abraxaslogs | [ OPEN ] hide your love, don't be shy

[ One eyebrow lifts. ] Is yours a cube?

[ All worlds are spheres, as far as he's aware. He's yet to find anyone who comes from an irregularly shaped world. Perhaps one day. He's encountered stranger things as of late.

Claude seems to have something on his mind, though; Geralt watches, but does not interrupt. When it comes, he only nods. Mm. Sometimes he's been here so fucking long, he's forgotten that the discrepancy can be...a new experience. ]

No. [ A gulf of years exists between he and Ciri. He isn't the only one, either. How it works, he's not learned, but in some ways he isn't sure it makes a difference. Not for him. Not now that they have made their decision to stay here. They don't need to know if they've no intention of returning to their respective homes or places in time or however the fuck it's meant to be. If that's even possible. Nothing is ever so simple.

There's likely only one reason Claude is asking, though. ] You found friends.

[ For a second Claude does nothing but stare. A cube? Is that really a thing? Asking himself this then makes the unsaid context behind 'sphere' sink in very belatedly and, well. Nothing to do but laugh at that and himself. ]

Okay, you got me there. Ours is certainly also a sphere based on the globes used by researchers, but we don't usually refer to the world by the shape. More like by country or continent, if anything.

[ He'll shrug that off though not without another chuckle at his own expense first. It's a good thing to get some humor in since hearing Geralt and Ciri don't recall the same things is both a comfort and anything but. It leaves him with more questions, but he nods slowly in response. ]

I knew them from the same academy we all attended, but we ended up on different sides of the war. One of them comes from the morning of something I lived months ago, and the other knows of something that never happened for me. If it had, it would've changed everything about what happened. Nothing I did would've then been possible.

[ That's the least complicated explanation he knows how to give, especially given that he does consider them friends despite everything. Sometimes that's the hardest part to reconcile now, something increasingly weighing on his mind the longer they go without talking about it all. But - can't change the past if that's what it is, and they're here now to deal with it.

At some point Claude's gaze shifted to the desert out before them, but now he glances back at Geralt and adds dryly, ] Hopefully your situation is also that delightfully uncomplicated.

[ For all intents and purposes, to those who live upon it, the Continent on his world is the only continent which matters beyond sparse instances of trading. The others are small, located a long ways across two seas. Even he's never travelled there. What would be the point? Months-long journey, possibly more. Waste of his time.

But it isn't important, so he doesn't mention it. His attention is instead on what Claude is saying. A casual enough explanation—except the part where Claude says never happened for me. His head tilts. That's new. That's different. A gap of years, he's heard of that. A discrepancy is something else altogether. It isn't that the concept is foreign. Theories of...alternative versions, he's spoken to one or two about it. He's just never met anyone who's experienced it in Abraxas itself. ]

Mm. Just about as. [ How does one reconcile an event that never occurred to someone you knew? It would be as though he met Jaskier, but a Jaskier who did not know him to have gone to Rinde and met Yennefer. (A Yennefer who had not betrayed him.) ]

You're saying they know you to have made a different choice.

[ A choice. It'd be simple if it was just that. Wouldn't it? It's crossed his mind before since hearing what Sylvain told him, then what Petra told him. The latter of which is more concerning as it'd rewrite history, at least to Claude. But he also believes Petra, hence the complication. ]

Maybe. I suppose there's a chance it relies on choice for one of them, but the other? [ Where to even start. Claude has to think about that, strip away details that matter to him but require all kinds of added explanation. ] In what I lived of Fodlan's war, we marched on the Empire's capital and they never approached ours in the Alliance. But for one of my friends, it was the Empire who marched on our capital. Whatever happened there in Derdriu, they had the upper hand and I surrendered.

Which, in all honesty, sounds like something I'd do. Dying for an ideal's never been one of my dreams, not for me or for anyone else.

