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To talk to him in person, you'll need to be in Cadens or go to his domain, a snowy mountain fortress. Yard is open; doors are locked. If he isn't around, leave a delivery with the white wolf.
To talk to him in person, you'll need to be in Cadens or go to his domain, a snowy mountain fortress. Yard is open; doors are locked. If he isn't around, leave a delivery with the white wolf.
( the realization comes to him slowly, embarrassingly so. between the events leading up to libertas, to its destruction and then the joined scramble of helping, peter thinks he's been pretty neglectful in so much else. it's easy, in a way, to fall back to the habit of working alongside tony, to the grandeur that brings with it — big ideas and big hope, some selfishly stolen time they won't ever get back otherwise.
but there's a time and place to take the blinders off, as it were. sticking his head back into the proverbial sand of invention and losing track of everyone else equally as important won't do him — or anyone — any good and maybe that's what prompts this venture in the first place.
followed very closely by genuine curiosity — he hasn't been to geralt's horizon before. its the culmination of this that finds him within the courtyard of the keep that looks cool in ways that new york never really did: fantastical, old, evident history shoved into every nook and cranny.
he clears his throat: ) Geralt? It's Peter! Peter Parker? ( in case there's...more peters running around? maybe? )
but there's a time and place to take the blinders off, as it were. sticking his head back into the proverbial sand of invention and losing track of everyone else equally as important won't do him — or anyone — any good and maybe that's what prompts this venture in the first place.
followed very closely by genuine curiosity — he hasn't been to geralt's horizon before. its the culmination of this that finds him within the courtyard of the keep that looks cool in ways that new york never really did: fantastical, old, evident history shoved into every nook and cranny.
he clears his throat: ) Geralt? It's Peter! Peter Parker? ( in case there's...more peters running around? maybe? )
[ Lucky for Peter, Geralt lives a life where he often goes months, even years, without seeing a friend. He knows Peter is all right through Sam; beyond that, it doesn't strike him as odd that Peter's been elusive. Geralt is not exactly easy to find, either, though he's been in the city more and more as of late. Ever since the destruction. Seems he's needed closer by.
He's inside the keep, underground, considering the empty space below now taken apart. Part of him keeps expecting the room to rebuild itself at any time. So far, it has not. He comes to look, anyhow—or was, when the boy's voice interrupts him. Is that...?
The thick wooden doors swing open. Geralt steps into the snowy yard. There's surprise, then a hint of concern. A large white wolf follows at his heel. ]
Is everything all right? [ This is not someone who frequently receives social visits. ]
He's inside the keep, underground, considering the empty space below now taken apart. Part of him keeps expecting the room to rebuild itself at any time. So far, it has not. He comes to look, anyhow—or was, when the boy's voice interrupts him. Is that...?
The thick wooden doors swing open. Geralt steps into the snowy yard. There's surprise, then a hint of concern. A large white wolf follows at his heel. ]
Is everything all right? [ This is not someone who frequently receives social visits. ]
[ maybe it is their fate - to want something so much, and yet to continue to fight it, only to find that the exact moment they relent the other is already gone. maybe it wasn't ever really a wish after all, but a curse to always, always keep them off track. yennefer feels it now, and it is a familiar feeling - that hole, that lack, the small spark somewhere deep down that she loses hope she'll ever be able to let it grow back to a flame.
and just as it is like her to do, she misses it, but does not let her reach for it. she offers the only things she can, the information to keep ciri safe, and swallows back all the rest. she is on her feet when geralt tells her to keep an eye on her, and she huffs, once, trying to bring that height back to her spine. that edge to her tone that is so her, and yet also unlike her when she's around geralt. ] Obviously.
[ it does not dawn on her at first, but instead in the moments following - of what has just been offered. of what geralt has done. whatever tone she'd been attempting to build back up drops as she blinks and turns back to him, realizing, and letting it settle.
it lasts all of a portion of a tick, until the look on her face passes and geralt is also standing - and perhaps that is just one more missed moment between them. before now yennefer is straightening the fabric of her blouse, is pressing against the front of her trousers, is about to begin to turn to the stairs when geralt speaks again and the words cause her to still.
it feels like another kind of offering, whether or not geralt means it as such. yennefer catches his eyes and does hold them, and he can probably see the way she wrestles with more than one reaction to what he says. how she doesn't need the help (as he stated), how much she'll never admit that a part of her is surprised that he would give it at all. what wins, in the end, is a small, tired, somewhat broken upturn to her lips. ]
And whether or not you believe me- you have mine, too.
