abraxaslogs | [ CLOSED ] the feeling never dies in your eyes

[ Her head is full of static, mind completely clouded with sensation. Dark eyes flashing as she looks down at him, her hand grabs tight at his chin. She swallows roughly, licks her lips and watches him, like she's trying to find something in his face, but the truth is that she is just caught up in everything she feels at the moment -- the physical, yes, but also the fact that her ribs are doing that thing where she thinks they might burst from emotions she can't even name.

All she can think about is how fucking strong and important and valuable he makes her feel, and how good he feels inside her, and then his eyes go black, his skin white, and she swears under her breath. Her whole body seems to contract at once.

She wails against his mouth, both arms immediately wrapping tight around him, one hand clenched in his hair, pulling without meaning to. ]

[ This is one of the few times his expression is open—nothing shuttered behind closed doors. His eyes are pure want, even black as they are, and when he kisses her, they fall shut.

The groan that comes from him is more of a growl, a rumble deep in his chest. She pulls hard on his hair; it almost hurts, and along with the squeeze of her legs, her body, around him, everything snaps and spills. His teeth sink into her shoulder: piercing, maybe even enough to break the skin, leave an imprint.

He catches a breath, one arm around her, sprawled beneath on the scattering of cushions and rough sand. Fuck. For a long moment, he just lays there. Lets himself enjoy the hazy warmth, the weight of her on top of him. No one's ever asked to see him like that before, something monstrous to most, and it's. Different. It's good. ]

[ Her eyes never seem to fully close, stay fixed on his until he lays them back down. Only then does she let them shut, as she settles against him, her nose pressed to his jaw. The noise she makes would best be described as a purr, like particularly happy cat.

When she lifts her arm to comb her fingers through his hair on the other side, there's a very dull ache on her shoulder where he just barely punctured the skin. She doesn't take much note of it, just sighs and lazily opens her eyes halfway, looking at the fine map of black lines around his eye socket, almost to his temple. It looks like abstract art. ]

Thanks for bringin' me out here. [ She means it. Even minus the incredible sex, this day was something she needed. ] Way better than huntin' back home.

[ He hums, contented. His fingers trace idly patterns into her skin as she lays beside him.

Eventually, he cracks open his eyes to look up at her. He smiles. Sure. Of course. ]

Your magic's grown. [ He lifts an eyebrow. Lightly curious, but not much more. He brushes her chest. ] Maybe some time, we'll hunt you a tooth of your own.

[ For out here. To match the one he gave her in the Horizon. ]

I do spend a lotta time practicin', you know. It'd be pretty pathetic if I never got any better. But this is the biggest thing I ever conjured before.

[ And she doesn't know that she could have managed anything more complicated than a basic tent and some cushions, but she's still pleased with herself. It's much, much more than she ever thought she'd accomplish when she practically passed out a year ago, after a single small spark of flame.

She gently catches his fingers and presses them to her lips. ] What has good teeth 'round here? 'Sides you. I'll let you keep yours.

[ Hm. It's nice. This is the first time he's had any real shelter in the desert that wasn't a pile of rocks and a cave or an overhang. He could almost get used to it. ]

Generous. [ He tucks one arm under his head while she has his other hand. His thumb presses gently to her lips. ] Sandcats. Impressive canines. Almost as much as mine.

[ Which are now beginning to fade again. He can feel the points growing blunt against his tongue. Just as well. They should return soon. As pleasant as their little tent is, he'd still prefer to sleep in a bed tonight. ]

[ She grazes her own dull teeth over the pad of his thumb, watching the black veins grow lighter and lighter. It really is a bit hypnotic, and she doesn't know why, but she likes it.

Her hand falls to his chest, next to his medallion. Dragging her nails lightly along one of his scars, she snorts and closes her eyes, head resting on his shoulder. ]

Speakin' of impressive. Are you aware that Jaskier's tryin' to drag you into a threesome by tellin' Nadine that you're amazin' in bed? 'Cause he is.

[ As her head lands on his shoulder, he lets his hand drop in her hair, stroking it. Then he blinks—surprised and yet not. ]

With Nadine? [ He huffs a sound through his nose. It's not a no. He's simply never looked at Nadine in that manner. He's always felt...protective of her, in a different sense. And the reality is, he's content with what he has in Julie. His bard on occasion. ] As long as he's not sung any songs about my cock.

