[ Holy SHIT you can use AUDIO on these things peer-to-peer?? Enter like three solid minutes of Geralt fumbling with the watch and obliterating the sincere tone of this message, muttering to himself about stupid elven artifacts stupid magic stupid everything.
[ Geralt doesn't respond immediately, still not used to these contraptions, but he does sooner rather than later. Being so unfamiliar, he's lacking in basic phone etiquette like Oh, hi, sorry I missed your call. ]
[ Liliana isn't all surprised that she's not part of the convoy back to the "Black City", but she's also not too upset about it. That doesn't mean she isn't curious, though, and while she knows that Chandra will share what she can find, she'd like a different point of view. ]
[ He's finally been shown how to take capslock off, but he's still not adept at texting. Alas, it's probably the most reliable method of communication between cities. ]
「 ooc: totally gonna assume they exchanged names at some point during Dorchacha shenanigans. Well, "names" in case of this guy, he's pretty open that Caster ain't his name but he goes by it around here 」
Hey, still alive out there? [ He knows the espionage team returned, mostly safely but— it's been a long month, he wouldn't blame anyone for sleeping for a week. He is tempted to do exactly that. ] I owe you a round of drinks so you better not be a corpse.
[ Lambert doesn’t usually seek Geralt out. Living in happy communal harmony was never really the point of being a witcher, so much as amicably interacting when their respective tasks called for it, but he’s still got a decent chunk of change from the job last month — inasmuch as catching a witch with designs to fuck up the city is a job — and with the nippier temperatures, he’s less inclined to spend a lot of time outdoors.
He wonders if hibernation is going to be a thing, hopes it isn’t. With his luck, he’d wake up in spring to his room being vandalized.
But anyway, back to finding Geralt, or trying to. Puca magic comes to him second nature now, so it’s easy enough to focus on the thought of the other witcher and let instinct turn him in the right direction, liquor bottle and mugs dangling carelessly from each hand. ]
[ Early in the month means that the pressure building at the back of Geralt's head is just a dull buzz for now, and he can still ignore it. Or so he thinks. He's more irritable than usual, even though it's hard to tell; not like he runs much commentary about it.
He's at home, on the back deck on the main level of the narrow townhouse, working at installing an enchanted ... hot tub. Look. Gwen who is still living in the basement endorses it, and Geralt thinks it'd be nice to sit outside and contemplate the universe in a giant pot of hot water. ]
Something wrong?
[ He asks this without looking up from aligning a board. Lambert doesn't usually want to talk. ]
At least that's the joke Lambert's decided he's going to stick with, later, after this is all over. He hasn't bothered to dress up or anything special like that, but he hasn't shown up dead drunk, either. This isn't a point he thought he'd get to during his stay here -- just about anything sounds better than having Geralt slotted up beside him in his heart and head -- but it's an arrangement that's convenient for the both of them.
He just hopes it doesn't also involve feeling every time Geralt fucks, because that's a level of intimacy he just really doesn't want to have with his sort-of older brother.
As luck would have it, there's a real Bonding ceremony taking place just before theirs, a blushing Merrow and her sheepish witch bride surrounded by friends as witnesses, taking their sweet time with their sappy, heartfelt vows. For now, it's hanging out in the waiting room off to the side, one of his feet drumming on the ground while his ears swivel restlessly. ]
[ If Lambert actually utters that joke aloud, Geralt may kill him. Bond be damned.
Bond.
He'd conceded to the idea because he feels like it would be awful of him not to. Lambert has the shit end of the situation here between monsters and witches, the witch he was close to has vanished, and abandoning him to suffer because of ironic justice is beyond the scope of what Geralt feels entitled to do. He supposes that dying on Lambert would also be abandonment.
His own fate, avoiding death, hasn't really factored into the decision. Not that he's mentioned this. Sure, I'd prefer to live wasn't a lie, exactly, but it's not something he believes with much weight, either. Dying was miserable and bleak, but Avalon was the only time he's known peace. Geralt isn't actively suicidal, but the idea of rest ... is not altogether off-putting. ]
In Dorchacht, bonds were all about making it easier to work together to escape the compulsion and decay the spell that stole their memories, [ Geralt says quietly, carefully compartmentalizing any reaction to the ceremony into nothingness. ] They were a utility.
