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[niespodzianka]

( any format, go nuts. might be nsfw peppered thru. )

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[niespodzianka]

[ Seriously, who the fuck is Jesus?

Anyway. Geralt is just. Staring at her. Because she looks like she's been rolling around in the snow with a week's shopping. He hasn't seen her since he was out of his mind in the Wilde and she'd come out there-- he'd been awful, he knows. He's still not sure how he feels about it, and doesn't totally understand why she's inclined to forgive him, but he's decided to just accept the situation as-is.

The situation, currently, is very cold. ]

Yeah I'm 'guh-uhm', [ he deadpans. ] Come inside before I have to put a sign on you for visitors. [ Geralt steps back, and gestures, bullies if he has to. Move, Paloma. ] 'The Vampiress, Ice Sculpture.'

[gehennawind]

[ Similarly, sitting on a tangle of complex feelings stemming from how she’d been convinced he was really gonna die, this is like seeing a ghost. She’d thought it would be all right, and it is, but there’s a shock to the senses and she’s staring in stunned relief. He looks okay. What a concept.

The bullying twists her mouth down and up simultaneously, performative irritation losing by a landslide to pleasure at its familiarity. ]

Gnarly. Fine, okay.

[ So in she scuttles, not giving him a wide berth but not shoulder-jostling him for the gentle ribbing. Paloma’s confidence in taking liberties: nil. And here in the parlor is where the snow encasing her begins to liquefy. She almost looks sweaty, and there’s about to be an enormous puddle. ]

I have, umm, some things I saved from the garden before this blizzard obliterated the greenhouse magic. Useful for medicine, I think? And— was this not a good time to see you? [ Robe. Paloma looks terrified and very wet. ]