[ He pauses. ] I assume she didn't agree.

[ Jaskier would not have delayed telling him otherwise. ]

She didn't mention any songs, but that doesn't mean they didn't happen. And no. She thinks you're gross, so she nixed that idea. [ This is said so breezily that it's obvious Julie finds Nadine's explanation funny. Which she does, very much, if only because she can't fathom not wanting to fuck him.

With a hum, she taps her fingers against his skin. ] No, she wants me. Her request. I asked if she was sure, just me, and she was very sure, so. Y'know. You can take that how you want.

[ Amusement curls his lips. He is fairly certain those were not Nadine's precise words, though he thinks it would be funny if they were. He almost wants to know what that conversation even was. Both between Jaskier and Nadine, and apparently Nadine and Julie.

Though they seem to have come to a conclusion. He glances over, contemplative. Hm. ]

And what do you want? [ Not that Julie ever has a problem taking what she wants, typically, but he asks anyhow—if only because aside from how she feels about it, he hasn't got too many thoughts on the entire notion. Truthfully, he's almost surprised it's taken this long for more than one of them to have ended up in the other's bed. ]

[ His suspicion is correct, that was not what Nadine said, which was actually very complimentary and made a point to say he is handsome. But honestly, Julie isn't entirely sure how they fell into the conversation. They'd simply been talking about how different their lives are now, and then Nadine was like 'by the way congrats on the excellent sex you're having', entirely out of the blue.

So this leads directly back to Jaskier.

Sighing, there's a moment where Julie bites the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. The truth is that she's just very easy-going when it comes to sex; sex comes along, she says yes or no, it's that simple. No real depth to it. ]

I wanted to be sure it was what she really wanted. And I wanted to talk to you first, not 'cause I think you'd [ She moves her hand vaguely in the air, as if to somehow gesture the concept of objection or jealousy ] but 'cause I don't want you to feel like you're bein' shut out or that anyone's creepin' around behind your back. It's fucked up to do that shit, keepin' things secret and hidden. And I know I wouldn't wanna feel left out of the conversation if it was the other way 'round. But otherwise, it's not anythin' new, the whole setup. I just never really thought 'bout Nadine like that. [ For a myriad of reasons, more than one of which stretch back to their own world and what Julie knows of Nadine's life. It required a mental reframing.

She shrugs casually, idly reaches and laces her fingers through his. ] I just want to have a good time. I don't wanna be on my deathbed someday, thinkin' "what if?". Plus I kinda missed girls anyway, so that's convenient. I won't lie though, I always sorta thought it was gonna wind up you, me and Jaskier together. Just never realized Nadine would be into the idea.

[ He turns on his side, watching her. The reality is, he rarely has conversations about his relationships. They simply do not happen. At most, he's told someone they're important to him, but that's the extent of any discussion.

He certainly never had anyone concerned about...if he were to be left out of the decision. It's a novel thing. It isn't that it bothers him or he thinks she shouldn't care. He's just never had the sentiment directed at him before where bedding others is concerned. It takes him a second to find how to respond. ]

A good time is all the reason anyone needs. [ They haven't got much opportunity for that lately. He lays back down, her fingers through his. Gives a thoughtful noise. ] I suppose Jaskier's opening her horizons.

[ It's good. He's glad Nadine has someone she can trust. ]

[ Julie's experience in having "relationship conversations" has been limited more to making unilateral decisions that most benefit her. If it was useful, she would inform them of status, and not give room for discussion. It worked much better than one might think. But she doesn't need to do that now, and she's not good at talking about emotions, so the best she can really do is hand gestures.

What she said, however, is true. She doesn't want him to feel bad, and she doesn't want something that's meant to be simple to become something dark that she's hiding. Not talking about it would have somehow been much more of a statement, she thinks. It would change everything entirely to not talk about it with him.

Her thumb lazily runs over the back of his hand. She snorts, lets out a little hmph with her eyebrows raised. ] Jaskier didn't do shit with her horizons. He wasn't in my loft the other night.

[ Oh? Geralt considers this information briefly, though he does not ask further. ] I know. He was in mine.

