ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛᴇᴏᴜs ᴍᴀɴ ( ᴊᴇɴɴɪғᴇʀ ᴀɴᴋʟᴇs ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
righteously) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2022-05-23 07:34 pm
righteously) wrote in abraxaslogs2022-05-23 07:34 pm
Hunters Anonymous (OPEN)
WHO: Dean & Open - Mingle it up!
WHEN: late May
WHERE: the Horizon - Roadhouse Edition
WHAT: Starting a Hunters Anonymous Support Group
WARNINGS: drinking and murder, mostly.
NOTES: This is an open mingle, so feel free to top-level below! The idea here is to open up the Roadhouse for hunter-types to use as a central meeting place or base of operations for anyone who desires to, so feel free to use it as a backdrop for any threads whenever. Obviously non-hunter people are welcome to see the message and wander in whenever they want, too! Info on the Roadhouse can be found here. Hit me up at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
paingravy for anything you need any time.
WHEN: late May
WHERE: the Horizon - Roadhouse Edition
WHAT: Starting a Hunters Anonymous Support Group
WARNINGS: drinking and murder, mostly.
( It starts out with just a couple of people. Dean, obviously, because it's his bar. Eventually Geralt, followed by one of Geralt's other hunting buddies — and then another, and then before you know it there's a handful of hunters all swapping stories about the crap they've seen out in the wilds.
It's about the time Dean makes to take out a notebook and honest to god start writing some of this crap down that two things hit him — First, this is actually really freakin' useful. Second, it feels right. The Roadhouse here may be fake, but this is what the real one would've been like. This is what it was meant for. This is the most real this place has been since he got here.
So he runs it by Geralt, and puts out an APB.
Harvelle's Roadhouse is officially open for business — and not just of the drinking variety.
Mind the jukebox. )
NOTES: This is an open mingle, so feel free to top-level below! The idea here is to open up the Roadhouse for hunter-types to use as a central meeting place or base of operations for anyone who desires to, so feel free to use it as a backdrop for any threads whenever. Obviously non-hunter people are welcome to see the message and wander in whenever they want, too! Info on the Roadhouse can be found here. Hit me up at
no subject
Sometimes they get too close to the road. Or wander into the land designated for livestock, cause damage. Admittedly, their shells and scales can fetch a good price -- seems apothecaries powder them for some purpose or another -- but one animal yields a lot of parts, considering their size. They get aggressive on occasion, but it doesn't seem to be the rule. I don't go after them just for the parts, but if I have to put one down, well... I'm not about to waste it.
[ She tilts her head, regarding him curiously. ]
None of these where you're staying? What have you got?
we can handwave the rest if you want, I know it's pretty old ;^;
And he's way beyond antsy. Antsy to do something. The last thing he's made for is hanging around a farm all day.]
Huh. I never thought of it. I mean -- things I hunted, they were already rotten half the time. Or turned into, like, ash. Not real substantial.
[He had Nico making weapons from their parts, but he's pretty sure no one else does that, because Nico is insane.]
Nah. A lot of forests. I went in and poked around, and about the biggest thing I saw was a giant boar. Which, yeah, great burgers, but it wasn't really bothering anyone. Didn't feel up to ruining his day.
tightens grip on this thread... no!! >:|
[ She even misses boars. The type that live the desert taste different. (At least with Sam and Julie's influence, she doesn't have to ask what a burger is). ]
Really? I get it now. [ This time, actually addressing Nero. She crosses her arms, sizing him up. A smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. ]
So you're just the big, brawny, hopelessly soft-hearted type. Understood.
scream
Soft -- hey, we just met! Kind of early for those snap-judgements, huh? [He crosses his arm not to mock her, because. Because. Whatever. And yeah, that was the point of snap judgements, but he's ignoring that bit.]
I mean, at least you added brawny. [More than Wanda gave him.] But come on. I'm used to killin' monsters, not overgrown porkchops. The guy's barely gonna put up a fight.
no subject
All right. What sorts of monsters are you used to killing, then? No large pigs or cows. Nothing too cuddly-looking.
no subject
[He's totally made his point. When everything you fight stinks, or is covered in rot, or bleeds everywhere, or spits acid, or explodes in a mass of accumulated human blood, it's -- you gotta enjoy the little things, right?
Like a lil bloodthirsty armadillo.]
Gross stuff. [Is how he'd put it when Nico first got into all of it. It's a succinct answer, all right?] I know all the worlds are different... you guys got demons? Might not be the same as mine. The kind of shit your auntie warns you will eat you in two bites if you don't go to bed on time. Kind of -- you know what, this place is nuts, right? [Well. Probably. Geralt's helped him on the "making bullshit appear in the Horizon" side of things.] I could show you. Want a demonstration? Promised Dean I wouldn't burn down anything, though -- so maybe outside. Guy's kinda big.
