightfall," she tells the stable -- and meets Viktor at his workshop in the morning, upon the agreed time. It's early, barely sunrise, while the cool air still lingers and dew clings to the sparse vegetation.

Ciri walks up leading Nixie on one side, while her mare shoots dirty looks at the dun gelding she's picked out for Viktor, chosen for his easy temperament and the stable's promises that he's perfect for first-time riders.

Nixie's tail flicks impatiently. Ciri stops in front of the workshop, nudging her with a shoulder to push the two horses further apart. ]

You are being such a pest. [ The horse. Not Viktor.

Viktor gets a smile and a greeting. ]

Ready to go?

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[ Something catches her eye, but it's even further down than she expected. Sinking even deeper. Ciri spots him finally, and realizes with a fresh, icy wave of horror that Viktor is plummeting like a rock, dragged down by his metal brace. He isn't moving.

She dives after him, thrusting her sword out to let its weight pull her faster, but Ciri quickly realizes that same weight is going to be a major hindrance to getting Viktor (and herself) back to the surface. It's one or the other, at this point. If it was only her, she could have figured it out, the lack of scabbard a problem but not an insurmountable one (depending on how far they are from shore, which frankly, she also hasn't had the chance to figure out yet). But already, Ciri knows she cannot carry it and Viktor. The choice is clear.

Ciri releases the hilt of her blade, letting it slip from her grasp and sink into the depths. She doesn't watch. Her eyes are already seeking the hints of green-tinged sunlight again, as both her arms wrap around Viktor and she kicks up, dragging him along.

By the time they break the surface, her lungs and throat are burning, black spots skittering across her vision, heart pounding about to burst. Ciri gasps loudly, ragged, sobbing breaths, clutching Viktor around the middle with one arm while everything else frantically works at keeping them afloat. ]

Viktor! [ Ciri screams at him because she doesn't know what else to do, shaking him roughly into consciousness. ]

C'mon, please-- Breathe!

[He's just barely slipping into unconsciousness when he feels an arm around him and the distinct feeling of being pulled upward. It's too late for him to be coherent, however, with no air in his lungs from the unexpected plunge into the ocean, so when they breach the surface, it's a long moment or two before his body catches up and realizes that there's air to breathe. She shakes him violently, trying to keep them both afloat and after a painstaking moment of no response, he rattles awake and gasps for air, surprised.

There's still nothing under his feet, and he's trying to tread without anything to hold on to but Ciri--the good news he isn't very strong, or very heavy, generally speaking, which means his flailing attempts to gain some kind of stability does little to drag them both down, with the braces the biggest hinderance, insofar as weight is concerned.

He does, however, seem terrified, spitting up water and largely unable to speak, eyes wide as he tries to comprehend just how they ended up here. Maybe they should have just stayed in the desert.]

Don't let go. [If it's obvious by now, he can't swim.] Don't--

[ Oh. He's awake. Thank the heavens, he's even talking after a few much needed breaths. Ciri was just considering if another portalling attempt was worth trying if she couldn't get him conscious, but since they're both breathing now, she finally has time to take stock of any other options. Hopefully. In a moment.

Viktor flails, and Ciri tightens her grip, pressing her forehead to his. ]

I won't. I won't, I promise. I've got you.

Please, stop thrashing.

[He's still gasping and choking, even as he forces out words--trying to bring in more air just nets him a mouthful of seawater, so he stops trying and just nods, the terror still evident on his face. She presses her forehead against him and he squeezes his eyes shut, as if he expects her to make another attempt, because treading water in the ocean is even more untenable than being stranded in the desert. There has to be land. They have to be close, at least. He doesn't want to entertain another option--it's hard enough to breathe already.]

I'm sorry-- [Objectively, he knows that none of this is his fault, but he's certainly not making the situation any easier.] --I didn't mean--

[To slow her down. To put her in harm's way. To make her fight for him to the point that both of their lives are in danger.]

It's okay. [ She is gasping too, treading water for both of them. ] We're okay. Calm down.

[ Finally, Ciri has a moment to actually look around now that both of them are theoretically breathing and not sinking. Around them, floating dead in the water, are a couple of the bug-things from around the crater. Beyond them, more water. And beyond that-- ]

Look! [ Ciri tugs at him, swimming toward what she's just noticed. A spark of hope, at last: a sandy beach, visible over the bobbing waves, and past it the silhouette of buildings. The shape of them, from this distance, is tentatively familiar. ]

I- I think we're in Andromeda Bay.