[ Ciri's taken a two-week long escort contract. He is not immune to taking advantage of having their home to themselves for a bit. The guards stationed outside their door might be fed up by now—or an age ago—but that's not his problem.

Eventually, he sits up. As pleasant as this tent is, they should ride back. He actually does require a bath. There's an inordinate amount of sand trapped in his hair, and he can hear the horses' growing impatience in afternoon heat. ]

Don't brag about your little private parties you don't invite us to. Rude. [ Said as teasingly as her joke about why Nadine doesn't want to sleep with him. Which is still a mystery, in Julie's eyes.

He sits up and she follows a moment later with a contented sigh. She stretches her back and then stands to dress, beginning by squeezing herself back into her riding pants. ]

Y'know, I met this guy in the Horizon. I guess he's new. But he brought you up. [ Her voice is even, almost distracted, as she rests on a pillow to tug her boots back on. ] Said you would know that he knows about monoliths and that you'd vouch he's legit. He was weird as fuck. Didn't exactly strike me as the kinda person you'd hang out with.

You never asked. [ He's also teasing. It's an open possibility. He won't so no, anyhow, if that's what they all decide they want, but he's gathered where Nadine is involved, discussions are occasionally warranted.

He glances up from buttoning his shirt. Who? It takes him a second. Then: ]

Istredd? [ A perplexed sort of amusement crosses his expression. Istredd apparently has more faith in Geralt's trust in him than reality. Perhaps that's about what he should expect from a mage trained under the Brotherhood's institution. ] We crossed paths once when I was investigating monoliths on the Continent. His vast knowledge serves a purpose, but he's dedicated his life to his research. Men like that will compromise people and principles alike to attain what they believe is key to their life's work. Knowingly or not.

[ That is to say, he doesn't mistrust Istredd precisely, nor does he believe Istredd harbours any ill intent. Not like that. But he does think the man is prone to willful blindness where his research is concerned. ]

Yeah. He was mutterin' at the Singularity like a psycho, so I told him stop. 'Cause it's fuckin' sketchy. Like, I don't really care if people wanna sit there or whatever [ This is a lie, she cares a lot. ] but like, he could be cursin' it or somethin'. Wouldn't be the first person here who wanted to hurt it.

[ And freak connection or not, Julie is not about to risk anyone else forcing her back to death. Her entire life relies on the Singularity's continued health and existence; she thinks that gives her a right to play guard.

She reaches up to retie her hair, smoothing it out, as she continues. ] Then he got real intense and wanted me to tell him about the Singularity and it was just... ugh. [ A small shudder. He had not made a good first impression, though of course he had no way of knowing just how many of her triggers he managed to set off. ] That's when he namedropped you. Said you'd say he was trustworthy. You and Yennefer.

[ There's not any clear indication of what she thinks of this information, this name. She leans back on her hands, watching him. ]

Who's Yennefer?

[ His gaze settles on her, curious. ] You found him at the Singularity?

[ In the Horizon? Istredd had said he'd gone there. Though he doubts the man was cursing it. He has a strange fascination with the monoliths. If there's one thing Geralt trusts, it's that Istredd wishes to preserve it. At what cost, he does not know, but that is where their goals align.

When she says Yennefer, his hand pauses over his cloak. After a second, he picks it up. ]

A sorceress. From home. [ He doesn't mean to be evasive; he can barely explain who Yennefer is to himself. None of the words feel right. In the end he settles on context that Julie might understand more than searching for some vague term. It's a door he's been reluctant to open when it comes to the life he's built in Cadens—not for any reason except that he's a man who prefers to move on than look back. And where Yennefer is concerned, it always feels too much as though he's looking back. ] She's in Thorne. She was there with the Queen.

Uh-huh. Sittin' in front of it, mumbling like a crazy person to it.

[ There's an irony in the fact that Julie, who is in every other way a greedy, possessive brat, is very rarely jealous in a romantic sense. And while she can't say she likes the way that comes out of him, her hackles don't raise just over the idea of another woman.

She was there with the Queen, on the other hand, has an immediate effect. A sour, angry expression spreads over her face. She can feel hot fury settle behind her eyes. And she can't say whether she would feel this way if she hadn't recently relived that particular event, but it hits a terribly sore nerve.

