middaeg | ( OPEN ) february catch-all

No one is.

[Alucard knows better than to offer a statement he considers trite but true all the same - that the only way out is through. It's something Geralt already knows, and they rarely waste words with each other.

He pauses, then tilts his head slightly.]

Do you think coming out here might help? Being out in a wider expanse, where there can be a more natural silence?

[ For a few moments, Geralt doesn't respond. His boots leave muddy prints in the melted snow as they stroll further towards where the weather turns warmer. ]

I've never lived amongst people. [ He lives with them, where he must, but not among them. ] Townsfolk don't want my kind. The woods are simpler.

[ If not for Jaskier and Yennefer, he'd rarely return to Aefenglom, even if...it's not a bad thing, to have what feels like a home and a city that doesn't distrust him on sight. But this world remains a variable. The last thing he wants is to grow comfortable when he knows the life that awaits him once this city is little more than a distant memory. Which it will be eventually, whether that's a season from now or decades later. ]

[The question had been would bringing Jaskier out here help but well, never mind. There is instead a very soft, sympathetic noise from Alucard.]

They are. It's how I grew up. Safer, away from people and far, far from mobs of absolute idiots.

[A hint of heat threatens in Alucard's voice. He's no intent of bringing the full of his mother's murder into this, but the point remains: he gets it far better than most.]

Mm. [ Geralt doesn't question it; he assumes a man who's part vampire doesn't find much reason to fit in with the rest of the world, either.

Though between Alucard's brief mentions here and there—of a tragedy and a war and now mobs—he thinks it's not too difficult to piece together what might have happened.

Either way, he's carefully sidestepping any further discussion of talking to Jaskier. Doing so means bringing up a past not even Jaskier has been so careless as to ask him about. Not once they'd become...friends.

Maybe he should. He doesn't know. ]

Are you going to tell me you learned otherwise from your partners?

Am I becoming predictable?

[At least that tone is light. The laugh that follows is likewise, but with bitterness threaded through.]

Not at all. Trevor lost his family and lived a rough life apart from others since he was barely a teenager. Sypha's people are regularly understood as heretics or otherwise bringers of ill-omens, in spite of their ethos of doing good and bringing healing. We've all lived apart from the rest of humanity, and I think there will always be lingering preferences for being apart from large gatherings of people.

You have been. [ There's simplicity in how predictable, though. It's half the reason why he finds Alucard's company unobtrusive. He's rarely surprised by the conversations they have.

He absorbs that information silently, filing it away amongst the handful of pieces he's picked from Alucard over time. He winds around the path, making a turn that brings him back towards the city skyline. Jaskier might be awake by now. He should probably start home before they wonder where he got to. ]

Jaskier's lived a carefree life. [ It feels especially like something has been irrevocably changed because of that. This is the first time he's seen Jaskier mistrustful of people, quietly avoiding them instead of seeking them out. ]

That's a comfort, truthfully. [Predictable means stable. To be stable? That means Alucard's come further than he ever expected to when he arrived here, and that means a lot.

Moreover, a part of the dhampir quietly knows something else: if he ever had to admit to the worst of his own actions, there'd be precious little judgement for them. That is a greater comfort.

Geralt's change in direction is something that Alucard doesn't acknowledge. He just keeps moving.]

So he has no past experience in processing these things. [Trauma's survivable, but coping skills (even bad ones) make the greatest difference.] I'm sorry.

[ That response is predictable, too. It brings the faintest twitch to his lips as they trek over roots and half-melted snow.

He appreciates stability, too. He's missed it. Maybe a funny thing for a Witcher to say, one might think, but there's nothing more predictable than going from contract to contract, unattached. People are what make things complicated. ]

I suppose we all start somewhere. [ The edge of bitterness, he doesn't bother to hide. He doesn't know if it's better to have learned from an early age or not. Does going through some shit at boyhood give one a leg up? He'd wager some might tell him that's the case. (He assumes his mother would -- that it's part of his fucking destiny.) ]

Your people were safe, though. [ A question is in the statement. Alucard hasn't mentioned anything about his Bonded or someone he knows being taken—so either they weren't or Alucard doesn't want to talk about it. ]

Unfortunately so. And never for a good reason either. Just some person with more ambition than sense or consideration for others.

