gynvael | abraxas:: INBOX

[ That it does. A Witcher's lifespan is long, but not endless. It can be cut short in an instant. To exist entirely without that threat...it wasn't unsettling, exactly, but it leaves him uncertain of what to think. He can't deny his only wish has been to be with his family, but he understood the reality that there were limits to that desire.

And then suddenly, there weren't.

He pulls his mug towards him. He expects so. Everything in his head is somewhat a jumble right now, but he imagines it'll sort itself out with time. Or so he hopes. Besides: ] Memories often do. I don't recall most of my childhood anymore.

[ Parts of it, yes. With his mother, in bits and pieces. During the Trials. Fleeing the destruction of his home, growing up with Vesemir. Some flashes are vivid imprints. Others...not so much. When the memories return to him, or when he has a reason to reach for them, they're often haphazard impressions more than a clear picture. It's always been this way for him.

In any case, he's. Fine. A part of him doesn't want to lend too much credence to what he considers a message or a prophecy sent by someone or some thing. Pouring your efforts into such things seldom lead anywhere good, and he is concerned that some of the Summoned might take to what they witnessed with ill-advised assumptions. ]

[ It's true that even real, actually lived-out memories will fade with time. Steve isn't anywhere near as old as Geralt (from what he's gathered from comments Geralt himself and Sam have made offhandedly), and even his younger years have become a blur.

Which is a fact that leaves him hollow in the pit of his stomach. Even before all this, he resented the idea that he would forget more and more of what the world looked like and felt like before he went into the ice. ]

I would guess these'll fade even more quickly. I mean, we didn't actually live through all that, right?

[ Steve sighs and shakes his head, then takes a long drink from his pint. He doesn't expect Geralt to have any answers, but he can't help but want to try and make some sense of it anyway. He isn't going to put too much stock into any of it, but it's not like he can just pretend they didn't all experience a mass hallucination either. ]

Anyway, I know it was just by chance, but you're the reason I started to realize something wasn't right. So... [ He tips his glass toward Geralt in quiet thanks, then takes another sip off it. ]

Edited 2024-05-30 19:55 (UTC)

[ Didn't they? Geralt's expression suggests he does not believe the answer so simple, though he does not respond. Where is the line between memory and dreams and experience? Technically, he didn't live through raising Ciri, either. He simply remembers it from a vision. If that isn't real, then what is?

And what about Ciri's knowledge of his fate in a future he's not yet seen?

It's easier not to pick it apart. He's formed relationships over centuries with people he once met a handful of times at best. Whatever they decide to call what happened—a memory, a vision, a false prophecy—it will not change what he knows of them now. Nor how familiar they feel to him. ]

Consider us even. [ For his attempt to kill Steve that one time. ] I assume you remember him again.

[ It's hard to know what to make of any of it, and Geralt isn't the type of man to attempt to persuade him either way. They're going to believe what they choose to out of that whole experience, and it's likely to differ from person to person.

He does raise an eyebrow at the remark about being even, because for a moment he doesn't really know what Geralt even owes him for. But the mention of Bucky, even vaguely, jogs his memory.

Right. That. Well, he'd already told Geralt a long time ago there were no hard feelings. ]

Yeah, I do. [ His gaze immediately flicks down to the tabletop between them. ] I don't like that I forgot him at all. From what I can remember, Sam and I kept reminding each other of him for a while, but over time it still wasn't enough.

[ He shakes his head and takes a long drink. He just can't accept that could ever happen, even after eight hundred years.

(But what if he's wrong?) ]

Edited 2024-06-12 23:34 (UTC)

[ He had a similar conversation with Kyle shortly before the sky collapsed. What does it mean to forget? And for whom do you carry those memories? He isn't sure an answer exists, but he can understand the unsettling nature of it. He felt the absence of his brothers. Vesemir. Understanding they may fade with time is one thing, but a certain artificiality to the visions bothers him.

It's difficult not to feel some sense of manipulation.

He studies Steve. They discussed a friend of Steve's once. Geralt can't say this is the same man, but as far as he knows, there's only one person both Steve and Sam have spoken to him of with such significance. ]

Who is he?

We've talked about him before — Bucky.

[ Steve had given Geralt almost all the important details about how they'd been best friends and went to war together, then about Bucky's brainwashing and the aftermath of that.

Granted, that was a while ago now, and it was right after they were both hauled off that island. He wouldn't hold it against Geralt if he's forgotten some of the details. ]

... James Buchanan Barnes is his given name, but I've always called him Bucky. It's one of those nicknames that just stuck.

