middaeg | ( CLOSED ) where the fields are painted gold

And here I was just going to trail behind you to make sure you stepped on the right branches.

[Alucard's gaze goes over towards a sturdy looking oak tree whose branches are low, and seem to climb up forever.]

That would be the starting point, I think.

[ Geralt glances over his shoulder. ] Wouldn't say no to that.

[ He knows his strengths. Walking through trees isn't one of them. If Alucard is offering, he'll take the assistance.

He moves to the oak Alucard points out and jumps begins his ascent. Climbing the low branches is simple enough. He makes his way up before long, ducking under thick leaves and shaking off a twig that tangles in his hair. ]

Then let's get moving.

[Alucard's speed and ease with going up the trees becomes apparent within seconds. He does the smart thing and ensures Geralt gets a few branches up once before ascending himself, but then? He might as well be against Geralt's heels.

The forest floor is a riot of colors from the current perspective, and movement all the more obvious. There's a few squirrels below, skittering about, along with low-flying birds that in better times Alucard could probably identify with his sharp eyes.

But that isn't the name of the game right now.]

Start going to your left. The branches should be sturdy, but if anything trembles with only a foot on it, back up and find another route.

[ He is a speedy sonofabitch. If Geralt didn't know better, he'd have said Alucard was a woodland elf. He also isn't a hell of a lot lighter than Geralt is -- certainly not shorter -- but somehow, Geralt feels far less nimble in comparison.

At least if any more orphans accost him about their cat run up a tree, he'll be prepared.

He tests the branches before committing: one foot, then grabbing hold of the branch above. Eventually, he gets the hang of it. (Yes. The hang of it.) ]

You really travel like this often?

I used to do it far more back home, but I was lighter of foot then.

[He'd probably be a very good elf, all things considered. Such as it is, Alucard simply keeps pace behind Geralt, eyes fixed ahead.]

But look down. The density is the real reason that I suggested taking this route.

Not human.

[ It's partly a question, if Alucard wants to expand on exactly what it is, but also just an observation. He could've guessed as much. Even if Alucard gives no indication he's what this world has deemed a monster, something about him isn't wholly human.

He sticks to the low branches, pushing a few aside as he moves to study the ground. Not a bad way to hunt. There's no sign of the creature yet, but he can spot more of the orange flowers. With how blind it is, it seems it leaves more than a few behind -- bumping up against tree trunks and bushes with its flowering vines. He changes course, following the trail through the treetops. ]

Vampire on my father's side.

[Alucard's never hidden that part of himself. The details on say, how his parents parted ways? That is a matter played close to his chest, and there's rarely a reason anyone needs to know.

His eyes glance down every so often and -- goodness, it is an obvious trail, isn't it? Alucard huffs, and then:]

It seems to be going in a straight line, in spite of the little meanderings it seems to make. I suppose to sniff at something?

[ On my father's side surprises him more than vampire. He tilts his head. A moment of hesitation passes. Not much is known of higher vampires -- though he's aware Alucard doesn't necessarily fall into that category. Different spheres and all.

Close enough, though. He's gone through most his life expecting never to encounter one. They hide well and he has little reason to seek out monsters that keep to themselves. ]

Never spoken to an admitted one before. [ Naturally, seeing as one would hardly advertise themselves to a witcher.

He steps across onto the next branches. ] Foraging. It's a sightless species.

Dhampirs are rare. Most view humans as little but food or as fun playthings.

[Alucard knows there's a wide range of additional elements at play when it comes to vampires and people, but he isn't about to go too far into it.

They're still hunting, and his attention returns to--]

Ahead, on your left. There's a burst of orange.

The term's not familiar.

[ He can guess from context, though. If any exist on the Continent, they haven't been recorded. It seems not out of the question. Love has never been limited within a species. Even if some might prefer that it did.

He slips lower along the branches when Alucard points out what they've both spotted: the ambling bush of vines. Its flowers bloom brightly along its covered body.

His landing is quiet. The residue from any of Jaskier's sleeping powders seems to fuck with the flowers, which means Geralt's resorted to the complex strategy known as sneaking and hoping for the best: he waits for it to be distracted by its rummaging before gently picking the flowers off the vines, including the few that tumble to the ground as it sheds.

Of course, it's a delicate operation. They're skittish creatures. He's been smacked by the thorns once already from a startled Shamblevine. ]

Hardly surprising.

[And that's the end of that. Alucard's spoken very little of his parents here, and to have it come out in these sort of passing, blunt terms that have no additional questions involved feels well, nice for the lack of a better word. It isn't something he intends to overthink at any rate, and there are more important things involved.

Alucard does force himself to climb down a little more slowly than he might under other circumstances. The thing they're seeking could still bolt, and then where would any of them be? No where good, that much Alucard is sure of.

Moreover he doesn't dare to encroach on Geralt's actual work. What Alucard focuses instead on is movement beyond and--

--shit.

There's something in the dense brush ahead. Something low to the ground, and that comes with a soft whisper--]

Likely predator ahead.

[ For a good few moments, things go as planned. He gathers a handful of the flowers, un-crushed as requested, and pockets them in a pouch. The Shamblevine snuffles around the dirt and chews obliviously on its mushrooms.

Alucard speaks almost too softly for regular ears, though Geralt's picks it up with ease. He glances up -- in time to spot the same movement in the brush.

He freezes. From its height, it can't be anything too dangerous, but for a blind badger lugging around a plant on its back, nearly anything with teeth is a threat. True enough, it rears back, vines whipping, the edges of them catching him in the face.

The creature darts off. A small fox emerges from the bushes and stares.

He sighs, getting up. The scratches on his cheek are hardly worth noting, but he's already experienced exactly how fucking irritating the animal's...effects are. ]

Remind me to find something I can simply kill for coin next time.

[It's just a fox, in the end. One who looks a little too self satisfied from the looks of it, as that stare comes with a sly little look on the creatures face.

Alucard bends down, scooping up a few stray flowers that are just shy of being crushed. Best to gather all they can.]

I'm afraid I can't be there to whisper reminders in your ears during all adventures.

Shame.

[ It's sufficient, though. The flowers. He tucks them away. A couple, he'll pass to Yennefer or Jaskier to take a closer look at.

He glances up. It's clear he has no interest in staying here for longer than he needs to. He's itching to escape before the effects overtake his tongue. ]

Thanks. For your help.

I doubt you'd enjoy it anyway. I'm told that it isn't constructive criticism so much as it is me telling people off.

[Alucard's eyes remain on the flowers. Frowning at them, and looking to Geralt's pack.]

Pleased to do so. How are you ensuring that you aren't going to crush the flowers?

[ Amusement flickers briefly over his face. ] Sounds like someone specific told you that.

[ Geralt shuffles the pack over his shoulder. He starts to wander back towards Roach, who he's left a ways away to keep her from spooky any wandering bushes. From the ground this time. ]

Enchanted. [ He glances over his shoulder. Since their last run in, at least one thing's changed about his...state. ] Perks of a bonded witch.

In an extremely specific and devastating manner, yes. That it hasn't been held over my head feels like a small miracle in and of itself.

[Sypha basically calling him a moody teenager with a grudge was terrible and rude and extremely well timed.

Geralt may be taking the road, and as inclined as Alucard is to just go right back up to the trees, it's harder to converse. Something that is rare with Geralt but welcome.]

I suppose your problem got as cleared up as it can be?

Edited 2020-12-22 23:13 (UTC)

( CLOSED ) where the fields are painted gold

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sorry for the wait! I've been on hiatus

You're fine, I was in the middle of moving.

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