[ There's a good chance he's too nonchalant for that last part though it is the truth. Sounding lighthearted's how he approaches most things so this will get included into it to keep it on more of an even keel in his mind. What Petra described at Derdriu (and what Sylvain's lived so far) isn't the only difference, but he's not even sure he wants to get into how Teach does or doesn't factor into all of this. Not yet. ]

Maybe none of that matters now considering we're all here and can't change whatever happened for each of us. Especially if we... aren't the only ones this has happened to.

Dying is in few people's dreams.

[ The remark is dry. He starts back towards his horse, only a few paces away. Begins taking off her saddle. He's not keen on riding back in it heat, and here's a good place as any to wait for dusk. The sun's already low in the sky.

The multiverse is what a handful here call it. He's not unfamiliar with the term—the kind of writings scholars with too much time on their hands explore—but Claude's explanation sounds...an extreme version of the concept. Not small choices made or different realms existing. Rather, a shift in a world where the people, the places, remain the same but the events do not. ]

Ciri and I are a few years apart. But our memories align. She just knows more.

[ She was a child, in other words, when he last saw her. Young and headstrong. Now she's grown and equally headstrong so not too much has changed. He feels it now and then, that gulf between them. There are things she will not say to him that he knows she's keeping. He's just not asked. Doesn't seem the right time. ]

Maybe not dying in general, but when it comes to dying for an ideal you might be surprised at how popular that can be in Fodlan. Both as its own ideal and in reality.

[ Well. Another thing likely to not matter here, given the Fodlan contingent's collective feelings on this war back when it'd only been brewing. One more thing he should probably add to the list of things to discuss, really.

When Geralt steps back to his horse it gets a slight smile from Claude, if only because it's reminiscent of what he would've done with his own wyvern. Claude's attention turns to a different plant nearby but this one he recognizes thanks to Nadine's guidance, and he goes back to kneeling to collect what he can of the shell-leaves. Those will be earmarked for the clinic's supplies before anything for his own use, and as Geralt speaks again Claude glances up. ]

I'm only a year or so ahead of them in my case. But a few years between both of you, even if you share the same memories. [ A pause to focus on cutting a tough stem without injuring the leaves and while he does the math on what the other man's said. ] Doesn't sound any easier, not that any of this is. It also sounds like you and Ciri have known each other for a while.

[ Perhaps there are those like that here. He wonders. How many will die for a war that isn't theirs? What makes it theirs? Geralt hasn't any attachment to the land, the politics, but the people are another matter.

And they cannot exactly go home. ]

Long enough. [ Longer for Ciri. He doesn't get into the surge of memories that struck them, how he didn't remember her and then he did. Then they all did. But even with those memories, only months had passed. For Ciri, she's known him years.

Still seems to like having him around, though. So he must've done something right in those years. ] I took her in when she was a girl.

[ He's brushing Roach as he speaks, cleaning off the dust and ash and dirt. The air's not gotten much better since Libertas went up in flames, but the smoke's finally cleared out of the sky a little. More than ever, he misses the sharp clear air of the winter mountains. ]

[ Long enough doesn't tell him much by itself, an island of a sentence, but it does with the added context after. Ciri had mentioned training from a young age, and he has to wonder how that fits into this. Something else which could hold no weight in Abraxas, perhaps doesn't make much of a difference besides establishing relationships to those who are curious. (Like Claude.) ]

Are you someone who trained her? She'd said something about training and stubbornness, two things I can relate to well myself. That was back when we were using bows and arrows, though, and before I saw her in action with a sword. Much different.

[ An easier topic than war and what it might bring to them or what it's wrought upon their homes, given he still has questions wisely tucked away from their last conversation. For now, the leaves he's collected get secured in their own pouch. Claude retrieves a list tucked away in yet another satchel pocket to peruse through what he'd scribbled on with today's botany goals. It occurs to him during his reading his words possibly sounded ambiguous at best, and he taps a finger idly against the paper in his hand. ]

That was meant as a compliment if so, considering I thought her bow skills were quite good. But seeing her with a sword in hand was... something else entirely. Probably what my combat instructor hoped I'd be able to do back when he taught me, but swords never were my strongest suit.

