( Mark or no, there's no chance in hell he'd bail out of something like this. He wouldn't bail for friends he gives way less of a crap about than Geralt, first of all, but the mark... the mark definitely cements it. This is an opportunity. This is an excuse. The insidious, sticky ink clinging to his soul recognizes that too easily, it's too ready, impatiently clawing at the back of Dean's second offered out.
Part of him is glad they don't take it.
The second that axe goes flying, something in him knows none of them are coming out of this alive, and that feels good.
Maybe a couple of them rethink their choice when they realize the fate of that axe. It certainly doesn't meet its target; it slams into a quickly Signed shield thrown up immediately, bouncing off harmlessly and clattering into the dust at Geralt's feet.
A few months ago, this would be a whole moment. He'd be proud, he'd shoot a look at Geralt that practically screamed a boyish: look at that, I did the thing! That training they struggled through actually means something.
That doesn't happen now. Now, he thinks only of the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, and of the fastest way to get his sword down somebody's throat. He goes straight for the ringleader. It's not exactly subtle, it's not exactly strategic, and a couple of them move immediately to head him off at the pass. He's not even remotely deterred. It just means he's throwing down with two of them instead of one, and that should be harder than it is. It should take more effort for another human to manage them. But it doesn't.
A few seconds in, one of them seems to be coming to the terrifying realization that their numbers advantage may not actually be much of an advantage at all. Before this fight's over, he'll make an unsuccessful attempt to flee. He'll be the one Dean thinks about the most after the Mark is cured and gone. )
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Part of him is glad they don't take it.
The second that axe goes flying, something in him knows none of them are coming out of this alive, and that feels good.
Maybe a couple of them rethink their choice when they realize the fate of that axe. It certainly doesn't meet its target; it slams into a quickly Signed shield thrown up immediately, bouncing off harmlessly and clattering into the dust at Geralt's feet.
A few months ago, this would be a whole moment. He'd be proud, he'd shoot a look at Geralt that practically screamed a boyish: look at that, I did the thing! That training they struggled through actually means something.
That doesn't happen now. Now, he thinks only of the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, and of the fastest way to get his sword down somebody's throat. He goes straight for the ringleader. It's not exactly subtle, it's not exactly strategic, and a couple of them move immediately to head him off at the pass. He's not even remotely deterred. It just means he's throwing down with two of them instead of one, and that should be harder than it is. It should take more effort for another human to manage them. But it doesn't.
A few seconds in, one of them seems to be coming to the terrifying realization that their numbers advantage may not actually be much of an advantage at all. Before this fight's over, he'll make an unsuccessful attempt to flee. He'll be the one Dean thinks about the most after the Mark is cured and gone. )