[Hah. Demonstration. And he's just got the one in mind. (So he can look impressive.)]
no subject
Got lots of things aunties warn about. [ Demons not generally being one of them, actually. But she's come to realize that word can mean various things across worlds.
And the subject here is less demons and more things to fight, which Ciri naturally finds intriguing. She's willing to give this Nero character the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he'll come up with something really interesting. ]
Outside, then. Where you're allowed to burn things down.
[ She grabs another beer bottle on the way out. Prepared to watch a show. ]
no subject
[And he's never had an aunt, but if he did. And she was in the Order... which she would've been. She definitely would've warned against demons. Probably. Or, fuck, maybe she would've been one like the rest. Who knows.
He leads the way, even holds the door open for her as they step out. He's also got a hand on his own drink, a bubbling bottle of cream soda. There's a table out there already waiting for them, ready to hold their drinks, but more strange than a single standing table is the flash of red eyes from the forest. Nero notices, but he's gotten used to them following him, so he just ignores it.
What matters, anyway, is what he's making in front of them: a firey portal opens horizontally above their heads, and out drops a gigantic demon, his giant clawed feet landing on the ground and shaking it. Fire and magma pours out of his stomach, which is fanged, opening wide -- another mouth. As the fire hits the ground, it sizzles and burns. His voice echoes, deep and guttural. Who dare summon me? Goliath looks down, squinting with every eye coating his torso. Another weak human? Pathetic in the face of a king.
Nero strides up, giving one of his clawed feet a little kick.] Cute as a button, isn't he?
no subject
The monster is so enormous, she's pretty sure Dean might have to extend the no setting things on fire rule outside too soon enough. It's definitely like nothing Ciri's ever seen before, not at all what she was thinking when he said 'demon' or even 'monster' in general, uglier and bigger than any kikimore or alghoul.
She looks visibly startled, and perhaps grudgingly impressed. ]
...yeah.
Ew.
no subject
Nailed it.
Now one might ask why it matters to Nero that he impress Ciri. The answer is simple: she seems cool, and when's the next time he's gonna have time to hang out with other hunters, anyway? The Order was full of stodgy old dudes without any concept of fun. Dante's a hunter, but now there's -- there's baggage. Even if they were still back in Redgrave. And Ciri's like him. Near his age. Out there killin' monsters. (Maybe he wants to see her at it. Why not?)]
Yeah. Nasty, huh? I gotta tell ya, the number of demons that smell like wet farts is way too high.
[What did you say, you insignificant bug? Goliath bellows over their heads, his stomach-mouth beginning to drip liquid fire out onto Dean's nice little driveway. I'll rip your body to shreds!]
So. [He turns to Ciri, sitting on one of Goliath's giant clawed toes.] Wanna have a go at him? Nothing can really hurt us here, right?
no subject
Slowly, her smile spreads. She gives a sharp little nod, muscles already tensing, buzzing with eager energy and the burst of adrenaline the massive beast inspires, even if she technically knows it can't hurt her. It isn't fear, despite her wariness. It's excitement.
Ciri sets down her bottle on the table, steps forward, and puts out a hand. Her sword materializes within it, several feet of double-edged, gleaming steel unraveling from nothing. The casual clothes she'd been wearing before shift too, into soft fitted trousers and a leather cuirass, sturdy fingerless gloves to keep her grip. She doesn't really need them here, of course; she might be showing off a little too. ]
Together?
[ Let's see what Nero's got. ]
no subject
Abso-fuckin'-lutely.
[Lone wolf or not, he's been dyin' to hunt. Something. Anything. Solvunn makes him feel like he's sitting around waiting for something to happen, which isn't him. He finds demons. He doesn't wait for them to come to him.
Besides. Practice and all. He mosies back up to Ciri's side, his own sword materializing: the Red Queen, all of her regal glory, and the roar of her engine as he twists the ignition. Fuel drips down her blade, lighting up in sparks. He gives a look at Ciri's blade, noting the different shape. Way less curved than his own. More like one of the Order's. Still a beauty, though.
Good to see some things don't change across worlds.]
On three. I'll go high.
[He doesn't elaborate. His eyes light up with the thrill he knows is comin'. It doesn't feel like he needs to control this thing. This thing, as far as it knows, is Goliath. And it'll act like it, too.]
One. [He steels his body.] Two. Three!
[He jets straight for Goliath, jumping on his huge, clawed foot and running straight up his leg like it's nothing. He jumps to the other leg to avoid a swipe from a large, stinky claw, dodging the toothy mouth tummy to shove his sword into a -- oh god, is that a nipple?
Goliath roars, bending forward and then pushing his stomach out; the mouth there, lined with teeth, opens with a screech. The air grows tight as the stomach begins sucking in everything around them -- and luckily, there's not much -- but chunks of ground (sorry Dean) get swallowed, and that's enough for fire to ignite, bubbling out in dribbling magna between Goliath's feet -- aiming the fire he's about to launch straight for her.]