[ Geralt doesn't answer at first. He runs the brush over Roach, letting Claude finish speaking. Half the time, he isn't sure if Claude is talking to him or if the man is musing all of the thoughts in between out loud.

He weighs what he wants to say in the meantime. Eventually settles on: ] I raised her.

[ He did more than train her. She is more than his student. It's not a thought he stumbles over anymore. His memories from home are firm in his mind; he's no longer missing those pieces that left him wondering just how they came together—not the grand scope of it, but the quiet little moments. The bits on her plate she'd always pick around at dinner, the treats she'd sneak his horse, that face she'd make at him when he sent her to bed.

And she should impress with her skill. He never taught her anything less. ]

I imagine one day, she'll best me. [ He's not serious, but it isn't wholly a joke. He's only getting older by the season. ]

Edited 2022-10-11 07:06 (UTC)

[ Somehow, even with the mention of years and his own fishing for whether that training looped in there among it, Claude isn't expecting Geralt to say he raised Ciri. During the silence he'd kept reviewing his notes, thought of something here and there to add to them once back at the inn, content to wait for whatever the other man opts to share.

So what finally comes out of his mouth after his own lack of immediate response is, ] Huh.

[ There's a lot to unpack there. Or, more accurately, it promptly drags a lot of things out of some corner of Claude's mind he'd been doing this best to not think about. A joke about children upstaging their parents gets discarded because now his thoughts are on Petra and Sylvain again even if said thoughts hadn't wandered far. What it means that they're here, why he knows what he does, why seeing them is far more complicated than he's been pretending that it's not. How he might feel if any of the Deer show up someday when that possibility comes with both relief and trepidation attached. Is it the same for Geralt? ]

Does it make it easier or harder that she's here too?

[ He asks this before he's fully aware he's going to, but there it is. For once he's not interested in the fine details of something. Any answer will do even if the answers he can think of to apply to himself are no less tangled, no easier to sift through. There's a chance that - aside from the general lack of words - Claude's telling on himself here by keeping his eyes his list even if it's also clear he's not really looking at it, not with his tone also decisively not light or teasing but tinged with something heavier. ]

[ That's a far more subdued response than usual. Geralt pauses a moment before resuming his work on his horse. There's obviously something on the man's mind. It's just a matter of how much he wants to pry. ]

It's not that simple. [ Both. Neither. Nothing about Ciri is easy, but it isn't right to say it's difficult, either. In a sense, he doesn't think of it in those terms. Whatever complications she does or does not bring into his life, she will always be worth it. ]

She's here. I wouldn't give her up for anything.

[ And she's the entire reason he's even attached to this world in the first place. If not for her, he'd be the first fighting through that doorway to return home. To find her. ]

Are you asking because of your new friends?

Partially.

[ That's the immediate answer he gives in his usual near-instant way of deflecting something he doesn't want to actually answer, but it's a little late for avoiding that. Even he's aware of this, so Claude frowns and looks up from the list that wasn't serving as a very good cover anyway. He can think about the intricacies of what's said in regards to Ciri a bit later even if it's all connected. ]

Not just them, but also what I... [ He trails off, pauses for a second, then shakes his head. That part's not worth finishing, so on to something else. ] Anyway. There's others I'd be glad to see here but also I don't know enough about here to be actually happy since everything could still go sideways in an instant. What happened after Nocwich proved that.

[ As if it really needs to be said again since it's still firmly lodged in recent history. But that does also circle back to something else that'd been on his mind, even if his initial fear about it was proven wrong. ]

Someone in Thorne told me they watched the attack on Libertas because the queen there made the Summoned there witness it. What they described with the fire coming from the sky... if it'd been replaced with light, that'd be far too close to something I've seen before during the war in Fodlan. Only other difference being we were given enough warning to narrowly avoid it striking us then, but it still leveled where it hit.