[ yennefer does not wait for his answer, instead turning to the stairs and disappearing from the horizon, just as her foot would have made contact with the first step. ]
and just as it is like her to do, she misses it, but does not let her reach for it. she offers the only things she can, the information to keep ciri safe, and swallows back all the rest. she is on her feet when geralt tells her to keep an eye on her, and she huffs, once, trying to bring that height back to her spine. that edge to her tone that is so her, and yet also unlike her when she's around geralt. ] Obviously.
[ it does not dawn on her at first, but instead in the moments following - of what has just been offered. of what geralt has done. whatever tone she'd been attempting to build back up drops as she blinks and turns back to him, realizing, and letting it settle.
it lasts all of a portion of a tick, until the look on her face passes and geralt is also standing - and perhaps that is just one more missed moment between them. before now yennefer is straightening the fabric of her blouse, is pressing against the front of her trousers, is about to begin to turn to the stairs when geralt speaks again and the words cause her to still.
it feels like another kind of offering, whether or not geralt means it as such. yennefer catches his eyes and does hold them, and he can probably see the way she wrestles with more than one reaction to what he says. how she doesn't need the help (as he stated), how much she'll never admit that a part of her is surprised that he would give it at all. what wins, in the end, is a small, tired, somewhat broken upturn to her lips. ]
And whether or not you believe me- you have mine, too.
[ yennefer does not wait for his answer, instead turning to the stairs and disappearing from the horizon, just as her foot would have made contact with the first step. ]
Edited 2022-11-20 23:49 (UTC)
I've told her.
[ It comes out more sharply than intended, exasperated. ]
When we first-- met. Here. [ What shouldn't have been a first meeting at all. ]
I'll explain further if that's what she wants. [ Her eyes search Geralt's as she says this, watching his reaction. He's been so distrustful of Yennefer lately, she can't help but be surprised that he's the one suggesting this.
He also doesn't seem nearly as wary of Istredd as Ciri had expected, or feels is warranted. ]
Geralt. He's already a threat. I just don't know how much he really understands.
[ It comes out more sharply than intended, exasperated. ]
When we first-- met. Here. [ What shouldn't have been a first meeting at all. ]
I'll explain further if that's what she wants. [ Her eyes search Geralt's as she says this, watching his reaction. He's been so distrustful of Yennefer lately, she can't help but be surprised that he's the one suggesting this.
He also doesn't seem nearly as wary of Istredd as Ciri had expected, or feels is warranted. ]
Geralt. He's already a threat. I just don't know how much he really understands.
[ He doesn't mean that. He means the rest—what they've since concluded about her ability to affect the Singularity, after they fled Thorne. But if Ciri wishes to speak to Yennefer on her own, then that is her choice.
He finds himself more distracted by the question of Istredd than Yennefer. He understands why Ciri sees Istredd as an existing threat solely for what he knows. He does. But for Geralt, how Istredd came about that information is important. He stumbled on it. He didn't go looking deliberately. In the end, the man did help him. Geralt may not like him, but he can acknowledge that.
He sits on a chair so that they're eye level. ] I was sent to Istredd by Triss. He's a friend of hers. I don't wholly trust him, but we did begin as allies.
[ A friend of Yennefer's, too. Triss, though. Triss is—she's always been good to him, to Vesemir. To Ciri.
He studies Ciri for a moment. He knows how he would proceed where Istredd is concerned. But this is not about Istredd entirely. It's about Ciri. Making sure she feels safe; equally making sure she will not do something rash because she's afraid of what lies ahead.
When he asks, it is a genuine question. He wants to know what she needs, but also how she might decide to act if she were to give it some thought, without his input. She's not a child anymore. And he won't always be here to guide her. ]
What would you like to do?
