abraxaslogs | [Open] this doesn't look like a party

'Ours' as in the ones here in Nocwich or do you mean where you come from?

[ She peeks one eye open to peer over at him with a curious look as she sinks a little lower into the steaming water. Bites back a contented sound because god, she hadn't realized how badly she needed this. Then again, the day's conversations had been anything but relaxing. Nothing like coming back from the dead to throw off everyone's groove.

She's also guessing he's a Summoned, but most of the people she's encountered here that weren't vampires or werewolves themselves seem to be among their number, so maybe that's a safe guess? Either way, she's not been here long enough to start picking out their faces on sight yet, having only met a handful as it is. ]

A pleasure, Geralt. [ Polite, but friendly. Although her lips curve up playfully a moment later, her eyes closed once more but her attention still firmly fixed on him. ] Come here often?

[ It could be an innocent question, it could be a line. Either way it's teasing, and this entire situation is just ridiculous enough for her that she's having fun playing with it. ]

From home. These folk aren't mine. [ Not what he'd call ours, though more and more, he wonders if it's time that changes, too. His lips quirk. ] Appearances aside.

[ He's joking, although he has genuinely been mistaken before, and—yeah. He can understand it. Supposes it's nice to blend in for once.

His gaze slides towards her, sidelong. The noise he makes is not quite a laugh, but it's close. He looks back up at the stars. ]

Depends on the company. [ His fingers swirl idly in the water. There's a lot he could say, about Nocwich and this world and the fact that they hadn't even been allowed to set foot here until a few months ago. A year changes a hell of a lot. But he isn't keen to dig into the complications of the realm right now. He wants a fucking break. ] Should I come more often?

Not a werewolf then. Noted. [ The playfulness is still warm in her voice as she meets his gaze with a crooked grin when he glances over her way. She's pretty sure that was almost a laugh and he seems the sort that those might be hard-won.

His question just gets a considering hum from her, however. As if she needs a moment to think that over. Or maybe just draw out the suspense of it. ]

I guess that depends. On if you enjoy the company or not.

[ He takes a drink before offering it back to her. ]

Let's say I do. On what end of this forsaken continent does it sit?

[ Where has she been summoned to, is what he means. Thorne? Solvunn? The Free Cities, even? He has not seen her, but Cadens is large, disorganized, and Geralt doesn't spend much time at the inn where they all gather. Only on occasion, to speak to Sam or Nadine. When he's leaving Julie's room.

Though he does think she's a bit hard to miss, Natasha. ]

[ She’s flattered. But she’s easier to miss than you’d think. Although maybe that’s just when she’s trying.

Still, she takes the drink back with a crooked grin and takes another long swallow, relishing the burn of it combined with the steaming water. She couldn’t have asked for a better end to her day, to be honest.

But after that swallow, she lifts one shoulder in a shrug, heaving a deep sigh. ] When not soaking in a hot spring, you mean? Thorne is the one that summoned me. You?

[ Thorne it is. They're expanding their reach, apparently. He recalls when their numbers were fewer, after so many fled. Seems they've since rebuilt their ranks. For what purpose, he hasn't any idea. As far as he's heard, no one's been thrown into the Singularity yet at the crater like they had early in. ]

The same. [ With one difference. ] I didn't stay. Thought I'd try the burning sands.

[ No lost love for the desert here. No lost love for Thorne, either. Cadens is home for a few reasons, but the climate isn't one. Still. Not all of it is unwanted. The abundance of fruit year-round is welcome. ]

[ She pauses in between taking another sip as she arches an eyebrow, attention intensely honed for a moment, despite the steam and alcohol. ]

Were you among the original Summoned? Or did you just decide to relocate on your own?

[ She... hasn't actually heard of that happening yet. She'll have to ask Sam. ]

I can't say I blame you. Although I'm not sure the desert is exactly an ideal vacation spot for most. Do they at least have sandy beaches or something down there?

Mm. Original.

[ Although he relocated a second time after Thorne took him briefly. Again. It's complicated.

Sam would also know about that, if she asks. ]

One. About a week's ride. [ He leans his head back. Aquila is pleasant enough. Less stifling than Cadens. If not for his people, he'd have long left elsewhere. Solvunn, perhaps. Or Nott. ] I prefer the cold.

[ Interesting. She takes note of that, because she might have some questions for him at some point. You know, when they're not naked in a hot spring and sharing a drink in an attempt to relax. She doubts that topic is very relaxing at all.

Still, she gives a brief laugh as she takes another swallow and passes the drink back in exchange. ]

Now there's something I don't hear very often. Pity Thorne's not all that hospitable otherwise. Not that it's so bad right now. Just very... tense.

I'd take the snow over droughted lands any day. Horses are thirsty creatures.

[ An added burden to journeying far, though lately, it's mattered less. He's stayed closer to the city since Libertas was set ablaze. Even now, with pieces of it beginning to stand again, he's hesitant to be too far. A feeling he can't shake, that something may happen and he will be miles away.

Speaking of. ]

Cadens hasn't fared much better. Fire and ash make for poor rest.

[ Still. No armies are marching yet. Perhaps that's the best they can ask for right now. ]

So are humans. But hypothermia and frost bite's not that great for us, either.

[ Then again, Natasha's definitions of "cold" are a little more extreme than most people's.

At his words of Cadens, she makes a soft sound of agreement, shadows flickering in her gaze for a moment as she tips her head back once more to stare up at the sky again. ]

No. They're not. [ She falls silent for another long moment before giving a soft sigh. ] Sorry. That topic probably wasn't the greatest when you're trying to relax.

Mm. [ Concerns he's free from. Geralt doesn't mention it—not out of any secrecy. More a desire not to explain what he is right now. The conversation tends to play out the same.

He looks over, a small twist to his lips. ] Don't worry. I've been accused of failing to relax on a good day.

[ Only so much avoidance one can do when the world is how it is. He doesn't dislike the topic so much as there isn't much to speak on. Cities burn. They rebuild. Armies march. He'd prefer if none of this was happening, but it was only a matter of time. ]

I should have guessed.

[ The smile stretches across her lips once more as she gives a soft laugh, glancing his way. ]

Not that I'm one to talk, I tend to have that problem, too. But isn't that what places like this are supposed to be for?

So they say.

[ He's not sure relaxation is guaranteed. Like her, he isn't eager to dig into the topic of war. What's there to say that's not been said? For a moment, he lapses into silence—but eventually, he catches her gaze again.

He sets the empty bottle aside. When he reaches for his towel, there's no hurry to cover himself as he steps out of the water. ]

I've a friend waiting. [ A bard, specifically. ] Next time, you bring the wine.

[ Since he seems to be taking the opportunity to show off, she'll admire what he has on display, a crooked smirk playing about her lips as she watches him rise from the water and reach for a towel to dry off. When he turns back to bid her farewell, he'd no doubt catch her glance lingering on his... assets before she looks up to meet his gaze with a knowing smile.

She offers him a playful salute, laughter in her tone. ]

It would be my pleasure. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Geralt.

[Open] this doesn't look like a party

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