Julie is almost never at a loss for words, but right now, the only ones that come to her are so hateful, so violent, and not meant for Geralt. So she doesn't say anything, just abruptly rises and exits the tent, which vanishes behind her.

On the plus side, she didn't set anything on fire. ]

[ There's a sigh when she storms out. It's not that he can't understand. He felt the same anger from Ciri, too; doesn't begrudge it exactly.

Still. He made a choice in that room—the only one that mattered, the only one he felt he could. And he would make it again for Ciri. He would not have wanted anything less than Yennefer's trust he can handle some pain to protect what's important. What happened remains a deep scar for a different reason—not the capture, but the memory that violently resurfaced, compounded by her betrayal he remembered afterwards.

It's something he's told almost no one. He's mentioned it to one or two, a memory shook loose, but not the real reason behind it or the precise nature of it. Only Jaskier and Ciri to this day comprehend the full picture. He's not sure he'd have even told Jaskier had the bard not stumbled over the cellar that spawned in his domain. The truth is, he doesn't want to talk about it. He does not want to dig deep into his heartache to untangle why he feels how he does.

Eventually, he returns to the horses. Roach gives him a nudge, and he scratches her mane. ]

I don't wish to revisit old wounds. [ He is not referring to the physical marks left on him. He tugs on the straps of Roach's saddle. He's quiet, something open and raw he doesn't bother to mask. ] I've spent too many of my days healing them as it is.

[ Except sometimes he's not certain he's finished doing so. A stark reminder lurks in the Horizon each time he enters. ]

Edited 2022-10-27 14:22 (UTC)

[ Her intention isn't to dredge up something and make it a problem, but for him, this is year-old information. It's new to her, and she just made a point of forcing herself to go through it all again to protect Stephen Strange. It's... a lot. And Julie isn't someone who forgives or excuses easily when it doesn't immediately behoove her to.

By the time he makes it to the horses, she is already mounted on hers, with the distinct aura that she had only barely restrained from riding off on her own. The truth is, she really wants to do that, wants to let Baron gallop to his heart's content so that she doesn't have to think about anything except how fast the wind rushes past her. When she was much younger, with even fewer anger management skills than she has now, it was something she used to do. But empty fields and dirt roads in rural Kansas don't have bandits or monsters lurking around, and they didn't have Geralt either.

Her fingers clench around the reins she holds, her knuckles white. She isn't trying to make him hurt. That's not what she wants. Baron impatiently paws the ground as she grinds her jaw, trying to pick her words carefully. ]

Wounds only heal once there's nothin' around to open 'em back up. [ And this Yennefer is clearly very much still in this world. That makes her a problem, in Julie's eyes. Someone who was willing to fuck you over once will always be willing to do it again.

It's all she says to him before she tightens her legs, lets Baron start heading back. But she mutters under her breath, to herself. Her mind is spiraling with anger. ] Better not get close to it again... birds of a fuckin' feather...

[ He mounts without a word. It would be different were Yennefer not here. But she is. He's put it behind him, for himself, not because he's forgiven her but because he finds it exhausting to carry on mired in bitterness. And because Ciri has her reasons for believing in Yennefer, in those unknown years that span between them. He will not force Ciri's hand one way or another. She's more reluctant to lower her walls than even he is. When she does, it carries a certain weight to him. However he feels about Yennefer, Ciri deserves his trust. That is something he will afford her without fail.

But he does trust Julie, too, that she knows him, that at the end of the day he simply needs space and time and room to make his decisions. He has never considered himself a complicated man. More just one few have cared to understand, beyond the people closest to him.

He rides for a while without speaking, lets her work through her thoughts or feelings as she will. He is not, at all, aware that she has spoken to Stephen about what happened to him. ]

When I was in Nott, [ he breaks the silence at last, ] there were times I was loath to leave. I am glad I saw it with you. Circumstances aside.

[ She did not tell Stephen who it happened to. Made a point of not even indicating a gender for the victim. And when she showed him what it had looked like, she'd created a generic body to apply the wounds to. The truth was that she hadn't wanted to talk about it, had struggled with her own feeling that speaking of it at all would be a betrayal. But Stephen needed to know what he was up against, and Julie is the only had ever seen the wounds at their worst -- even Nadine only ever saw them after Julie had cleaned them out, wrapped them overnight.