[ Hm. Geralt glances over his shoulder briefly. Then he sets the saddle down and simply sits under the tree. Starts stacking up a little campfire. ]

Every world finds a reason for war. [ That's life. Doesn't matter where you are; something's bound to go to shit one way or another. Multiple times. ] Before I was pulled here, half the Continent was burning. So nothing's changed.

[ Libertas is a pile of smouldering ruins; he imagines Nott looks much the same. Winter will hit Thorne harshly. More will die. No one in the castle, of course. But the fields? The farms?

He tosses some kindling on the fire pit and lights it with a burst of heat from his palm. The flame catches easily on the dry tinder. Yeah. He heard the same from Thancred and Yennefer. Doesn't surprise him Ellya made a show of it to her people. Dramatic fuckers, royalty. ]

Cities rebuild eventually. [ That's the thing. Everything falls. But they rise just the same. ] Libertas will, too.

[ He listens as Geralt speaks, and - it's not comfort, not really, to know someone else has seen variations of the same, in what they've lived at home and now here. But it is steadying somehow in a way Claude can't put a finger upon; maybe it's from growing up watching Almyra's relentless war with Fodlan, frustrated with how pointless it was but otherwise unafflicted unless it resulted in some other vitriol his way. Or from then being in Fodlan to understand the depths the cost of war could reach when it involved the entire land, and having to be the one pulling all the strings to prevent anything besides the least amount of damage possible.

Every world finds a reason. This, at least, he hears as a universal truth, and something to consider on his own later on.

Claude looks up in time to see Geralt light the fire in a method not entirely familiar. It doesn't resemble Reason and the flames he watched friends generate and control before, and that - well, and the fire - is enough for him to stand up and brush the desert off his trousers and approach. Reasonable enough to invite himself over in his mind so he takes a seat a comfortable distance off to Geralt's side, not one to encroach on another's personal space, and takes his gloves off with great care to set aside in case any of the poisonous plant lingers on them. ]

You come from somewhere that has magic as well. With the - [ there's a gesture here that's meant to mimic whatever it was Geralt had done with his hand, though it may or may not be accurate - ] Or something close to it?

[ For once he decides to wait for Geralt's response before adding his own, instead directing his attention to rummage around in his bag again to retrieve a packet of jerky. Claude takes one for himself, then holds the pack out as an offer for Geralt to do the same. ]

[ If Claude were to ever say, he'd get it. The pointlessness of it all, how it doesn't ever affect him as someone who never belongs anywhere in the first place, at any given moment. No nation, no people except the Witchers who are practically myth, dying out. What would he care about war other than to avoid it?

It's a little different here. Here, he's no longer certain of where he stands.

He glances up as Claude invites himself over. He doesn't mind. Just expected Claude to wish to continue on his way picking herbs.

A pause before he accepts the offering. ]

Mm-hmm. [ Yeah. Magic. He doesn't see it as distinct from the magic of this world. Those in Abraxas simply harness it using another technique, but the source is the same chaos. ] Witchers are taught simple Signs for utility.

[ When the offering's accepted, a smile ghosts its way across his face before Claude sets down the packet between them. Might as well share while they're here passing time, or until Geralt wants his solitude back. In the meantime he takes a bite of the jerky before inspecting it like that'll tell him whatever the seasonings on it are. Either way, he'll have to tell Petra her recommendation at the market was a good one.

He pauses when Geralt explains the fire before resuming chewing thoughtfully as though it'll help him parse through that statement. Those are all words he recognizes, yes, if not in their current alignment. Well, save one which feels like the most important part. ]

A witcher.

[ His first thought conjured by that unknown term is of priests and mages, of healers using non-Faith based medicine and the unkind whispers about witchcraft which would pervade even if their cures would more often than not work. But look where assuming got him last time. ]

Is that an occupation in your world?