[ It's not close, exactly, but it's doable. And in the bay, the waves aren't as large as out in the open ocean. They're going to be okay. She won't have to try to portal them again, risking even more disastrous results.

Ciri takes several more shaky breaths, and slowly begins to pull away from Viktor, shifting her grip from his waist to his arm. ]

I need you to hold onto my back.

[Calm down is a tall order in a situation like this, when he's trying to cling to her and tread water even against the pull of the metal around his leg, but there's no denying the relief that washes over him when she tells him to look and he sees land. It seems far away, but he knows that's just his mind making this all seem more impossible than it really is.

Safety is within reach, at least, he wants to hope it is.]

That's--that's good.

[Right? Closer to Cadens than they were, and if there's civilization nearby, they can figure it out from there. He's much more confident about his ability to find a solution to their problem on solid ground, with a city in reach. He'll think about how close they'd come to death several times over once they get on solid ground.

Ciri tells him how he needs to hang on and Viktor obliges, even as he struggles to keep his head above water. They just have to hold out a little while longer, is what he tells himself.]

Okay--okay. I can do that.

Edited 2022-06-15 01:21 (UTC)

Okay. [ Ciri repeats, trying to calm them both. ]

We're close. Just hold on, and kick your legs if you can, just slowly is fine.

[ As soon as her arms are free and Viktor's holding onto her shoulders or belt, however they've managed, Ciri begins swimming toward the visible shoreline. The waves, thankfully calm, help buoy them, making it a little easier to keep their heads above water-- but any turbulence at all makes swimming harder, and Viktor hanging on adds another complication, though Ciri won't complain. It's slow going. She doesn't speak, all her focus on getting them close enough, until finally, they can see the line where the waves lap at the white beach.

Ciri feels around for ground beneath her, accidentally dipping under the water twice (sorry Viktor) before it's suddenly shallow enough her boots hit sand. ]

[He nods, dipping slightly under the water in the process, but now that the initial panic has subsided, he can focus on a concrete plan. This can't be easy for Ciri, dragging him along even as he does his best to provide additional momentum--he understands what to do in that department, at least. There's no talking for the entire journey, which lasts too long, the shoreline still so far away until suddenly it isn't.

Viktor feels the ground under his feet and he tries to get purchase on it, and the only reason he doesn't fall over right away is because Ciri is still supporting him. They trudge their way out of the shallows and onto the beach, and as soon as the sand is stable enough beneath him, his knees buckle. She, arguably, had the harder job, but given Viktor's lack of experience in these kinds of situations, he all but collapses as soon as they're on solid ground.

He coughs, spitting up sea water, and then he keeps coughing, a rough, wet sound that shakes his whole frame until the sea water foams pink and then red. It subsides, eventually, leaving him on his hands and knees, blood dripping off his face as the waves wash in underneath him.]

[ As they drag themselves onto the beach, dripping and exhausted, Viktor becomes heavier without the saltwater carrying more of his weight than Ciri. She hooks an arm around his middle again, staggering free of the waves, and then there's sand. Wet sand, sea foam, and Viktor collapsing beside her. Ciri goes down with him.

The coughing is mostly expected. The blood isn't.

Ciri stares at the pinkish-red foam until the next wave washes it away. Then, she just stares at Viktor for several more seconds, both of them on all fours until, without a word, she shakily pushes herself to her feet again. Gripping Viktor's upper arm, Ciri tries to leverage him up as well. ]

Edited 2022-06-15 04:34 (UTC)

[Given the chance, he'd probably collapse right where he is, rolling over on his back and simply breathing until he's forced to move again. Viktor is vaguely aware that there's blood on his face, dripping out of his mouth and nose, but he's too exhausted to wipe it away or even pretend like there isn't something wrong with him, unrelated to being teleported into the ocean and almost drowning. Thankfully, Ciri doesn't ask about it, instead hooking her arm around his to pull them both to their feet.

He obliges, despite every part of his body screaming at him not to. They can't stay on this beach forever, not if they want to make a plan to get back to Cadens, so he forces himself to keep moving.]

Do you know where we are?

[Aquila, if they're lucky.]

