abraxaslogs | INTRO LOG #2

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INTRO LOG #2

Intro Log #2

It has been two months now since the initial group of summonings first took place. Castle Thorne, or at least the part above ground, is buzzing with a vibrant air of hope following the 'success' at the Singularity. Eager smiles and excited chattering are to be found in nearly every corner of the castle and surrounding town. The honored guests may find grateful looks turned their way more often than not. A new and brighter day seems to be dawning on the kingdom.

In the dungeons it's a different story entirely. The mood is somber and uneasy. The prisoner taken for trial has yet to return, and no word has come regarding her or her fate. There has been no mention of any further trials as of yet and guards seem to have little patience for unruly behavior or even conversation. Some seem to not even look at or acknowledge the prisoners at all.

[ Feel free to continue threads from the TDM here or start your own! As cell and room assignments will be short-lived due to this month's event, you're free to assume whichever cellmates and roommates you like instead of officially signing up as long as there are ICly no more than four people in a cell or room at once. ]

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Monsters, no foolin'? You mean like vampires and shit, werewolves? That's crazy.

[ For her, it's the stuff of movies and TV shows, books. But then again, in the past year, she's learned that all kinds of things are out there that she doesn't understand. She's seen her ~~cult leader~~ idol fly and appear out of nowhere. Also he eats people sometimes, when he's angry.

She is completely captivated with the man.

Stretching her legs out in front of her, she leans back on her hands, glancing over at the treetops she can barely see in the distance. Vegas doesn't have trees, not really. She's missed them. ]

What about technology and stuff? Or are you guys still all Middle Ages like these people?

[ A lift to his eyebrows as he pauses. Out of everyone who's made known that monsters existing is a startling fact to them, none have actually named the ones in his. ]

You've heard of them. [ But not seen them, it sounds like. Perhaps they were once there and long faded into myth. Who knows?

As she sits back on her hands, he gives the ball a spin between his. ]

This world isn't as foreign to me as it appears to be for some. If that's what you mean.

[ Not that he's been granted much of a view of it through the bars. Though the magic that saturates this land—he's gathered they rely on it more than anyone on the Continent for their needs. ]

Well, yeah. They’re like the original monsters, I’m pretty sure every place has their own versions. Then you got zombies and ghouls and all kinda other bogeymen. It must be super scary and dangerous to have ‘em wandering around in real life.

[ She smiles at him, clicking the toes of her awful prison-issued sandals together. Her toenails match her fingernails, and her ankles swim in the loose, itchy pants. She chuckles. ]

So that just means there’s a ton of stuff you haven’t tried. It ain’t been invented yet.

[ The original what? He looks vaguely amused. What in the hell is she going on about? It's not unlike telling him she believes a bear is the original forest animal. They're not...they just—exist. ] Are monsters only stories to you?

[ He doesn't add—it's true, they're dangerous, but they've long dwindled, too. Really, he's met men who've killed far more than some beast hibernating in its cave deep in the woods. But that's neither here nor there. ]

Does it? [ The yet is interesting. None of them come from the same sphere, and he imagines what's invented in one may never need to be created in another. Still. He thinks of the strange things he stumbled over in the Horizon; it isn't the first time he's wondered what else is out there.

He finally tosses the ball back to her. ] Enlighten me some time.

Only stories. If anything like that existed where I’m from, no one has ever been able to prove it. And even if they were real, they’re probably dead now anyway. Like I said, superflu killed most animals too.

[ She catches the ball, considering what life would be like without modern conveniences. Living through the collapse of society was bad enough, but at least she’d been able to shower through most of it.

She thanks her lucky stars that she was born in the 1990s and not the 1490s. ]

Oh, I plan to, sugar. Dungeon’s not exactly conducive to fun. And my world is fun.

Edited 2021-08-30 05:48 (UTC)

[ There's a thoughtful noise in reply. One way to look at it. ] Stories come from somewhere.

[ Even he's had folk refuse to believe in some creatures or tell of ones that never existed; supposes it isn't that unusual Julie might live in a world where no one thinks they were ever real. If the monsters simply died out long before her time. They're just about there on the Continent as it is.

He gives a quiet snort. My world, she says, as though she's not spent the past minutes telling him of its plague-swept corpses. Fun. A purely morbid remark, maybe. He lingers on that a second or two—leaves it for another time.

His gaze settles on her, deadpan as ever. ] Without vampires or werewolves? Hard to imagine.

[ Her mistake for not clarifying better -- she means her world now, in the new society she's joined, where she's a member of the chosen, absolutely hedonistic elite. Life is pretty great when all that's expected of you is to party as hard as you want, 24/7.

Life outside of the Inferno, though, that's another story. She refuses to go back to it.

She giggles. She's watched enough movies to know that the only thing vampires and werewolves are good for is, apparently, an exotic fuck before you inevitably have to kill them. Or, y'know, marry them. Tossing the ball back, she brushes her hair over one shoulder, running her fingers through the ends to loosen the tangles from not having access to conditioner and hairbrushes. ]

It's only fun 'til one of 'em takes a bite outta you.