He finds himself more distracted by the question of Istredd than Yennefer. He understands why Ciri sees Istredd as an existing threat solely for what he knows. He does. But for Geralt, how Istredd came about that information is important. He stumbled on it. He didn't go looking deliberately. In the end, the man did help him. Geralt may not like him, but he can acknowledge that.
He sits on a chair so that they're eye level. ] I was sent to Istredd by Triss. He's a friend of hers. I don't wholly trust him, but we did begin as allies.
[ A friend of Yennefer's, too. Triss, though. Triss is—she's always been good to him, to Vesemir. To Ciri.
He studies Ciri for a moment. He knows how he would proceed where Istredd is concerned. But this is not about Istredd entirely. It's about Ciri. Making sure she feels safe; equally making sure she will not do something rash because she's afraid of what lies ahead.
When he asks, it is a genuine question. He wants to know what she needs, but also how she might decide to act if she were to give it some thought, without his input. She's not a child anymore. And he won't always be here to guide her. ]
What would you like to do?
Edited (i mixed up my own timelines ) 2022-11-22 11:23 (UTC)
[ He isn't wrong; she'll need to talk to Yennefer, and they'll figure something out, but right now, Ciri just isn't in the mood to think about the best long-term approach. She's clearly agitated, and Geralt's invariable calm is starting to get on her nerves.
So he's a friend of Triss's and Yennefer's, and Geralt's supposed ally, and no one had thought to even mention the mage to her?
Ciri clicks her tongue in annoyance, throwing up her hands. ]
I don't know, Geralt.
I want to make sure he keeps his fucking mouth shut.
I am not planning on leaving here, and if he wants me to go back to the Continent because he thinks I'm some special fucking savior, I'd sooner cut his throat.
So he's a friend of Triss's and Yennefer's, and Geralt's supposed ally, and no one had thought to even mention the mage to her?
Ciri clicks her tongue in annoyance, throwing up her hands. ]
I don't know, Geralt.
I want to make sure he keeps his fucking mouth shut.
I am not planning on leaving here, and if he wants me to go back to the Continent because he thinks I'm some special fucking savior, I'd sooner cut his throat.
[ Now is possibly not the best time to have this conversation, given. All that's going on. He can't tell how much is Ciri and how much her stems from what may be affecting her. ]
Ciri. [ He's firm, but. Invariable calm is right. Geralt is near impossible to not be calm, even when the situation should warrant otherwise. Often useful; occasionally a failing of his under certain circumstances. ] I will not let him do anything to you. But we cannot act on fear alone. Talk to Yennefer first. She'll have insight I do not. Then we'll speak further.
[ That's all he will do, for now, because despite his general distrust of Istredd and mages alike, despite the fact that he would consider Istredd tripping into his own death a viable solution of no loss, the man has done nothing wrong except open his fucking mouth too wide. He isn't happy about it, but he can't reasonably take Istredd's head for it.
Yet. Time may tell. It depends, frankly, on who else Istredd has spoken to. Something only Yennefer will be able to determine. ]
Ciri. [ He's firm, but. Invariable calm is right. Geralt is near impossible to not be calm, even when the situation should warrant otherwise. Often useful; occasionally a failing of his under certain circumstances. ] I will not let him do anything to you. But we cannot act on fear alone. Talk to Yennefer first. She'll have insight I do not. Then we'll speak further.
[ That's all he will do, for now, because despite his general distrust of Istredd and mages alike, despite the fact that he would consider Istredd tripping into his own death a viable solution of no loss, the man has done nothing wrong except open his fucking mouth too wide. He isn't happy about it, but he can't reasonably take Istredd's head for it.
Yet. Time may tell. It depends, frankly, on who else Istredd has spoken to. Something only Yennefer will be able to determine. ]
Fine. I'll talk to her.
[ Not like she can do much else, anyway. Not from all the way over here. Istredd is rather lucky he wasn't summoned by the Free Cities, within reach of Ciri's real life blade. If he'd thought she was difficult to deal with in the Horizon, he hasn't seen the half of it. ]
And I'm not afraid of him.