[ Ciri slides her arm under his, hoists him up the rest of the way, and seems determined to drag or half-carry him as necessary. If they stop now, if she lets herself lie down on this beach, she is not getting up for several hours at least. Drenched and bedraggled, they stagger toward the silhouettes of buildings visible beyond the beach, their formation vaguely familiar. This isn't the part of the bay she'd stayed in twice now, but she recognizes it. ]

Near Aquila.

[ The answer comes clipped, unfocused. Exhaustion pulls at her with every step, and now that a safe place in sight and the adrenaline is starting to seep away, every cut and bruise and aching muscle vies for attention with a vicious insistence.

At least one of these buildings on the edge of the beach has to be an inn. A bed and breakfast, at the very least. Or owned by a sympathetic person.

It's still the middle of the day (somehow, though it feels like many hours should have passed with everything that's happened), and there are people about. Unfortunately, they make for such an alarming sight that most shy away. One little girl actually takes off running, and Ciri thinks she's actually terrified, understandably, of the blood-covered weirdos washed up from the sea--

But about halfway across the sand, the child returns, pulling an older man behind her. The rest is sort of a blur, in which Ciri haltingly mumbles some story about their boat sinking and having to swim back, that they just need shelter briefly, and she can pay later. ]

[Near Aquila is not necessarily Aquila, and even after they drag themselves off the beach, they still need to make it to actual civilization. Viktor does his best to put himself on autopilot and ignore the pain of his injuries and the pain of exerting himself far past his own limits. He has Ciri to lean on, at least, though she's most certainly in worse shape than he is. All he can really do is push onward, trying not to count steps until sand gives way to dirt paths and then, finally, to the buildings that line the outskirts of the beach. It doesn't take long for them to be noticed.

Everything that happens after a few considerate townspeople take them to the closest inn is something of a blur. They negotiate room and board--Viktor might be washing dishes for a day or two, but ultimately the proprietor is sympathetic, and gives them a room and a meal for the evening. He imagines they can sort out an actual trip back to Cadens in the morning. For now, all he wants to do is strip off his wet clothes, clean his injuries, and sleep.

Ciri needs it, too, and he doesn't disturb her even after he wakes up. It's dusk, when he finally finds consciousness again, though he does his best not to disturb his temporary roommate. He makes the unilateral decision that they both need to eat something, so he heads downstairs to pick up meals for them. The room is small, and sparsely furnished, but there is a little side table and chairs for them to use, which Viktor turns into an impromptu dining space. It's only after he arranges the bowls and utensils that he moves to wake her, figuring that it's important to eat--she can always sleep more, later.

Plus, it's possible they need to talk.]

Ciri. [A gentle nudge to her shoulder. He tries not to loom over her bed.] You should eat something.

[ They get lucky, or maybe seaside type of folks are just more laid back. Ultimately, all that matters is there's a room to sleep in, and it even has two beds. Ciri would have frankly just laid down on the spare rug on the floor if not for that and passed right out; as it is, she actually makes it onto the bed, barely taking the time to shove off her boots and belt. The rest, she can't be bothered with, even to clean her wounds. The exhaustion that has been pulling at her all this time hits in full force the instant she nears the promise of a bed, like stepping over the edge of a cliff into unconsciousness.

Eventually, through the fog, there is something jostling her again. A voice. The pain returns, a steady, all-over ache and stiffness. It takes Ciri a few moments to remember Viktor exists.

She rolls over onto her back with a groan. ]

...what?

[Viktor pulls back immediately, wanting to give her some space. He's cleaned himself up and done a cursory dressing of his own wounds, but seeing how throughly exhausted she was, didn't press her to do anything before she fell asleep. Now, however, it seems almost negligent if he doesn't at least try to get her to eat something.]

Sorry.

[He withdraws to one of the chairs, moving gingerly on a wooden crutch that the tavern owner was able to borrow from the local apothecary.]

I brought it up from downstairs. I wanted to offer. [Plus, he thinks they could both use it. There are many questions he could ask, of course, but he knows she's on edge and he doesn't want to press the issue until she's ready.] We don't have to talk about it.

No. It- It's all right.

[ Shaking off the disorientation, Ciri slowly pushes herself up to sit on the edge of the bed, setting her socked feet on the floor and grimacing immediately as she realizes she's practically encrusted with ocean salt and sand, still damp in places, and very itchy. ]

Please tell me they have baths.

[ It takes a minute for her body to catch up to each of the discomforts, but shortly, the hunger hits as well. ]

Thanks for the food. I'm famished.