[ Fair. Though a part of him had almost expected her to have stated it the other way around. Certainly a handful back home who feel the same.

The ball lands back in his hands. He watches the bounce of her tangled waves, the way her nails catch the sunlight. Tries to imagine her walking through this dying world she talks of, and still can't quite. ]

What do you have, then?

[ It's a superficial curiosity, but curiosity nonetheless. No animals, few people. Must be something, if she's finding life suits her well. (What are they even eating, without any animals thriving?) ]

[ Julie prefers her vampires and werewolves on TV and played by gorgeous Hollywood actors, thanks very much.

She beams, like the very thought of New Vegas makes her deeply happy. And she was happy, she thinks, even if it was occasionally dangerous there. Beats the hell out of Pratt, even before the plague. ]

We got everything you could ever think of. No rules, no shame. No more feelin' like the whole world has just got its boot on your neck. I mean, why live with all the bullshit when you're the last people on Earth, right?

In Vegas, you do whatever you want, whenever you want. Eat, drink, fuck, fight, it doesn't matter. And Vegas was an amusement park for grown-ups before Trips ever got there, anyway.

[ The pieces fall into place, suddenly. His expression does not change; there's just a vague noise of acknowledgement. She'd hardly be the first to despise living under laws decided by others within their high castle. ]

If you were only ever bound by its rules, then you were never meant long for that world either way.

[ If the plague had not driven her to this fringe society she's seemingly found for herself, something else would've sooner or later. Matters little, in the end. There's a faint level of wariness when he looks at her, born more out of the fact that he still hasn't fully pinned her down than the idea of anything she may or may not have done. He doesn't know, at the moment, what those things are. Doesn't want to know, either. His life is far simpler when he just does not know certain things about people unless he's specifically being paid to find out. (Even then, half the time, it isn't worth the coin.)

Which he isn't. He's just here to throw this ball and avoid Yennefer until they're locked back up again. ]

That world was the only option before. You wanna stay fed and safe, you do what you're told. Go to work, run up your credit cards, be nice and smile and don't talk back. Like bein' slowly smothered.

[ She really, really hated life before the whole world fell apart. There only seemed to be a dead-end life wasted because she didn't have money or power to escape it all. And then everyone started to drop dead and she was left to discover how great life could be when you weren't trapped in the rat race. ]

The society we're makin', it's about being who you are down in your soul, and not apologizing for it.

[ He's listening, and the more she speaks, the easier it is to notice he only vaguely seems aware of what she means. Their worlds are simply too different. Besides, what society would he have even experienced, in his world or hers? Ones made by those who want nothing to do with his kind except when they find a monster they fear more? He's lived his entire life outside of it all—not by choice, but nor does he desire otherwise. It's been too many decades for him to entertain the thoughts of belonging that might've lurked in his younger days. ]

I wouldn't know. [ He bounces the ball back. ] I've monsters and a horse in mine.

[ In theory. But when it is that simple, it feels like that's all he needs. All he really wants—without princesses, without wishes. Without Destiny. In some ways, if he'd been here alone—if Jaskier and Yennefer hadn't been dragged in alongside him—he might've considered the steady predictable days in these cells a short reprieve from all the shit spiralling out back on the Continent. ]

[ Ironically, if they could wrap their minds around each other's worlds, Geralt would probably find more acceptance in Vegas than he'd ever had in his life. People in New Vegas didn't judge based on history or appearance -- as long as you obeyed Flagg's single law, you were instantly considered one of them. Even the raving lunatic who ultimately blew them all sky high was welcomed with open arms.

Maybe that was why Julie loved it so much. She'd never fit in in Kansas.

She catches the ball and considers how small his home must be, to traverse solely by horseback. It had taken her weeks to get to Vegas, and she was able to drive through two hundred miles of it. ]

So you just wander around until you find a monster?

[ In return, Geralt has no concept of how vast hers is. It hasn't even occurred to him it might consist of multiple continents. This sphere they're on, it's a singular land mass like his own—at least from what Jaskier has shown him from the maps—and he's imagined all the others much like this, too. ]

Until I find someone willing to pay for one gone. Then I kill it.

[ That's it. And he misses it, wandering. Misses his damn horse. She's likely gone—or maybe the merchant has simply kept the mare. Sold her, now that the Witcher he carted all the way to his farm vanished into thin air.

If he steps out of here in one piece, first thing he's getting is another horse. He's tired of seeing the same four walls everyday. ]

Why don't they kill it themselves?

[ Her brow furrows quite deeply at the idea of people just waiting around to be saved. Do they not have weapons, or what? For some reason, she is perceiving the threat of a vampire to be equivalent to a very large razorback, and you'd just take a shotgun and put a bullet between the eyes.

Well, it might be more difficult to fight stuff if you don't have access to guns, she supposes.

The ball comes back at him as she tilts her head to one side. ]

So you don't have a personal life then. No family if you're just always on the move, right?