[ He's trying to not repeat his cube blunder, really. But curiosity wins out in the end, as it always does. ]

[ Claude may have realized by now Geralt's habit of speaking with almost no context given until asked. He doesn't appear to mind the questions, though. More a sense that sees no need to volunteer details where they may not be needed or wanted. ]

Sort of. [ He tears a piece of the jerky and pops it into his mouth. (It's not bad. Actually seasoned.) ] We're our own kind. We kill monsters for coin. Not many of us these days.

[ He'd left it as hunter the last time they spoke, so. This is an added piece of information, however small. He's a little more than a typical monster hunter, a little more than a typical mercenary. ]

And you? You're a soldier? [ Something of the kind, the way Claude's spoken. Someone who's experienced his share of battles at least. ]

[ Sort of. He considers this and the explanation following while taking another bite. It feels like something slots into place, even if he's not sure what, exactly; the mention of few witchers (something Claude still doesn't quite hear as a proper noun) left and being their own kind feels like something. He thinks back to their last conversation and of being on the outside and how they'd each left their own gaps in that.

That, however, is decidedly not the sort of thing one asks casually. He hums thoughtfully in response with his gaze on the fire, content to let that go, and Geralt reverses that question back his way. ]

Also sort of. [ A rueful smile since that qualification feels rather apt. Claude picks up a twig from the tree nearby and tosses it into the fire, which consumes it immediately. ] I suppose I could've been considered one as a teenager through the academy I attended though they were quick to remind us we were students whenever possible while still using us as soldiers-adjacent. When the war began, I became a commander. A high-ranking one through a title I had, but all of that's past tense now in more ways than one.

Others have told me it's pointless to speculate on why it is we've been brought here. And yet I do it anyway since because of all of that - arriving into the barracks made a certain amount of sense I wish it didn't, unfortunately.

[ Close enough to a soldier in his eyes. But he understands what Claude means. To many, Geralt could be considered close enough to a sellsword. For him, the distinction is important: both professionally and on a personal level.

His expression turns thoughtful. This. This is something that's little known, if only because the man he uncovered the information is long gone. Vanished months ago. Geralt had not seen him since they escaped the dungeons; they'd spoken once or twice. He'd been wary of him, for one. Someone who saw so fucking much—a power to this day he doesn't fully grasp—he had not wanted to be around it given Ciri.

Still. He glances back towards the fire. ] It isn't. [ Pointless, that is. ] Thorne appears to have known who they wanted to summon, but their spell was not...as accurate as they would have liked. Not at the time. Those they dragged forth by mistake—we wound up in the dungeons.

[ If Thorne has that ability, that book, then the Free Cities, Solvunn, they must as well. Or are they summoning blind? He isn't sure to this day. Without access to where the spell takes place, it's impossible to say. ]

[ That wondering aloud that's not quite an existential crisis but close enough to it: Claude's not really expecting an answer. Or rather, the answer he expects to get is another variation of what he'd mentioned of why wonder at all? There's logic in that, he's sure, but he has always loved a puzzle more than anything else.

Luckily, that's just what Geralt presents him with. Another twig destined for the fire is in his hand but he rests it against the ground as the other man speaks. A frown flits over his face at yet another reminder of Thorne's wrongs. ]

I've heard about Thorne's questionable hospitality towards those they chose to bring here. [ It's slightly a politician's answer, some old habits called forth with that fleeting thought of titles, but. The level of disdain in his voice likely makes his actual (far more negative) thoughts on that clear enough. 'We' didn't escape his notice either. ] Not that I think the Free Cities are particularly benevolent. I also heard about how some who were in Thorne were able to flee to here or Solvunn before summoning began everywhere.

[ Which - wait a minute. Claude sits up straighter as what he sees as potential implications sink in. ]

Surely doing this over and over means they're fine-tuning the steps as they go. And that would mean based on there once being supposed 'mistakes' that they do know of some reason or reasons for why they want that particular person to begin with. And that they know of the worlds we're from, somehow.