[ With another grimace, she pushes herself from the bed onto one of the small chairs arranged by the table. The room is small, and the furniture feels a little crammed in, but the overall effect is charming and cozy, not cluttered. Clearly, everything has been arranged with care. She'll have to go downstairs and thank the innkeeper properly when she's more put together, figure out how to actually pay. Free supplies, perhaps. Something worked out with a trader she's done jobs for before. Something to think about later.

Right now, she grabs a hunk of bread and dips it right into the stew, not even bothering with the utensils.

After a few bites, Viktor gets a more thorough look-over. They do need to talk, but-- later. She doesn't shoot the idea down, either way, instead asking a question of her own. ]

Are you all right? No broken bones, no significant injuries?

Edited (one million typos) 2022-06-17 20:27 (UTC)

They do. I’ve had one.

[It wasn’t the height of luxury, of course, but it was still his best shower in recent memory. He also seems to have patched himself up, though the purple of a creeping bruise is visible underneath his sleeve. Getting her to sit down and eat feels like a win, and he only realizes just how hungry he is when he takes his first bite.

He has to chew and swallow before he answers, but he buys himself a little more time with a nod.]

Cuts and bruises. I’ve, ehn. Had worse. [He’s downplaying it for her sake, but this is not at all the worst amount of pain he’s ever been in, so he’ll weather it. Viktor’s quiet for a moment, as if debating whether or not he’s going to breach the topic. Ultimately, he supposes that he can thank her for what she did without interrogating her about her abilities, or asking for an explanation. His gaze drops to the bowl in front of him, a little ashamed in spite of himself.] You saved my life. Thank you.

[ She nods in return, and doesn't ask him about what had happened on the beach. Surely, if he had internal injuries that needed immediate attention, he'd have said something or be at the apothecary instead of here. Which leaves-- another suspicion, one she's had for a bit, and she doesn't pry. She takes him at his word, and that is that.

The thanks, however, seems to surprise her. Ciri looks up still with a mouthful of stew, staring at him a moment until she can speak again. She scrubs her sleeve across her mouth (ew, actually, that was a mistake) and shakes her head. ]

I--

[ It's not like she put him in unnecessary extra danger on purpose. It feels hollow to apologize, though she does feel responsible. Ciri bites her lip and looks down at her bowl again, offering a weak shrug after a second (another mistake; her shoulder protests). ]

I'm relieved you aren't badly injured.

[Perhaps he's waiting for her to bring it up--when she doesn't, his shoulders relax slightly. Maybe she'll want to talk about it later, but for now they avoid it, just as he's avoiding outright asking her about her abilities.]

We were both very lucky.

[Well, Viktor was lucky. Ciri was wholly competent. He's still guilty for wandering off and attracting the attention of the creature that started this whole ordeal, though he knows she won't want him to say as much. Viktor has a feeling he knows what she's thinking--maybe this isn't very reassuring, but it's something. He doesn't want her to blame herself.]

None of this was your fault.

[That much seems apparent by now. Something about the Singularity interfered with her powers. They couldn't have planned for that.]

Edited 2022-06-18 03:26 (UTC)

[ For a moment, Ciri freezes. The briefest pause, a hesitation of her hand between bread and bowl. She takes a breath, and the moment passes, and then she takes another bite and chews slowly.

He's not wrong. And also, he is. None of this would have happened if he'd been with anyone but her -- that's what she believes, and it might sound a bit egotistical, but she has cause for that sort of conclusion. It's difficult to explain, even though she wants to. He deserves to know, and yet there's so much she can't, won't tell him.

Ciri likes Viktor. He's smart, competent, easy enough to talk to. He has interesting ideas, and he's proven himself a reliable friend and ally over the weeks they've known each other. But she doesn't trust him, not wholly, and so she knows she cannot tell him as much as he probably deserves to know. It's for both their safety. So, despite his attempt at reassurance, probably unkindly, she remains silent for some time.

Finally, Ciri sets her bowl down, cleaned with the last of her bread, and looks back up at him. ]

It wasn't yours either. [ She concludes, knowing he probably blames himself for being a burden. The conclusion he'd come to, that she'd saved his life, makes that clear enough. Maybe it's not wholly inaccurate, but Ciri wasn't thinking of it that way; she was saving both of them. She'd promised to watch his back out there. She was only keeping her word. Neither of them could have expected this. ]

I'm going to take a bath.