[It's a nice way to say fucking assholes. Because it's always a bad combination of ambition and lack of consideration in Alucard's experience. The bishop who murdered his mother wanted a promotion - a witch killing could help that. The village wise woman who alerted the man wanted her old job and respect back. The people responsible for the bullshit here wanted to be right.

Alucard's careful as he sidesteps a large root, huffing out. His breath condenses, then evaporates into the air.]

I only knew one personally, this time. We...[He has a strong disagreement for pretty much everything Hector has ever done but like, especially with the whole helping Dracula try to destroy Wallachia thing specifically.] dislike each other.

[ Ambition or fear, he thinks. Or a combination. Either way, he appreciates he doesn't need to explain himself much to Alucard, nor answer questions he'd rather not touch on.

He looks over. Curiosity flits across his expression. ] Did you leave him there?

[ The question is more to gauge the level of dislike Alucard is referring to. It's not only Alucard's disposition that's understated; most of his speech is, too. Dislike could mean anything from an irritating colleague to a blood feud. ]

I did not.

[It's a rather flat response, all things considered. Alucard's feelings on Hector have gone through some changes - the red hot fury of why did you help my father instead of guide him through grief? Don't you realize he might have listened to you? had abated quickly, but the assistance Hector lent was unforgiveable. They sniped back and forth as judgmental catty night world residents do instead. A livable compromise, as they seemed to always run across each other.]

I was raised better than that.

[ That grants something of an answer. The sound Geralt makes is thoughtful. ]

You were lucky.

[ Luck is not a quality he attributes to his childhood much, but on this topic, he sometimes thinks he was, too. There's far worse to have grown up under than Vesemir -- but one man can only do so much when it comes to wrangling dozens of boys without parents.

Though it does bring up a longing he rarely feels and acknowledges even less. He hasn't spoken to the old man in awhile, and he's not certain when he can anymore. ]

I was. And am, for the memory of it.

[Alucard's generally good at downplaying his feelings and hiding them under a polite mask. That doesn't happen in this moment. His mouth thins into a frown, and his eyes turn downward. Long blond hair provides a curtain that cuts off the rest, but the unsteady breath that follows says everything about the sudden upswell of emotion.

But this sure as hell isn't about him and Alucard knows it. Tension hangs too heavy, and the only refuge Alucard has left is a little bit of rudeness.]

Hector's still an ass though.

[ His gaze is askance. Geralt tends not to ask because that's the easy pattern they've established with each other -- Alucard volunteers information when he wants, and Geralt simply takes it for what it is -- but this time, he knows better than to ask.

He'd not be surprised, he thinks, if he learns later Hector were somehow involved with the death of his parents.

There's a quiet huff, a faint lift to his lips. ]

If we meet, I'll be sure to let him know.

[Hector was more accomplice to a terrible fucking idea, but Hector also has some bad understandings of ethics.]

Don't waste your breath. It won't impact him anyway.

Mm. [ At some point, Geralt will put two and two together, and realize Hector is the man that called Jaskier a specimen while they were held captive. But not today. Fortunately.

He stops at the edge of the forest, the wall and its gates looming up ahead. A part of him doesn't quite want to go back. It's been a welcome distraction, to talk of something other than the heaviness in the air between his Bonded.

Still. He can't leave Jaskier alone for long. He glances over his shoulder, and there's something gentler in his gaze not often seen. ] Take care of yourself.

[Look, if it gets to that point, please come find him Geralt. Alucard will shit talk Hector's approach to science and humanity for as long as you let him. He will in fact take great joy in doing so. ~~they should do this.~~

So they're back. It's a shorter walk than Alucard might have liked, but he can take advantage of the early light to run errands and then nap for a while. But perhaps one more trail, then to civilization.

He offers Geralt a small smile that's meant for solidarity. The situation sucks. Alucard doesn't envy going through it.]

You too. I'll be doing the same route the rest of the week.

[If you need to talk.]

( OPEN ) february catch-all

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