( original here, bc i can't comment to ur post anymore )
[ one of the mirrorbound from the city, then? or perhaps a volunteer that has lived here for as long as he could remember— lagertha has heard of the wilders and their calls for help, quests and missions. having taken a handful of them to fill her table and restock the produce lost because of that . . . goose. that she killed.
(don't tell anyone that either).
regardless, she takes note of his lack of readiness. it doesn't ease her into doing the same, just yet, but she does take the time to observe. broad back. scars, hair, battleworn or perhaps of age, as her own blond hair had been silvering. ]
A walk would be refreshing. [ she is not refreshed! yet. ] Who are you, then?
Geralt. [ he shrugs. ] Used to be 'of Rivia', but nobody here's from anywhere familiar.
[ So, just Geralt it is. Because it was a made-up title in the first place; he's not from Rivia. Mutants just occasionally take false surnames and toponyms to seem less like outsiders. Humans trust them easier if they seem like real people. ]
[ He knows, when he gets the message, he should have gotten back to her sooner. But being prone to leave his watch behind with his bedroll in the small tent he's moonlighting in at a Wilder camp, there's nothing to be done for it. ]
[ Shit's still a little wobbly, like when she hadn't yet had her first feed and Smiling Jack laughed about how shaky her legs were, only the wobbliness is in working up the nerve to go and seek Geralt out.
One insanely snowy evening during the blizzard when she's not putting roofs and walls back together again (with people who understand how those get rebuilt better than she ever will), with no body heat to lose to the cold and two armfuls of boxes ranging from cubed to cylindrical, Paloma knocks on his big house's front doors. Yes, knocks, doesn't risk flying into his balcony, and then she dithers and dithers, turning around to peer anxiously at the white street. Could that snowbank hide her entire body? ]
[ The townhouse is gloomy and imposing; something about being down an occupant adds to the dreary cold. Soon it'll change. Gwen'll take a proverbial hatchet to the thing with decor, they'll find another roommate, and life'll go on, since Geralt isn't going to explode.
Knock knock. Smells like a vampire.
The door opens silently and there stands Geralt, in a loose knit robe over his smallclothes. ]
...
[ She's staring out at the street. He can practically feel the anxiety. ]
audio; about two days after wakey wakey
That was all insane. I was insane. I’m so sorry.
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Eventually, ]
What? You weren't insane. What are you sorry for?
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incredible restraint when that was deliberately left wide open for dicks
more incredible restraint pls mistress
okhand emoji
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VOICE | AROUND AGURIL 30TH
Hey, um... hi! Is this Geralt? This is... Steven. I'm that fae you had to rescue in the Dorchacht dream.
I wanted to say thank you? And... if there's something I can do to pay you back... can you let me know? I'd really like to.
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You don't owe me anything.
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text; mid-september
Enjoying your vacation?
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Jealous?
[ He's finally been shown how to take capslock off, but he's still not adept at texting. Alas, it's probably the most reliable method of communication between cities. ]
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text; dorchacht season, RIDONKULOUS nsfw
I hope you've been as well as you can be, given what you're up to. Do you have a minute?
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peachy
Sure
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Octeuril 2
Hey, still alive out there? [ He knows the espionage team returned, mostly safely but— it's been a long month, he wouldn't blame anyone for sleeping for a week. He is tempted to do exactly that. ] I owe you a round of drinks so you better not be a corpse.
[ Makes for a poor drinking buddy ]
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But anyway: not dead. ]
Guess all anybody really has to live for is alcohol, [ comes the reply, deadpan as ever. A lot of people seem to owe him drinks. ] Everybody make it?
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fml i lost this notif
it's ok o/
*raises head from the hiatus darkness* i continue being slow as balls
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7BMGCTWq338
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ
i hoped it was that
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text; late octeuril
Remember that chat about job prospects?
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[ Sassypants McGee here has done minimal research since then. ]
Yes
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some night early in the month
He wonders if hibernation is going to be a thing, hopes it isn’t. With his luck, he’d wake up in spring to his room being vandalized.
But anyway, back to finding Geralt, or trying to. Puca magic comes to him second nature now, so it’s easy enough to focus on the thought of the other witcher and let instinct turn him in the right direction, liquor bottle and mugs dangling carelessly from each hand. ]
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He's at home, on the back deck on the main level of the narrow townhouse, working at installing an enchanted ... hot tub. Look. Gwen who is still living in the basement endorses it, and Geralt thinks it'd be nice to sit outside and contemplate the universe in a giant pot of hot water. ]
Something wrong?