[ It is a politician's answer, one to which Geralt simply lifts a hand: the imprisonment is not his point. He may have mentioned it before, Claude likely has heard it elsewhere if not, but what is the purpose behind his statement is what Claude concludes some moments later: that these nations know. They have always known. Thorne at the very least.

That Claude is a soldier of a kind? That he is not the only Summoned with experience in war and battle drawn through the Singularity in Cadens? That is not necessarily a coincidence. Claude is not wrong to read a pattern into it. ]

Mm-hm. [ Exactly. ] I doubt they know the particulars. But I imagine they know more than any of us would prefer.

[ If they did have particulars, they would not have left Ciri alone all this time. Especially not Thorne. No. There remain pieces these nations don't have access to. And what they do know is not entirely clear. It must have something to do with the Arcana signs, though. ]

Edited 2022-10-21 01:07 (UTC)

[ That brief frown turns into a proper brow furrow now after Geralt confirms those suspicions, that what he'd connected together is likely true. It's directed at the fire, at least, but the fire doesn't provide him any answers. ]

I have to say that's even less comforting than finding out you and Ciri also have some kind of time shift but it's not the same as mine. [ Dryly, since - it's a joke, half-heartedly, and it's not much of one considering the reality of what those statements mean. There's a difference between suspecting something and having it all but confirmed, and Claude's remembering that now. Still, he'll force a believable (and short) laugh for the sake of not being entirely bleak. ] It did seem like far too much of a coincidence that most everyone I've met in Cadens either has some kind of military experience or has seen battle. My friends who were summoned, they both have fighting backgrounds as well and in more than war alone. I'm sure that was a mark in all of our favors if they're looking for people to recruit. Or conscript.

[ Now the twig gets tossed into the fire. The gesture doesn't wipe his mind of thoughts, unfortunately, though it would've been nice if it did. They know - that much is clear. Does that also mean they know what's hidden, even if he's the only one hiding something? That's equally disconcerting. ]

What I wouldn't give to see the records I'm certain they're keeping on all of us, both before and after arrival.

[ That's the other point Geralt does not yet mention: that Claude has met only friends from his sphere. Friends, enemies, acquaintances. Loosely linked, perhaps, in some cases, but still linked. This holds true for nearly everyone. He isn't certain if it's deliberate in that sense—but it's possible whatever spell the nations are doing, its reach draws from certain...connections.

Or maybe it's just more Destiny at work. Who the fuck knows? ]

Well. [ He leans his head back against the tree. The fire crackles as the sun sinks, dimming the sky. ] I've nothing to hide either way.

[ Not about himself. They can dig all they want into what he is, where he came from, what he's done. Half of that shit's been immortalized into Jaskier's songs as it is. And no. He doesn't mean only on the Continent. Jaskier's written new ones here, too. ]

[ There's too many loose ends here, and while that's not normally something he minds - it's more troublesome when he doesn't know which to begin with chasing down first. Is it worth wondering why what he knows and what Sylvain's said aligns more closely than Petra's reality where none of that came to pass? Or why it is he remembers Teach differently than they do, but Teach still plays an important part to each of them? Or that if the Abraxan nations know why they were called here, will it really change anything about what the future may bring?

Claude gives Geralt an appraising look after the other says he's nothing to hide, and considers his own response. And then realizes, rather abruptly, that there's not a convenient way for him to answer that in turn - not in any way that wouldn't give away his thoughts, or that he doesn't share a lack of things to keep concealed. Maybe if he wasn't busy dwelling on everything they've spoken about so far in an attempt to forge more connections with what he already knew he could find a way to spin right out of that one. It's his preferred method for dodging anything and tends to not fail, especially if whoever's hearing it isn't the type to press for more answers.

But in the end, Claude for once says nothing at all and potentially confirms what goes on unsaid on his end regardless as they sit in quiet by the fire. By the time night approaches and it's time to head back, he's no closer to any resolutions as he bids Geralt a farewell with a nod at the city gates. He'll be thinking about all of this for a while to come yet. ]

[ OPEN ] hide your love, don't be shy

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