It had worked, to make Stephen take the threat seriously. He's a doctor, knew the severity of what he was looking at when she showed him. Understood how deeply it had affected her just to be the one caught in the aftermath. At least it served the purpose she wanted.

Her trust in Geralt is not changed. She doesn't hold it against him to need time, to make these decisions. She only wishes he had been more open about some of the details; that it was not only one of their own but someone from his home world, someone who is still here. No matter what anyone feels or trusts, that is a threat, an active one that still, apparently, sits on the court.

Active and growing, as Istredd had been particularly emphatic about going to school with her. Julie grew up in a place where everyone knew everyone, and had since childhood. Old bonds are much stronger than new ones.

For a long time, she is lost in thought, diving into the depths of her own manipulative tendencies to better understand what might have happened to put all these pieces into place. Where they might go next. For a Summoned to come into this world and claw themselves up onto Thorne's court, win the queen's favor enough to necessitate testing, that takes ambition. Julie knows ambition. Knows that personality. She was that person, for so long, and might have been that person here had they not thrown her in the dungeon. It gives her insight. This kind of chess is one of the few things she truly excels at.

But he speaks and she looks over at him. There's something genuinely heartbroken in her eyes at the thought, not of Geralt in Nott, but of them not being in Nott now. She's never been tight-lipped about her desire to go back, live there, despite knowing the danger. Her smile is soft, a bit regretful. ]

I'm glad too. They don't deserve what happened. They don't care about any of this political bullshit, it ain't their war. They're just stuck in the middle.

[ The irony is, even Geralt never saw the worst of it. He felt it, and it fucking hurt, but beyond that? He doesn't truly know how the scar appears. It's never crossed his mind to go out of his way to examine it. He's only glimpsed it now and again in mirrors angled just right.

He looks back. Mm. He knows. He feels better with her close by, but he can't blame her for missing Nott. In the little time he spent there, it'd suited him better: the climate, the people, the lakeside. If not for Ciri and Jaskier, he may have remained there. ]

So it often goes. [ Village and towns—razed for being in the way. ] You'd have liked Oxenfurt. Not too different. Bit larger.

[ He curls his fingers around the reins. A few minutes tick by. His mind has not entirely left the topic of Yennefer. He is not often one to explain—but he doesn't want Julie to feel as though he would forsake her, or even himself, solely because he has history with someone. No matter how complicated that history. If it comes down to it—he knows what he'll do. ]

I haven't got any easy answers about Yennefer. But I have made hard choices before, and I will again. Let me handle her.

[ He had not understood then. He does now. And he's never hesitated where it counts. If there's one thing he knows about himself, it's that. ]

Edited 2022-10-28 02:59 (UTC)

[ Though she tries not to think about it, the truth is that Julie's mind is a veritable library of things no one else will ever see or know. The story of New Vegas, the lives of everyone she ever knew, her own entire history. The scar on his back doesn't bother her simply by virtue of being something that other people can see. It's memory of before it was a scar that haunts her if she lets it.

In her ideal Abraxas, they're all together in Nott, though she knows that for some of them, Cadens probably suits better. But Julie hates the desert (at least Vegas had air conditioning), hates the government, is wary of the people there. The sole upsides are the fashion and the access to Aquila, the only other place she thinks she might care to live in, but at the end of the day, she came to Cadens because who she was with mattered much more to her than anything else. She wanted to be with him, with Ciri and Jaskier and Sam, and if she had to live in Cadens to do it, then that was what she'd do.

Her smile grows a little. She chuckles. ] Sounds perfect. Nott is a little on the small side for my tastes. Bigger'n where I'm from, smaller than where I always wanted to be.

[ Biting the inside of her cheek, she tilts her head to the side, pushes a strand of hair out of her face. It's not a question of his choices or her trust in them. She knows herself well enough to know that it's something much more selfish and venomous. This Yennefer was a party to hurting someone important to Julie, and that's enough to drive white hot hatred for a very long time.

She's never been one to let things go easily. ]

You can handle her. I trust you. But she's got friends now, if it comes down to it again. You don't have to handle 'em all on your own.

wrapping!

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