[ He asks this without looking up from aligning a board. Lambert doesn't usually want to talk. ]
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its basically magic viniq don't @ me
nerd
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some time late in the month
At least that's the joke Lambert's decided he's going to stick with, later, after this is all over. He hasn't bothered to dress up or anything special like that, but he hasn't shown up dead drunk, either. This isn't a point he thought he'd get to during his stay here -- just about anything sounds better than having Geralt slotted up beside him in his heart and head -- but it's an arrangement that's convenient for the both of them.
He just hopes it doesn't also involve feeling every time Geralt fucks, because that's a level of intimacy he just really doesn't want to have with his sort-of older brother.
As luck would have it, there's a real Bonding ceremony taking place just before theirs, a blushing Merrow and her sheepish witch bride surrounded by friends as witnesses, taking their sweet time with their sappy, heartfelt vows. For now, it's hanging out in the waiting room off to the side, one of his feet drumming on the ground while his ears swivel restlessly. ]
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Bond.
He'd conceded to the idea because he feels like it would be awful of him not to. Lambert has the shit end of the situation here between monsters and witches, the witch he was close to has vanished, and abandoning him to suffer because of ironic justice is beyond the scope of what Geralt feels entitled to do. He supposes that dying on Lambert would also be abandonment.
His own fate, avoiding death, hasn't really factored into the decision. Not that he's mentioned this. Sure, I'd prefer to live wasn't a lie, exactly, but it's not something he believes with much weight, either. Dying was miserable and bleak, but Avalon was the only time he's known peace. Geralt isn't actively suicidal, but the idea of rest ... is not altogether off-putting. ]
In Dorchacht, bonds were all about making it easier to work together to escape the compulsion and decay the spell that stole their memories, [ Geralt says quietly, carefully compartmentalizing any reaction to the ceremony into nothingness. ] They were a utility.
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don't tell the list mods i have ur cookies, here (if you are okay with slow ass tagging)
[ one of the mirrorbound from the city, then? or perhaps a volunteer that has lived here for as long as he could remember— lagertha has heard of the wilders and their calls for help, quests and missions. having taken a handful of them to fill her table and restock the produce lost because of that . . . goose. that she killed.
(don't tell anyone that either).
regardless, she takes note of his lack of readiness. it doesn't ease her into doing the same, just yet, but she does take the time to observe. broad back. scars, hair, battleworn or perhaps of age, as her own blond hair had been silvering. ]
A walk would be refreshing. [ she is not refreshed! yet. ] Who are you, then?
secret slow baked cookies
[ So, just Geralt it is. Because it was a made-up title in the first place; he's not from Rivia. Mutants just occasionally take false surnames and toponyms to seem less like outsiders. Humans trust them easier if they seem like real people. ]
Are you from here?
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audio; somewhere mid to late nov
I just need to know if you're all right.
text, the next day
I am
[ Also, I sound and look like shit ]
someone needs to send this man a howler
ok MOM
GERALT WEASLEY! YOUVE SHAMED THIS FAMILY FOR THE LAST TIME
:'(
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audio. during modranicht.
( yes, she's been drinking. )
Do you know where I can get weed? It's important.
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Sedative, hallucinogenic, poisonous.. ?
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early-mid december (timey wimey)
One insanely snowy evening during the blizzard when she's not putting roofs and walls back together again (with people who understand how those get rebuilt better than she ever will), with no body heat to lose to the cold and two armfuls of boxes ranging from cubed to cylindrical, Paloma knocks on his big house's front doors. Yes, knocks, doesn't risk flying into his balcony, and then she dithers and dithers, turning around to peer anxiously at the white street. Could that snowbank hide her entire body? ]
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Knock knock. Smells like a vampire.
The door opens silently and there stands Geralt, in a loose knit robe over his smallclothes. ]
...
[ She's staring out at the street. He can practically feel the anxiety. ]
Boo.
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text; mid/late deceuer
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I'm at the flower shop but I can
relocate
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modranicht.
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you ok?
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action.
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Modranicht gift
“Happy Holidays! We are not friends yet but I hope we can become friends in the coming year.” is what the attached note says]
12/25
It's in a box, and in that box is a piece of paper. In it, it reads:]
Good for one weapon. Just one mind. I'm not made of money.
Glad you're not dead.
-S.