[ Not like she can do much else, anyway. Not from all the way over here. Istredd is rather lucky he wasn't summoned by the Free Cities, within reach of Ciri's real life blade. If he'd thought she was difficult to deal with in the Horizon, he hasn't seen the half of it. ]
And I'm not afraid of him.
[ They're all lucky, in truth. Geralt's concern is not about Istredd. The man can lie in the grave he dug for all he gives a shit. It's about the consequences of hasty action, of choices that haunt you for decades whether they are right or wrong or somewhere in between. A lesson he's learned tenfold. He supposes that isn't something he can always protect Ciri from.
He still wants to try. He sure as fuck doesn't want Ciri to be the first to discover what happens when one of the Summoned is killed by another from an opposing territory.
If it comes down to it, he'll bear that burden. Not her. ]
I know you're not. [ It is not the man she fears. It's what he may do. The layers of unknowns that Istredd represents. Geralt doesn't say it; she knows, he thinks, and he isn't trying to make her feel worse by laying her innermost thoughts bare, true or not. ] I promise what needs to be done, we'll face it together. But protecting our home, our place, in this world—it also means making sure we don't invite the sword of the nations directly upon us. At least not without some sleep and a bit of time chopping up the risen dead first. Hm?
[ Talk, as he well knows, can only resolve so much boiled over tension. Sometimes one simply needs to take off a few limbs, and there are plenty of undead crawling about. She can even imagine Istredd's head on them if it helps. ]
He still wants to try. He sure as fuck doesn't want Ciri to be the first to discover what happens when one of the Summoned is killed by another from an opposing territory.
If it comes down to it, he'll bear that burden. Not her. ]
I know you're not. [ It is not the man she fears. It's what he may do. The layers of unknowns that Istredd represents. Geralt doesn't say it; she knows, he thinks, and he isn't trying to make her feel worse by laying her innermost thoughts bare, true or not. ] I promise what needs to be done, we'll face it together. But protecting our home, our place, in this world—it also means making sure we don't invite the sword of the nations directly upon us. At least not without some sleep and a bit of time chopping up the risen dead first. Hm?
[ Talk, as he well knows, can only resolve so much boiled over tension. Sometimes one simply needs to take off a few limbs, and there are plenty of undead crawling about. She can even imagine Istredd's head on them if it helps. ]
Edited 2022-11-25 03:32 (UTC)
[ Ciri narrows her eyes at him, and clicks her tongue loudly. Impatient and annoyed. ]
You think I don't know that? I'm not stupid.
Do not talk to me like I'm a child, Geralt.
[ She snaps, and moves to walk past him. If she bumps his shoulder on the way out, it's entirely on passive-aggressive purpose.
Yes, she will be imagining Istredd's head on some of those undead that need to be chopped into tiny little bits until they stop moving. No, she isn't throwing a tantrum. Why would anyone think that? ]
Don't wait up.
You think I don't know that? I'm not stupid.
Do not talk to me like I'm a child, Geralt.
[ She snaps, and moves to walk past him. If she bumps his shoulder on the way out, it's entirely on passive-aggressive purpose.
Yes, she will be imagining Istredd's head on some of those undead that need to be chopped into tiny little bits until they stop moving. No, she isn't throwing a tantrum. Why would anyone think that? ]
Don't wait up.
christmas morning; you have to thread with me to get the present, non-optional
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princessvegas
2022-12-25 03:35 am (UTC)(link)
[ Julie knows that the dates don't exactly line up, and that Geralt still doesn't understand exactly what Christmas is, and also that she is skirting her own line of comfort in terms of clearly defined affection. That's the odd thing about their situationship, she finds -- the longer it goes, the harder it is to determine what might be too much, too close to a label. Christmas presents, or at least this one specific one, makes her feel like maybe she's putting too much of herself out there; she is keenly aware that she is going to feel like shit if he hates it, if only because she put a lot of effort into it.
But she can't just not give him a gift, considering she got everyone else gifts. And she really did spend a lot of time on this, on working it out and creating it. So she puts it in a box and wraps it along with the others, but she doesn't deliver it alongside Jaskier's and Ciri's.