[ He knows Geralt doesn't need that information; it's more for himself. It feels important to say Bucky's full name after he forgot it.

Steve pauses to take a drink, then nods to Geralt. ]

You met him when he was here, right?

Edited 2024-06-17 04:05 (UTC)

[ Mm. So it is him. Geralt tips his head, acknowledging the question. ] Here and there.

[ They were never close. He knows Bucky was a soldier, knows the things that Sam and Steve have both told him, but there's little he learned from the man himself. Circumstances, more than anything. When he fled to Cadens, Bucky had remained in Nott. After that, he simply vanished—and subsequent reappearances were brief at best.

It's strange. He's noted it on the board he shares with Sam, but he's yet to discern why some have a far stronger connection to this sphere than others. ]

He was quiet. We seldom spoke.

[ Steve indulges in a smile at that little detail, although it's not exactly a happy one. Yeah, it doesn't surprise him to hear that Bucky was on the quiet side, although it also reminds him of how that wasn't always the case. ]

It didn't used to be that way. He was chatty, charismatic, the kind of guy who could light up a room and snatch up everyone's attention.

[ He takes a long sip, then sets the glass down with a little more finality, focusing his attention solely on Geralt now rather than getting too caught up in old memories. ]

That changed after... well, everything. He got a lot quieter. Maybe that's why you reminded me of him. You're both not the most talkative until you get to know someone, or you're joking around in the middle of a fight.

[ For them, fighting became so normalized that they could joke around through it. ]

And yeah, some people also called him the White Wolf.

[ So, it was a few things. ]

[ His expression flickers. Yes. He does understand how that happens. He recalls the everything that Steve refers to—or the portions of it that he'd spoken of. It makes him wonder if Steve is so unsettled by losing the memory of his friend because his friend once lost the memory of him. He knows it wasn't easy for Ciri, but at least he had not seen Ciri as the enemy then.

A smile nearly tugs at his lips, though not quite. Is that so? ] I don't joke.

[ Funny. Nero reminded him of Lambert reminded him of Rocket. Perhaps they're all searching for the familiar comforts of home, however much they've tried to leave the past where it belongs. And now the future, too. He isn't sure where that one lies. ]

Sam mentioned. [ He'd found that amusing. That Sam should find himself another wolf. ] Just don't tell Jaskier. He likes to think it was an original title.

[ Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes at Geralt's deadpan comment. He doesn't joke, huh? Maybe it's more that his idea of humor is a lot more dry than most (like, for instance, claiming that he doesn't joke), but Steve is pretty sure it counts anyway. Not that he's going to make a thing of it, and he lifts his glass up to take a drink instead.

At the mention of Jaskier, his head cants to one side. ]

So he's the one who gave you the title? [ Geralt hadn't mentioned that when Steve asked in his memory of an event that didn't actually happen, but maybe it's because at that point he'd forgotten. ] Where'd he get it from? Was it the hair, or...

[ He nods down to the medallion hanging at Geralt's neck. ]

[ For Jaskier? He truthfully can't say. Both, perhaps. Jaskier walked up to him one day, declared himself a Witcher's barker, and before he knew it, he was written into a song. The White Wolf. Geralt of Rivia. And buried in there somewhere, the Butcher of Blaviken.

But there's a history beyond it he doesn't speak of often. Steve has shared his, so after a second, he decides to do the same. ]

The School of the Wolf was one of the last standing by my time. It's where I was taken and raised. Every Witcher leaves with a medallion.

[ Only for a brief period, upon his arrival here, was he without it. The moment it was returned to him, he put it back on and has not taken it off—and Steve may have noticed he never wears it beneath anything, either. Not when he dons his gear, not when he wears his cloak. It's always visible, purposefully so. ]

But not the hair. [ That's also added drily. ]

[ The School of the Wolf. So that medallion commemorates Geralt's training and the order that he's a part of. It makes sense now why Steve's never seen him without it so far as he can remember. Maybe when they were in that pit — all his memories of that time are pretty hazy.

It also means that Geralt has some sense of pride in who he is and where he comes from. It's not quite the same as wearing a military insignia, but it would quickly identify him to others back where he's from.

Here, it must be a bit more sentimental. Even if he's here in Abraxas, he hasn't forgotten what made him. ]

Not the hair? So that's specific to you?

