( CLOSED ) where the fields are painted gold

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: October // Octeuril
Where: Aefenglom
What: Quests, events, etc.
Warnings: none yet

[ prompts in comments. find me at discontinued for plotting. ]

Comments

[hearthebell]

[Had L encountered Geralt during a different point of time a version of him was through the mirror, his steel trap of a mind would have held onto it. Fortunately for the Witcher, L doesn't get out much.]

Have they?

[He sounds wryly amused, but not really surprised.]

Consider that to survive, as they had before being liberated, they'd have to grow fairly skilled at coercion. Their motives aren't malicious, though...

[He knows, as well as any former orphan, that love and acceptance is at the top of most's lists.]

Everyone does... Geralt.

[There it is, the title on the wagging tongues of the impressed babes.]

It's Linden Tailor. I volunteer here, but I'm afraid my presence and contributions are not nearly so worthy of tales as yours.

sorry for the wait!

[gynvael]

[ There's a hum that acknowledges what's being said. He neither confirms nor denies his own experience on the matter. ]

They like their tales. It was one damn cat in a tree.

[ Maybe a little more than that, but either way. In his view, it's not been much. The children undoubtedly have spun some stories. Not that it matters. Between Jaskier singing songs and rumors that spark like kindle, Geralt's long accepted he'll have a reputation of some kind, for better or for worse. (Usually worse.)

He tilts his head towards a room along the corridor. ] Here?

No worries!

[hearthebell]

[L speaks in a low voice, as if cognizant of the children who might be listening.]

The have so little. Maybe their stories are something that can be permitted, so long as no one's getting hurt. And yes... it's here.

[The room is marked as the infirmary, and a solitary nurse appears and immediately begins fussing over the little girl. "Sorcha! Climbing again! How will you draw your pictures if you break your arm?" She glances at Geralt and murmurs a hasty and terse thanks as she ushers the little girl in and closes the door. L gets scarcely a passing glance; either he's easy to overlook, as the slip of a thing he is, or she's just used to seeing him around, considers him more or less a part of the scenery.

He doesn't mind it, really.

The hallway seems very quiet, now that the quietly sniffling girl is being tended to inside. L clears his throat.]

Given their hunger for stories, and your propensity for having believable parts in them, you might consider volunteering in that capacity. This place is usually shorthanded, and entertainment especially is hard to find.

[There aren't really toys around, and L certainly doesn't look like a court jester. Probably accurate to assume the spindly, somber man would have an easier time carrying a grand piano than a joke.]

[gynvael]

[ A quirk of an eyebrow greets that remark. Protective, isn't he. Geralt's still not certain what to make of the man, though he's obviously been around enough that his presence goes unquestioned.

Geralt lets the nurse take over, stepping outside of the room to leave her to work. ]

Save your efforts. [ He leans against the wall just outside the infirmary. ] I'm not here in any capacity. Just happened to be around.

[ There are better suited entertainers and guardians than a witcher. He's little interest in being a regular influence on the children. Besides, the only reason he's been asked is because Linden doesn't know a damn thing about him beyond what he's gleaned from a handful of orphans. ]

[hearthebell]

[Guarded, perhaps. Protective might or might not be the right word; L keeps his secrets close, and always has.]

We both just dropped by. I just do it a touch more habitually, Geralt. I understand that not everyone can afford to, though, very literally.

[It's not as if anyone is getting paid. They all look tired and shabby, orphans and staff alike.]