Instead, she makes him come to her, in her living room where there is a real, traditional Christmas tree she conjured, lights and all. The smell of balsam is somewhat stark in the middle of the desert, and the sun is harsh for the winter. The only thing under the tree is a box wrapped in gold paper, which she hands to him before she sits back down. ]
I know it's not a holiday for you, but merry Christmas.
But she can't just not give him a gift, considering she got everyone else gifts. And she really did spend a lot of time on this, on working it out and creating it. So she puts it in a box and wraps it along with the others, but she doesn't deliver it alongside Jaskier's and Ciri's.
Instead, she makes him come to her, in her living room where there is a real, traditional Christmas tree she conjured, lights and all. The smell of balsam is somewhat stark in the middle of the desert, and the sun is harsh for the winter. The only thing under the tree is a box wrapped in gold paper, which she hands to him before she sits back down. ]
I know it's not a holiday for you, but merry Christmas.
[ After the previous year, Geralt has learned presents happen around this time for nearly everyone across multiple spheres. Dark winter days mean folk want something to look forward to, he supposes. He's spent a bit of time searching for gifts in return, not because he gives a shit about celebrations—whether Christmas or Yule or the Solstice—but because these are people important to him. Maybe he's growing sentimental in his old age. Who the fuck knows? He prefers not to think on it too deeply.
Besides. He'll have always gotten something for Ciri. What's one or two more? (Ironically—or perhaps as expected—his oldest friend will receive no present, though he will get one from Jaskier regardless. That's simply how it is between them.)
When Julie invites him, he slips her gift into a pocket and shows up at her door, letting himself in. The smell of fir is both familiar and odd to find in Cadens—and he peers at the brightly decorated tree for a moment before the neatly wrapped box lands in his hands. ]
I believe it is now. [ He smiles a little. He's apparently adopted Halloween. He can adopt Christmas. The date's only a bit off from Yule. Close enough.
He sets the box on the nearest surface, unwrapping the gold paper with some care. He's curious. What he'll find inside. ]
Besides. He'll have always gotten something for Ciri. What's one or two more? (Ironically—or perhaps as expected—his oldest friend will receive no present, though he will get one from Jaskier regardless. That's simply how it is between them.)
When Julie invites him, he slips her gift into a pocket and shows up at her door, letting himself in. The smell of fir is both familiar and odd to find in Cadens—and he peers at the brightly decorated tree for a moment before the neatly wrapped box lands in his hands. ]
I believe it is now. [ He smiles a little. He's apparently adopted Halloween. He can adopt Christmas. The date's only a bit off from Yule. Close enough.
He sets the box on the nearest surface, unwrapping the gold paper with some care. He's curious. What he'll find inside. ]
[ His answer catches her slightly off-guard, and she blinks before she smiles too. While she's aware that her particular holidays are overrepresented amongst the Summoned, it still feels like something special, to have it taken to heart. Like sharing something meaningful.
He may or may not recognize what's in the box as a snow globe -- she hasn't actually considered whether he might have ever seen anything like it before. The wooden base is dark and smooth, with a small indent on the top. The globe is fully spherical, closed glass that can be lifted from the base, if desired. Though not noticeable, it has been charmed to be unbreakable.
Inside the globe, there is a painted sculpture, a castle built on a mountain. The grass is green with snow on top, the mountain given little cliffs and even rogue branches here and there. The castle is as detailed as can be at that size, a replica of Kaer Morhen. Julie sat for days in the Horizon, sitting at the base of the mountains and sketching it for herself, over and over until she could see individual stones in her mind, to carry the image back into the real world. A tiny, animate horse the same color as the current Roach is at a trough in the courtyard, while a tiny white wolf prowls the gate.
The snow that falls inside the globe is also magical, constant and steady. There's a slight fog around the peak of the mountain that originates the snow, which only piles to an aesthetically pleasing point before disappearing and falling again.
It took her weeks to get the various elements right, starting from crafting the miniature keep from clay and painting it, to working out the various magical elements. There was more than one shattered ball of glass amongst the attempts. ]
Sorry if I got any of it wrong. I tried to remember everythin' I could.
