Geralt is always reachable by the network. Unless it's an emergency, expect not to hear back for a few hours, if not a few days.
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.
[ He sighs. This conversation is not what he needs. It feels like Alucard is asking, How do I stop caring, like you?, and the truth is, one does not. Sometimes he feels everything, sometimes he feels nothing, sometimes it's both all at once. None of it leaves him in a remotely ideal frame of mind.
And all these digging questions only brings forward too many jagged pieces of his past, his life. One that he does not share with Alucard. Not even close. Doesn't Alucard realize that he was raised so much more gently than a Witcher ever was? (Doesn't he realize he's asking for something Geralt has never wanted for himself? Something that even a hundred years later still leaves a painful wound that refuses to scar? That he's only the way he is because he was not given the choice to be otherwise?) ]
Every Witcher grows up understanding they are unwanted, from childhood. [ There's an underlying bitterness he can't completely hide, a rising irritation that makes him say too much. ] I did not move away from it. I was never a part of it. If you really want the same, I suggest you go back in time and ask your mother to discard you on the side of a fucking road instead of granting you your loving little home.
[Geralt's right. Not caring is the goal, because not caring means not dealing with this train wreck. Alucard knows he's bitter and angry at Sypha for being here at all, and it is in no small part because he felt he was doing better. He has a goal to work towards, and had found at least two people to confide in about the worst of it. Hell, Gideon had gotten him to laugh. Multiple times. That was an absolute victory, and yet just by mere presence, everything had been undone.
It also means he's absolutely not considering the few things that Geralt had shared of his past and making a few educated guesses about what not to ask, or at least consider what emotional minefields he might be stepping on.
So it means he reacts visibly to what the Witcher says next. A wince. And then a realization that this isn't going to help. Not how he thought it might, anyway. He's made another fucking mistake, and at least this time he can leave the conversation without being dragged into it again and again.
He stands up. Carefully, if only not to knock anything over. Makes sure to at least neaten his spot.]
I've taken up enough of your time. Thank you for the perspective.
[Curt and without emotion. The same dhampir from the cell in the first week.
no subject
And all these digging questions only brings forward too many jagged pieces of his past, his life. One that he does not share with Alucard. Not even close. Doesn't Alucard realize that he was raised so much more gently than a Witcher ever was? (Doesn't he realize he's asking for something Geralt has never wanted for himself? Something that even a hundred years later still leaves a painful wound that refuses to scar? That he's only the way he is because he was not given the choice to be otherwise?) ]
Every Witcher grows up understanding they are unwanted, from childhood. [ There's an underlying bitterness he can't completely hide, a rising irritation that makes him say too much. ] I did not move away from it. I was never a part of it. If you really want the same, I suggest you go back in time and ask your mother to discard you on the side of a fucking road instead of granting you your loving little home.
no subject
It also means he's absolutely not considering the few things that Geralt had shared of his past and making a few educated guesses about what not to ask, or at least consider what emotional minefields he might be stepping on.
So it means he reacts visibly to what the Witcher says next. A wince. And then a realization that this isn't going to help. Not how he thought it might, anyway. He's made another fucking mistake, and at least this time he can leave the conversation without being dragged into it again and again.
He stands up. Carefully, if only not to knock anything over. Makes sure to at least neaten his spot.]
I've taken up enough of your time. Thank you for the perspective.
[Curt and without emotion. The same dhampir from the cell in the first week.
He knows the way to the door.]