[ CLOSED ] on the ice i'm afraid

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: November
Where: Cadens; Horizon; Nocwich
What: after the old gods, life goes on.
Warnings: Blanket for Witcher canon and general fuckery; nsfw marked



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

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[gynvael]

[ Now why doesn't that sound familiar. Winning a war seems to be the common denominator. Against other humans, against monsters. But it's the second aspect which catches his attention. Geralt raises an eyebrow: intrigued, not skeptical.

Hard to imagine Steve smaller. ]

I've never heard of mutations taking effect in a grown man. [ Not successfully. Or...that would be the kindest presumption. It's possible the mages simply found children easier to recruit and mould and train, and chose not to bother with refining the process for the adult form. ] Witchers have always been created from boyhood.

[ The information is dispensed matter-of-fact, a little distantly. As though he's skipping over the implications behind what he's saying. ]

[assembles]

[ Mutations? Is that what Geralt would call it? It's not entirely wrong, as the combination of the serum and the vita rays had altered Steve's very genetic makeup.

What's implied next is what truly grabs Steve's attention, though, and he gives Geralt a long look as it sinks in. A Witcher. That's what he is, and it's why he isn't like a normal human. But it was done to him when he was a boy?

Steve doesn't hide his disdain. He doesn't think he needs to. Surely by now Geralt has come to understand how messed up that is, even if he hadn't realized it when he was just a kid. ]

Always? Just how long has it been going on? And who's behind it?

[ He can't quite remove the outrage from his voice, though it's not like he's speaking loudly or making a scene. ]

[gynvael]

[ Geralt's gaze shifts up, then back down. Not wholly dismissive—maybe a sense that for all he understands the reaction, he doesn't know what to do with it. Only when he stepped off the Continent did he begin to come across it. Back home, the history of the Witchers is nothing new—and few gave a shit. ]

Dead. [ Is the eventual blunt answer. ] Hasn't been another Witcher in a century.

[ He doesn't get into it, how much his own were at fault as the mages, the humans. His mother may have given him away and the mages may have administered the Trials, but it was a Witcher who dragged the wagon of young boys up the mountain.

He rests his fingers on the lip of his mug. He considers asking how many like Steve were made, too. But he's not certain it matters a damn anymore. ] Suppose we're both one of a kind here.

[assembles]

[ A century. Meaning that Geralt is at least that old. Technically so is Steve, but it isn't the same unless Geralt was also frozen for seventy or so years. Which he's going to say is probably pretty unlikely. ]

... Huh. Yeah. Guess we are.

[ He raps his fingers against the tabletop for a moment before realizing it's probably obnoxious and drawing his hand into his lap. He heaves out a long sigh. ]

Do you remember much from before it? Or can you pretty much not imagine another way?

[ Steve could offer condolences, but he doesn't think they would mean much to Geralt. Like it or not, this is his life, and he seems to have made some sort of peace with it. You would have to after that long. ]

[gynvael]

A summer or two. Sure. [ That's all the time that makes up before. A handful of years. He tips his head, something of a shrug in the gesture. ] Another life, really.

[ One that's not been a part of him for a long time. He remembers like one remembers a child they once knew; distant, not quite him—something he only thinks about when the topic arises. Mostly, when he considers his childhood, it begins at the gates of Kaer Morhen.

Steve is right. He has made his peace. Inasmuch as peace ever enters his life. He had a family he actually gives a shit about, and he knows that's more than most ever receive. ]

Could be worse. [ His eyebrow lifts. ] I might've been raised collecting leeches.

[assembles]

[ Another life. Steve nods, maybe a little too emphatically, because that's how the time from before the serum feels to him too. Even though it had been over twenty years of his life, the time that's passed makes it feel like he was a different person back then.

And, well, in a lot of ways he had been. Though nothing has changed at the core. That's the whole reason Erskine's formula even worked.

Before Steve can respond, Geralt cuts in with that next wry comment and it takes him by surprise. A curt laugh startles out of him, maybe the first one he's ever managed around Geralt. ] That's... those are your options? Child experiments or collecting leeches?

[ He lets out a low whistle and shakes his head to himself, then takes a long drink. ]

Well, I'm glad you made it out the other end and found your way. For better or worse.

[gynvael]

[ His lips quirk. No. Not quite. But the point stands. ] What were yours?

[ People do not simply volunteer to be experimented upon without a reason. It's a personal question; he doesn't expect a genuine answer, wouldn't be bothered if Steve doesn't grant him one. They don't know each other like that.

Maybe a little better than two hours ago.

Still, rocky start aside, Steve is Sam's friend. One of the few Sam's ever spoken of. And he does trust Sam's judgement, if not necessarily all of his friends. ]