[ Honestly, she's proud of herself even if he hates it. She managed every aspect she wanted to. ]
He may or may not recognize what's in the box as a snow globe -- she hasn't actually considered whether he might have ever seen anything like it before. The wooden base is dark and smooth, with a small indent on the top. The globe is fully spherical, closed glass that can be lifted from the base, if desired. Though not noticeable, it has been charmed to be unbreakable.
Inside the globe, there is a painted sculpture, a castle built on a mountain. The grass is green with snow on top, the mountain given little cliffs and even rogue branches here and there. The castle is as detailed as can be at that size, a replica of Kaer Morhen. Julie sat for days in the Horizon, sitting at the base of the mountains and sketching it for herself, over and over until she could see individual stones in her mind, to carry the image back into the real world. A tiny, animate horse the same color as the current Roach is at a trough in the courtyard, while a tiny white wolf prowls the gate.
The snow that falls inside the globe is also magical, constant and steady. There's a slight fog around the peak of the mountain that originates the snow, which only piles to an aesthetically pleasing point before disappearing and falling again.
It took her weeks to get the various elements right, starting from crafting the miniature keep from clay and painting it, to working out the various magical elements. There was more than one shattered ball of glass amongst the attempts. ]
Sorry if I got any of it wrong. I tried to remember everythin' I could.
[ Honestly, she's proud of herself even if he hates it. She managed every aspect she wanted to. ]
[ Though he isn't entirely certain what he expected, it is not to find Kaer Morhen tucked inside a glass orb. She's placed it there with both the bits he only added in the Horizon and the ones that were always there: the wolf, the broken gate, tiny skeletons buried the snow. The swirling white flakes gleam when he holds it up in the light. For a moment or two, he watches it, unblinking.
Then he looks up at her. ] You made this?
[ Of course she had. Every piece is there, down to the smallest crack in the stone and the faint scars on the stalking wolf. He's seen her conjure objects, but nothing near this finely detailed. It must've taken her an age to do. It's beautiful. More than that, no one's ever thought to preserve the deteriorating fortress before. Why would they? But she has. There's something special in knowing it'll always be standing somewhere now, in miniature. ]
Makes me want to step inside it. [ The scenery is absurdly lifelike. He adds nothing else, though he places the orb back on its stand with a care that says more than words will.
Ciri will love it, too. He already knows where he wants to put it when he's home.
But first, he offers Julie a small leather pouch, unwrapped except for the cord that ties it together. He's had it a while. Acquired a few months back, after a bit of searching (killing). Inside is a curved fang—different, naturally, than the wyvern fang he'd made, but a monster's tooth nonetheless. A real one. He'd considered on and off, the notion of a gift he technically already gave, but he's noticed the way she's never taken it off in the Horizon. He thinks, perhaps, she should have one she can wear in the physical world. Made from a creature he's actually hunted, instead of crafted out of thin air.
The real difference, though, is that the tooth is set in the strange metal substance from Nocwich—designed to attune and absorb magic. On the back, a few Elder runes are etched. Like nearly everything Geralt gives, it's more than just a decorative piece. ]
Then he looks up at her. ] You made this?
[ Of course she had. Every piece is there, down to the smallest crack in the stone and the faint scars on the stalking wolf. He's seen her conjure objects, but nothing near this finely detailed. It must've taken her an age to do. It's beautiful. More than that, no one's ever thought to preserve the deteriorating fortress before. Why would they? But she has. There's something special in knowing it'll always be standing somewhere now, in miniature. ]
Makes me want to step inside it. [ The scenery is absurdly lifelike. He adds nothing else, though he places the orb back on its stand with a care that says more than words will.
Ciri will love it, too. He already knows where he wants to put it when he's home.
But first, he offers Julie a small leather pouch, unwrapped except for the cord that ties it together. He's had it a while. Acquired a few months back, after a bit of searching (killing). Inside is a curved fang—different, naturally, than the wyvern fang he'd made, but a monster's tooth nonetheless. A real one. He'd considered on and off, the notion of a gift he technically already gave, but he's noticed the way she's never taken it off in the Horizon. He thinks, perhaps, she should have one she can wear in the physical world. Made from a creature he's actually hunted, instead of crafted out of thin air.