[ Steve studies the shade of it for a moment in the dim lighting of the tavern. It's not a natural color where he's from, at least not on someone like Geralt who still — at least as far as appearances go — looks to be in his prime. Steve doesn't outright ask if there's more to it, but the question is maybe implied. ]

[ Sentimental, practical, a force of habit—all of those things in one. Its ability to sense magic nearby holds less use in a world steeped in Chaos, but he relies on it nonetheless. Out in the Badlands, it can make a difference. ]

I underwent a few more Trials. [ Is all he says about it. They each bear their marks and scars; Coën's eye was fucked afterwards, and he didn't need to endure more than one for that. ] They called it a trifle.

[ Comparatively, it was. Comparatively, he didn't die.

He tips more ale into Steve's mug, a sign that he hasn't much else to add to the topic. Steve can glean what remains unspoken. The man might've volunteered for his enhancements, but things are rarely so simple, and Geralt imagines there were a number of others before him who did not. Powerful alchemy does not simply work in its first attempt.

But perhaps he's making presumptions.

There's a question that's lingered on his mind since they trekked to Aquila, however. Before that, even. ]

Back home, you submitted to experiments for a war. What made it so important?

[ Because Steve certainly has no interest in the army here. If anything, he seems to be as wary of them as Geralt. So he is not a career soldier nor someone who seeks the comfort of being rank and file. ]

[ Trials, huh? Steve can practically hear the capital letter in Geralt's tone. This wasn't just a matter of sending him down an obstacle course or asking him to do one hundred push-ups, that much is obvious. ]

A trifle. [ He scoffs and shakes his head, not hiding his discomfort that Geralt had been put through something like that. He wasn't the only one, either. This was an entire operation, built to twist people into human weapons. Steve can't help but think of the Winter Soldier program or the Red Room.

When Geralt tops him up, Steve almost immediately lifts his mug to knock it back, taking a moment to consider that question. This is something he's been asked in various forms over the years, and it's hard to know exactly how to explain it to someone who wasn't there, or who didn't grow up with the knowledge of it.

He sets down his mug, quiet for a few more seconds before he speaks. ]

I won't give you the entire history lesson, but the dictator who was leading the enemy forces was willing to commit genocide on entire groups of people because they didn't match his vision of an ideal human. He was putting people in camps, committing atrocities... It's not the sort of thing I could just pretend wasn't happening.

[ His jaw clenches as he draws in a breath. ]

I had to do something. I didn't care what it took to get there.

[ Steve made his opinion known once, and Geralt had only stated the program was long ended. No more boys, no more Witchers. He has not spoken to anyone about what that means—knowing that the cost of what made your kind cannot happen again and understanding this makes you the last of them. It's a specific, conflicting sorrow. ]

Sounds familiar. [ His tone is dry. Few things change between spheres, he's learnt. The Continent is a divided land, and there has been no answer to its endless butchery. The North against the elves, Nilfgaard with the elves against the humans. He had wondered when they might come for the mages next.

Ciri cared once. About finding an answer. And he has seen how she's finally let go of her dreams for something better. As much as he'd tried to steer her towards the reality of things, he still wishes he had not been right. ]

We're marked here, too. [ It's been on his mind since he set foot upon this world. ] As outsiders. There may come a time when they fear us more than they need us.

[ It hadn't surprised himself to hear that the program had ended at some point. In Steve's experience, anything that dragged in humans and spit them back out as something else were going to burn themselves out at some point — or be dragged into ruin by the very people that it churned out. A snake (or hydra) eating itself. ]

Sorry to hear that, but... also not surprised.

[ Jaskier had mentioned war to him, how he had worked to help those oppressed by it to find paths to safety. It isn't a leap to imagine that genocide played a part in that.

Geralt also makes a good point, one that sends Steve's gaze scanning around the room. They've been treated decently here in the Free Cities. He knows Thorne has a much worse track record. To say nothing of what Josselyn's cult tried to do to them, something both he and Geralt experienced firsthand. ]

I know. And if it gets to that point, what do you plan to do?

[ Steve has even thought to himself that if the Cities tried to instate a draft, Geralt would be near the top of the list of people who would fight against it. He's curious to hear his thoughts now. ]

[ Ironically, it's their relative freedom that's made Geralt wary. The Free Cities clearly knows when and where each of them come and go; his place of residence has hardly been stable and yet, they always seem to find him or what he's doing. Admittedly, Geralt is not difficult to recognize nor does he bother to keep himself hidden from the public eye, but...even in the early days, that had been true.

His gaze lifts to meet Steve's. What does he plan to do? He's thought about it. Since his arrival, it has not left his mind. Two, three years ago, his answer may have been different. ]

That depends on what they do. And who they look towards to do it. [ The rulers, the other kingdoms. The humans. As much as he has no interest in serving any one side, he recognizes that in fighting for his own, he may end up fighting alongside others in the process—whether he wants to or not. If that happens, so be it. But he certainly won't be submitting to any orders. ] What about you?

