[ Geralt accepts the bottle, lifting it to his lips. They're recognizable things to him now, fridges and glass beer bottles, after a year of wandering through people's modern homes.
Not consciously. Understanding crosses his expression. ]
This place can't sustain fully formed people. [ They emerge as featureless faces or blank automatons of limited ability. A lack of true consciousness. ] And sometimes things...appear. That can't be rid of.
[ It isn't so for everyone, but for some like him, like them, there is a persistent feature. Geralt has buried his beneath the stairs and locked the door. But he can't will it away altogether. He's tried. And he knows. He knows the reason he struggles with the Horizon. It's simply—what's he to do about it? The Horizon forms directly from his mind. Hard to avoid its dark corners.
But it being a person is especially complicated. How do you hide away the uncanny figure of your brother? ]
no subject
Not consciously. Understanding crosses his expression. ]
This place can't sustain fully formed people. [ They emerge as featureless faces or blank automatons of limited ability. A lack of true consciousness. ] And sometimes things...appear. That can't be rid of.
[ It isn't so for everyone, but for some like him, like them, there is a persistent feature. Geralt has buried his beneath the stairs and locked the door. But he can't will it away altogether. He's tried. And he knows. He knows the reason he struggles with the Horizon. It's simply—what's he to do about it? The Horizon forms directly from his mind. Hard to avoid its dark corners.
But it being a person is especially complicated. How do you hide away the uncanny figure of your brother? ]