[ His eyebrow lifts. Some do, in truth. Knights. Soldiers. Enough of them together, and a common monster isn't difficult to take care of. More and more, there isn't a need for a Witcher. Just as well when there are hardly any left. ]

Same reason you don't slaughter your own cow every time you want a stew.

[ It's just—a job. That he does, when others have better things to attend to and can afford it. Farms, shops. Braiding their hair. Things that don't involve wandering through some fucking swamp.

There's a short pause when he catches the ball this time. ]

No. [ He thinks of the girl in the Horizon, that cabin that had felt almost like settling with its two beds and a simple hearth. Then it was gone. His mistrust of why Thorne granted them access in the first place is not the only reason he hasn't returned since. ] Wouldn't want one, either.

Are monsters that common? I mean, how can people live if wendigos and shit are runnin' around their towns all the time?

[ After all, if killing them is a steady job, that must mean there are a lot to kill. Because he's talking about poor people, right? She can't imagine that monster slaughtering services are exclusively rendered to royalty or something.

She laughs again, looks at the sky with a sigh. ]

Yeah, me neither. Kids are fuckin' awful, all gross and snotty and sticky. I didn't like kids when I was one. Seems real lonely, though, wanderin' around alone.

Used to be. Less these days.

[ He tosses the ball back, without getting much more into it. Into exactly why he's still here, doing this, why he isn't retiring as Jaskier has brought up more than once. It isn't a topic he's interested in examining.

He gives a small huff. Sticky and troublesome. None of which are reasons for him, but it's a simple way of looking at it, and maybe Geralt can appreciate that. That there seems to be something inherently uncomplicated in how Julie prefers to view both her world and his. After a second, his gaze shifts. He doesn't quite shrug, but he might as well have. Alone is not what he always is, but it's where he always seems to end up. It amounts to the same thing. ]

It's easier. [ Perhaps she'll know what he means. He can't imagine she's keen on being attached to anyone when they've all died around her—but maybe the opposite's been true. That when there's no one, everyone who's left becomes important. ]

[ Julie doesn't push, but she pivots, interested more in what appears to be an industry than she is in Geralt's internal struggle with the whole thing. She imagines it to be like the alligator hunting industry, wonders if people eat monster meat and wear boots made from their skin. ]

You got any cool monster souvenirs? I mean, obviously not here, but back home.

[ It's easier all right, because she can spend endless time dwelling on the fear that a long lineage of shitty people raising other shitty people makes her ill-equipped to care for a child. That she thinks it's cruel to bring a new child into the world she lives in, at least now.

That her feelings about it don't matter anyway because she's fucking dead.

'Kids are gross' is a lot less words. ]

What about a wife? Or like, your parents?

[ Souvenir takes him a second to interpret. As in, a trophy? ] Sold them.

[ He has exactly one horse and one pack, and none of it has room for bits and pieces from some sopping wet creature in the swamp. Though plenty collect. Pretty sure he's sold a head once to a man who wanted it mounted, has probably told people since that he killed it himself instead of forking over a few orens for the prize from a Witcher. Not that he gives a damn.

An edge slides into his voice. His gaze flicks upward towards her. ]

No. [ There's the woman who gave birth to him, and the man who raised him. Neither of which, he suspects, are what she means when she says parents. But he doesn't want to get into it, so he diverts, a little. ] I have an old bastard of a teacher.

[ There's fondness there, though, when he says it. ]

I had a cousin wore a necklace with a bear's tooth that he yanked out. I always thought that was kinda neat, in a messed up way. I'd wear a monster tooth, though.

[ Wow, Geralt. "Do you have a wife" is a perfectly normal question that people ask each other, you don't have to get all weird and touchy. And Julie definitely notices it, but she doesn't say anything. Partially because it would be rude but mostly because he is incredibly hot, so she didn't want him to have a wife anyway. ]

What did he teach you?

Mm. [ Well. Good to know her tastes in fine jewellery.

Fortunately for Julie, and unfortunately for Geralt, his relationship status at all times is summed up as fucking complicated. Also currently non-existent, given he's been crammed in a cell with three people and eyes on all sides. Yennefer's sudden appearance has made none of this simpler.

There's a lift to his eyebrows. A lot can be said about what Vesemir has taught him, but brevity is his default. ]

To kill monsters. [ Or just to kill. Out of the corner of his eye, there's a shuffle to the guards that tell him their spot in the sun is about up. He spins the ball back toward her one last time. ] If you ever land in my sphere, maybe I'll have a tooth for you.

[ She only cares because, in her experience, married guys are nothing but trouble and drama, and she's already in prison, she doesn't need any more on her plate.

But no, not behind bars. But she has already made up her mind that, somehow, some way, she is going to climb that man like a tree. ]

I'd never take it off. [ She catches the ball as the guards call time and start yelling at everyone to get back inside. Standing up, she tosses the ball over her shoulder and dusts off her trousers. ] Don't be a stranger.

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INTRO LOG #2

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