[ He's gathered Steve isn't fond of being told what to do, either. ]

Guess there are a lot of different ways it could play out, yeah.

[ Steve glances down at the table, fingers tapping over it as he considers the question that's now been sent back his way. Of course it's been on his mind too. Ever since they first arrived, he'd known that they were brought here to be used. To some extent, he's played into that. He's helped when the Free Cities government has asked for it, particularly with eliminating threats.

He can't just turn a blind eye, as he's already explained to Geralt. ]

... I want to believe that they couldn't turn everyone against us. I've gone from being respected to treated like nothing more than a fugitive before, and while some people will be willing to change their allegiances on a dime, others would stay loyal. The people we've helped.

[ Captain's orders, they'd said. He still remembers that day so clearly, and how much faith he'd had in those who'd stayed by him. ]

That, and we've got each other. I think it's safe to say we wouldn't just accept things without a fight.

[ Geralt leans back in his chair, drink ignored. He is not so cynical as to believe contrary to Steve. He is cynical enough to believe it may not matter. ]

When humans attacked our home, it was hardly everyone. Just a mob, spurred by an angry mage and an abundance of fear and hate. In that one night, they destroyed my kind.

[ How many of the Summoned reside in this sphere? Less than a hundred. He can't predict precisely what will come next, but if they will not or cannot serve their purpose, then the kingdoms will seek to discard them. That's always the way it goes. And were he alone, he'd harbour fewer concerns.

He isn't. Not anymore. Ciri feels safe here. This is her home. The last thing he wants is for her to be driven from it again. They fled across the Continent once, and though it kept her safe, he knows the toll it took on her. To run and never settle down. To constantly fear discovery.

It's of no consequence that she can fight. That she's survived too many horrors to count. He doesn't want that to be all she has to look towards. ]

[ Geralt drops that bomb in his usual way, his tone and word choice making everything curt and to the point. He doesn't dwell on it, and no anger or sorrow clings to his voice. It is what it is. The world is a cruel place, people can be terrible to those who frighten them, and that's that.

Still, as far as Steve's aware this is the first time Geralt has admitted to the fact that his order was wiped out like that. Not imploded from the inside, but hunted down by a mob. Steve sucks in a breath and lets it out again, eyeing his drink with the realization that he doesn't have a taste for it anymore. ]

Guess that's all it takes, huh.

[ He draws a hand up to run down his face. They somehow ended up at this somber place, but he isn't going to dwell in it for too long. ]

I've fought for my people before. I'll do it again, if it comes to that.

[ He's pretty sure that's a point they can agree on.

There's a beat, and then he adds with a one-armed shrug: ] Or maybe that dream we had was right, and they'll start worshipping us. [ He doesn't look any more thrilled about that prospect. ]

[ Mm. That's all it takes. An unruly mob. As Ciri tells it, the same scenario will take him, too, not long into her future. Some human. He supposes it was always going to end that way. Witchers are destined to die by a monster's hand, after all.

He isn't searching for pity, and it's not exactly a confession. He speaks of the incident rarely not because he's hiding it but because there isn't a reason to say it, except when there is. Like now. Steve seems to gather as much, and they move past it without too much bullshit. ]

Some dreams are omens. Others are merely dreams. [ Time will tell which is which. ] Whatever the kingdoms are brewing, I'd prefer not to be caught unawares. If you plan another excursion, I can lend my sword again.

[ Since apparently, they can't go anywhere without something trying to claw at them. ]

Edited 2024-08-05 04:15 (UTC)

[ For now, they won't know if there was any truth to those dreams or visions or whatever they wanted to call them. Only time would tell with whether some of the events started to unfold in the same way, and even then, Steve's recollection of the early days is fuzzy at best.

He nods when Geralt offers his assistance again. As it turns out, they're a pretty good team. Although maybe that shouldn't be surprising. Geralt and Sam had struck a partnership early on, and while Steve and Sam are not copies of each other, they do share plenty of traits in common. ]

Yeah, I'll let you know. I'll check in with Sam, see if he can use Red to find out more about what the military's cooking up.

[ But they can rest assured it's nothing good.

With that, Steve finishes off the last dregs of his drink and moves to stand. They've chatted plenty for one night, and he knows Geralt likes his peace and quiet where he can find it. ]

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wrap soon? 🎀

yep! 🎁