The real difference, though, is that the tooth is set in the strange metal substance from Nocwich—designed to attune and absorb magic. On the back, a few Elder runes are etched. Like nearly everything Geralt gives, it's more than just a decorative piece. ]
Uh-huh. [ A breath she didn't even realize was caught in her chest is released. It's one thing to know that she's proud of herself for it, but it does matter to her that he likes it. ] I made the pieces outta clay -- I used magic to make it match my memory perfectly. Then I put it together with the snow spell and charmed the animals before I sealed it all in glass. It should be shatterproof, but maybe don't test that part of the spell on purpose.
[ She can't hide her happiness, and doesn't really try. There has been precious little in the past months to be happy about, and something about holding onto these out-of-place holidays has been one of her grounding threads. They feel like anchors, these traditions, and she's been lucky that so many other people have identical ones to celebrate with her. Otherwise, it would just be sad, fixating on days that she would be among the last to ever remember.
Biting her lip absently, she takes the pouch and fishes out the tooth. Something flares in her chest, warm and squeezing; she's never actually mentioned it, but she's spent months trying to bring the one in the Horizon outside. Not that she was putting much sweat into it, but she would give it a go every time, just in case. Couldn't hurt, she'd figured, but she never managed to make it work.
Julie runs her thumb over the tooth for a moment. She never learned much about the metal from Nocwich, certainly not enough to identify it by sight alone, but she can feel something of it. Not in a tactile way, but in a sense that she can't describe clearly, like it's brushing against some part of her that she can't see. Her magic. Turning it over, she can recognize the symbols as runes, but not ones she knows -- Wanda only taught Julie the ones from her own world, which were slightly more familiar shapes than these.
She looks up at him, eyes shiny in the light of the fire and the little bulbs that flicker on the tree. Her voice is soft. ] What does it say?
[ She can't hide her happiness, and doesn't really try. There has been precious little in the past months to be happy about, and something about holding onto these out-of-place holidays has been one of her grounding threads. They feel like anchors, these traditions, and she's been lucky that so many other people have identical ones to celebrate with her. Otherwise, it would just be sad, fixating on days that she would be among the last to ever remember.
Biting her lip absently, she takes the pouch and fishes out the tooth. Something flares in her chest, warm and squeezing; she's never actually mentioned it, but she's spent months trying to bring the one in the Horizon outside. Not that she was putting much sweat into it, but she would give it a go every time, just in case. Couldn't hurt, she'd figured, but she never managed to make it work.
Julie runs her thumb over the tooth for a moment. She never learned much about the metal from Nocwich, certainly not enough to identify it by sight alone, but she can feel something of it. Not in a tactile way, but in a sense that she can't describe clearly, like it's brushing against some part of her that she can't see. Her magic. Turning it over, she can recognize the symbols as runes, but not ones she knows -- Wanda only taught Julie the ones from her own world, which were slightly more familiar shapes than these.
She looks up at him, eyes shiny in the light of the fire and the little bulbs that flicker on the tree. Her voice is soft. ] What does it say?
[ As she describes it, he gives the orb another peek, then back at her. She does appear happy. That means something to him, too, for similar reasons. Holidays may not look the same for him as others, but winter remains a time he looks forward to. Where he sees his family again, puts away the shadows of the world, and spends the next few months with the people who know him best.
He can't go home the same way anymore. But this—it's good. Not a replacement for what he left behind, but something equally significant. It's close. ]
Keinme. [ He guides her finger over the carved runes. ] The Elder word for power.
[ There's no magic in the word; it's a reminder, a symbol, like the runes carved into his blade or his medallion. ]
I didn't have it enchanted. They say the metal can hold magic. You can put yours in it.
[ He's left it open for her to place what she wants inside, when she wants. Like a locket, for a spell. Something she can carry with her. ]
He can't go home the same way anymore. But this—it's good. Not a replacement for what he left behind, but something equally significant. It's close. ]
Keinme. [ He guides her finger over the carved runes. ] The Elder word for power.
