[ CLOSED ] the feeling never dies in your eyes

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: September
Where: Cadens; Horizon; Libertas
What: thisisfine.jpg
Warnings: Blanket for Witcher canon, destruction/war imagery and related topics, etc., references to child death, NSFW marked



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

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[gynvael]

[ He looks up at the creature that appears to be some abomination of a sylvan and a striga that floats. Not the most attractive face. It's in competition with the giant insect.

He prods at one of the wiggling limbs. It's different, that's all, to stand in front of a creature that he'd normally not be able to without losing several limbs. Different impression is right. Uglier, for one. ]

Still prettier than you. [ There's no bite to the remark. He waves a hand, indicating that Nero can put the monster where he wishes. There are others he can contribute, from leshy to bruxa to striga, but those bring with them memories he'd rather not address at this moment. The myriapod is less...

Fraught. With connections. Somewhat.

Who knew he'd find himself here, making mind monsters for a part-demon to slaughter. New experiences after so many decades. There are worse things to be doing, he supposes. ]

[vengeanceinside]

Oh, fuck off.

[He socks Geralt in the arm as he passes by, the Red Queen materializing on his back. His tail whips from side to side, marking the ground where the spiked tip slams into it. It's totally unconscious, the movement stemming from the adrenaline already beginning to pump through his veins. Oh, yeah. He's got an idea.]

Time to test this baby out.

[He whips Red Queen out and drives her into the ground, revving her motor as she sparks and roars. The Baphomet begins to chant, pulling magic to it, as the air around them begins to drop in temperature, until Nero's breath comes out in a cloud.

Nero drags his sword behind him as he runs at the myriadpod. Unleashed, both demon and monster come at him simultaneously. Red Queen roars, spitting flames as he strokes her up through the air, a cloud of ignited fuel splattering the Baphomet. It screams as the fire burns through its fur, its horn, and even louder as his next hit impales Red right through its chest.

The myriadpod grabs Nero by the leg and slams him into the ground, but the only damage it seems to do is leave a Nero-shaped indentation on the ground. By the time the fight's over, both of Nero's wings have burst from his back, the claws at the joint and his face, chest and hands covered in sticky, dripping centipede (millipede?) blood.

Nero thinks he hears Geralt laugh. He makes sure to lug a big ball of bug gore at his back, just to teach him a lesson.]

[gynvael]

[ That's a hell of a sword. The noise it makes? He'd say it's foreign, but it no longer is. He recognizes it. It's a motor. Sounds just like the one in his bike, in fact. What the fuck? Why is that on a damn sword?

He isn't even going to ask. Just stands to the side and watches as Nero slices open both monsters with...he doesn't want to say no effort. The myriapod crushes him at one point with enough force to smash every bone. Nero gets up like it's nothing. True, it's the Horizon. He doesn't think that's what's happening here, though. He's fairly certain this is exactly how Nero handles being crushed in the physical world.

Too bad they're on opposite sides of the continent. Be useful in a hunt.

It's close to a laugh, one of those quiet amused huffs. He leans to the side to avoid the glob of intestines launched his direction and steps forward to nudge the mangled insect with his boot.

He claps Nero on the shoulder as he walks past out of the domain's borders. Seems his job's done here. He'll return afterwards to see what's become of this place. ] Try not to leave a fucking mess.

feel free to wrap up whenever!

[vengeanceinside]

[Nero's huff is way more annoyed, but it doesn't reach very deep, even if he contemplates sticking a tongue out at Geralt's back (he's not a kid.)

And whatever it means, the hand on his shoulder feels. Good. (It feels great, actually. Reminds him of someone. White hair. Stupid. Seems like it all fits together again.) It's a hell of a thing to feel like someone... approves.]

It's not fun unless there's a mess!

[And maybe he's gonna install some showers nearby. You know. Might as well.]