See if you can't beg some stronger stuff than stew from the innkeep. Tell him I've got credit with several of the local merchants. We can pay, given some time. Use my name. He might have heard of me.

[ It's not a boast; she does business in Aquila fairly regularly, these days. ]

I certainly didn't make it any easier on you.

[He can sense the shift almost immediately--Viktor doesn't think he necessarily overstepped, but he's starting to think this runs deeper than what seems to be a Singularity-imposed malfunction of powers. He works with magic, but actual mages are new to him. For all he knows, these abilities are no different than those of other magic users he's met while in this world. He understands being ashamed, but it's possible there's something here that he's missing.

Viktor knows, however, that she doesn't want him to blame himself. He's going to, anyway, but at the very least he can keep it to himself. She announces that she's going to take a bath, and he doesn't stop her. While she's gone, he does what she asks--sets up a real meal for them with the innkeeper, then messages Jayce. It takes up most of the time she's gone. When she returns, she'll find him finishing the conversation, though a shopping bag on the table indicates that he's been doing some errands, as well.]

I used your name, and the local apothecary donated some supplies. You should take care of those wounds.

Please, Viktor. There's no point. We can toss the blame at one another back and forth for an hour, but all that matters now is that we're both in one piece. I don't want to hear it.

[ Largely, this is because she doesn't want to keep dwelling on how badly she'd fucked up for both of them. It's not entirely her fault, sure-- but it's more her fault than Viktor's. She should have been paying more attention out in the desert instead of feeding her horse treats and letting Viktor wander about. She should have been more careful, not gotten over-reliant on her magic when she knows it's not reliable. There are so many things she can think of in hindsight that could have prevented this whole situation, but none of them are relevant at this point in time. They could drive themselves crazy trying to backtrack for no reason. She just wants to move on.

So she'll have a bath and clean up as well as she can, take stock of her injuries, find something else to wear until her clothes can also be washed. She'll take her time, focusing on each step to the exclusion of other thoughts as much as she can help it. At some point, she remembers to reach out to Jaskier, realizing with a sinking discomfort that he'll probably worry-- and that doesn't really go as well as she'd hoped, either.

In the end, the bath doesn't improve her mood too much. Ciri emerges wearing only towels, and carrying a too-big dress to change into, awkwardly borrowed from the innkeeper's wife.

She looks disproportionately relieved to find that Viktor has not only procured more food, but also ale. And supplies. She'd just been gearing up to go talk to the apothecary herself and trying to decide if there's a temporary bandage she could make to keep from bleeding on the borrowed clothes. Now, it's one less thing to do. ]

Good thinking.

[ She sits back down, reaching back to gingerly touch the gashes on the back of her shoulder and see if they're still bleeding, which was a slight problem after the bath. ]

I'll need your help. How good are you with a needle and thread?

Edited 2022-06-19 20:33 (UTC)

[She's right, though it's not necessarily going to stop him from feeling that way. He knows himself--knows it will take him some time to come to terms with everything, and he's not sure if he'll be making any trips back out into the desert soon. Still, he has the sense to keep it to himself, especially when she comes back in a similar mood.

Similar, but she seems more amenable to talking, at any rate. The least he could do was be industrious in her absence, though he knows what she's getting at right away and offers a little grimace.]

I can mend clothes. That's not what you're asking, is it?

Sorry. I can't reach it.

[ She smiles faintly, a wry look more than one of real humor. ]

Bit more of an adventure than you were expecting, is it?

[ Ciri reaches for the jug of ale on the table, drinking directly from it. ]

If you can mend clothes, you can do this. I trust you.

Let me clean it first, at least.

[He knows enough basic first aid to do that, and he understands sutures in theory. Ideally, there'd be forceps, or an actual surgical needle in the supplies he brought back, but that's not the case. They're going to have to make do.

There is, at least, disinfectant and clean linens, which he prepares and starts to dab on the cuts.]

It will certainly be a story for me to tell. In the future.

[Just, you know, not too far in the future.]

Thanks.

[ Ciri lets the towel slide off her upper back, and reaches up to move her wet hair out of the way. Judging by the evidence of many other scars all over her shoulders and arms, it's clear she's probably used to this sort of thing -- and there aren't always baths and clean linens available.

There are two prominent gashes from the beast's claws down her shoulder blade, and two more that are little more than scrapes from the angle. Luckily, they aren't very long. ]

I talked to Jaskier. Our horses made it back.

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