[ There's no magic in the word; it's a reminder, a symbol, like the runes carved into his blade or his medallion. ]
I didn't have it enchanted. They say the metal can hold magic. You can put yours in it.
[ He's left it open for her to place what she wants inside, when she wants. Like a locket, for a spell. Something she can carry with her. ]
Keinme. [ She repeats it quietly. Power. All her life, she's been chasing power, to grab any that she could for herself. She'd been powerless for so long, and when she finally got close to it, everything was ripped away.
And now she does have power, more than she ever thought possible. Not power siphoned off others, not shallow power that she used to hurt others. Real, undeniable power, a connection to this world and to the Singularity.
But more than that, she now has everything she always wanted. The power, but also the people. Sure, it's not exactly the world as she dreamt it -- magical world jumping didn't factor into her fantasies -- but for everything it's missing, Abraxas gives her something better.
The warmth in her ribs feels tight, like there's so much there that she could burst, and she glances at him one more time before she puts the necklace in his hand and then twists to face away. She brushes her hair over one shoulder, and looks back over the other. ] Put it on for me?
And now she does have power, more than she ever thought possible. Not power siphoned off others, not shallow power that she used to hurt others. Real, undeniable power, a connection to this world and to the Singularity.
But more than that, she now has everything she always wanted. The power, but also the people. Sure, it's not exactly the world as she dreamt it -- magical world jumping didn't factor into her fantasies -- but for everything it's missing, Abraxas gives her something better.
The warmth in her ribs feels tight, like there's so much there that she could burst, and she glances at him one more time before she puts the necklace in his hand and then twists to face away. She brushes her hair over one shoulder, and looks back over the other. ] Put it on for me?
[ He'd spent a bit of time deliberating what to put on it. This felt the most fitting, and he's glad she seems to understand what he means by it. A personal sort of power, the kind that can't be stolen from you, that you find for yourself in the world.
He sweeps the few remaining locks out of the way, then affixes the necklace. There's a small smile on his face when she turns back around. Soft, maybe a little unconscious, like he's not quite aware of it. ]
Suits you.
[ He adjusts the chain, fingers lingering. The silver catches the light of the tree, where it curves around the tooth. He'll have to show her the monster he plucked it out of some time. In the Horizon, perhaps. ]
He sweeps the few remaining locks out of the way, then affixes the necklace. There's a small smile on his face when she turns back around. Soft, maybe a little unconscious, like he's not quite aware of it. ]
Suits you.
[ He adjusts the chain, fingers lingering. The silver catches the light of the tree, where it curves around the tooth. He'll have to show her the monster he plucked it out of some time. In the Horizon, perhaps. ]
[ He promised to follow up and he also has another question, so this seems like the time to check in. ]
Geralt. I don't know how useful the information I have will be for you but we did all make it out. I have a question for you about something that happened early on.
Geralt. I don't know how useful the information I have will be for you but we did all make it out. I have a question for you about something that happened early on.
[ She could swear that she actively feels warmer when he finishes clasping the chain. Maybe it's just the wine; she absolutely did not stop drinking just because she came back to Cadens. Drinking less, slightly, but she may have enchanted one of her bags to be able to store many more bottles of Lunaen wine than it should have been able to. There are glasses on the table now.
Suits you, he says when she turns around, and for a split second, she can feel tears well in the corner of her eyes. You see me, she thinks, and never in her goddamn life has she ever felt so overwhelmingly happy that she thought she might cry.
Fuck. She lets out a breath, moving herself to his lap, facing him. Her hands shake a little when she puts her hand on his cheek. ]
Thank you. [ It's the only thing she can think to murmur. She refuses to dignify this emotional slip with any further attention, so she kisses him. ]
Suits you, he says when she turns around, and for a split second, she can feel tears well in the corner of her eyes. You see me, she thinks, and never in her goddamn life has she ever felt so overwhelmingly happy that she thought she might cry.
Fuck. She lets out a breath, moving herself to his lap, facing him. Her hands shake a little when she puts her hand on his cheek. ]
Thank you. [ It's the only thing she can think to murmur. She refuses to dignify this emotional slip with any further attention, so she kisses him. ]
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