middaeg | ( OPEN ) february catch-all

They're healing. But my housemate's still pretty messed up. And so is her friend that's been staying with us because her memory isn't back to normal. And a lot of my friends were hurt or infected or both.

["Healing" is a big ask of only a few days removed from events that were traumatizing for pretty much everyone involved.

When Geralt looks her way, she's staring out into the forest as if searching for something. After a few moments, she feels his eyes on her and turns to look back at him.]

I knew people could be cruel and do awful things with power, but this really was something else, you know?

[The thing is, Rikku thought she was better equipped for all of this than she actually has been. She's used the cold, indifferent suffering wrought by Sin, or the xenophobic mechanisms of Yevon. Even in her more recent experiences, the worst behavior was reserved for major players going after one another or escalating to swift and vengeful genocide. This situation is much more intimate and horrible, with its kidnapping and torture and mind-games, and she finds herself at a loss on how to address the aftermath of it that lingers over people here she's grown to truly love.

Maybe that's why she's sitting here in the snow, harassing a stranger and opening up to him. Better to let it out to someone with no emotional stake in her feelings than to burden friends who are already overburdened as it is.]

I hate it.

Edited (forgot a few words) 2021-02-21 06:15 (UTC)

[ He's quiet while she talks and for some time after. He glances back towards the skyline and thinks of the sorcerer who locked up little girls and cut them up to study the supposed curse of their birth. Last he checked, the man sits comfortably in Ban Ard as rector.

He doesn't expect much to come out of this incident, either. A few executions of the underlings at best. It means little, changes nothing, and he hasn't paid attention to what token justice might be doled out by the city as a result. ]

You will for awhile. [ Was that too blunt? Probably. He's hardly any less so when he's sober, though. Geralt tips back his drink, then offers her the bottle, only vaguely aware of the concept of drinking ages present in the city. ] Eventually, you let life get in the way again. As it's wont to do.

[ Or else there's just hate, driving your path, and he's been there often enough to know sooner or later it comes back to yourself. ]

[Rikku's no stranger to this kind of bluntness from grown men, but that doesn't mean she's fond of it. She wrinkles her nose at him in response.

When offered the bottle, she accepts it, takes a sniff to assess its contents, and decides the spirits inside are far too much for her. She hands it back to him.]

I think I'm good--it's all yours.

[That settled, she considers his words a bit more and sighs. In her limited experience, she knows he's right. Growing up in Spira is a crash-course in letting life get in the way of dealing with tragedy and injustice, after all. People there don't have much choice--the only options are to find a reason to keep living or to find a reason to die.

Rikku has always preferred the former. Stubbornly finding a way to move forward is just how the Al Bhed are.]

That doesn't make what happened okay. But I guess you already know that.

[She flops backward in the dramatic way that only teenagers can truly manage.]

How much trouble do you think we'd get into if we made it our mission to make their lives harder for awhile?

[ The bottle goes back between his feet. He gives her a brief look as she flops onto the snow beside him, the soft crunch making the ears on top of his head swivel in her direction.

Her housemates must not be much older than she is. Between Killua and the others, he almost wonders if the Circle had sought out those who were younger more than anyone else. It would track. The mages took boys to be Witchers for a reason. An ugly reality.

The sound he makes in reply is faintly amused. ]

We? You've engaged me as a co-conspirator already?

Don't you want to do something about everything that happened? It's not like we have the power to do anything official, you know.

[Rikku has about as much faith in the system punishing the rich and powerful as Geralt does. She just has a difference response to it. Chalk it up to teenage energy and idealism.]

Or are you going to be like my dad? "Don't go kicking every hornets' nest you see, Rikku, or you're going to have a swollen face and nothing to show for it."

[She throws her voice comically low in her impersonation. It's a phrase she heard a lot growing up--'pick your battles' is an important lesson to instill when most of the rest of the world hates you for who you are, after all. Rikku just really, really wants that logic to not apply right now.]

[ Her put-upon growl pulls a huff from him that's the closest thing to a laugh most people hear. ]

Had an instructor like that. [ Maybe it says something, that he mentions an instructor and not his own father. He glances sidelong at her. Rikku, huh? ] He's not wrong. But I'll not stop you, either. Sometimes a swollen face is what makes us feel better.

[ Even if it comes to nothing. He gets it. There's a violence that's been humming beneath his skin since—restless enough it's driven him out here with a bottle in hand. Two people wait for him at home, though. There's nothing to be gained by chasing bottomless revenge except more blood spilled. He killed a lot of men that night. It changes little. Jaskier still wakes in the middle of the night crying, and Geralt still doesn't have a fucking clue what to say to him.

Besides. He doubts her idea of making their lives harder sits along the lines of his, unless she's considering shattering the same amount of bones. ]

See? You get it.

[It's about catharsis. He articulated it far more simply and eloquently than she could.

It helps, perhaps, that she's not looking to murder or destroy. Death is too common and capricious back in Spira for her to be willing to entertain the idea of using it as punishment, no matter how deserved. She's killed before, or rather fought to the death, but it's always been a matter of self-defense or in the name of defending Yuna. It's not something she likes to think much about.]

The instructor... is he the one who taught you how to fight like you do?

[Hope invasive small talk is okay.]

[ A flicker crosses his expression. He's never been asked that before. It's just a given, that a Witcher knows how to fight—and he suspects most assume they sprung that way out of the Trials. ]

Among other things. [ Geralt has often simply referred to Vesemir as a teacher or an instructor. A mentor, at most. It's more than that, though. Even his name was given to him by the old man.

Maybe it's the fact that he's thought of Vesemir more and more these days that he finds himself answering in more detail than he might normally. ]

He taught nearly all the boys.

[Rikku has the benefit of not knowing anything about this man and his world, so the questions don't seem to be that bold of unusual to her. The more he speaks, the more she simply assumes he grew up in an environment similar to hers. It's her best and only frame of references, after all, and he even has some unusual phenotypes to help support the idea. White hair, swirled green eyes; tomayto, tomahto.]

Did someone else teach your people's girls, then? We Al Bhed didn't separate education by gender, but I can see why some people might want to.

Not that. [ Though he realizes that's an easy assumption to make. A small pause passes. Even after all this time here, he's never certain where to begin answering, that won't invite a long tale of Witchers and how they're made. It'd been easier to rely on rumors, letting people believe what they wanted.

In the end, he settles on the barest truth. ]

We're not a people. Not the way you mean. [ Born into a society, that is. His finger runs over the lip of the bottle. ] Most of us were simply taken.

Ohhhhh.

[The man isn't giving her much to work with, but Rikku's bright enough to fill in some of the gaps. He's from some kind of fighting force, and probably was among the ones who were "simply taken." No wonder he doesn't seem to want to talk about it. It's probably upsetting for him, if he was kidnapped so young.

Rikku's curiosity is piqued, but she's able to muster enough social grace not to pry further. ~~For now.~~ Instead, she decides to cycle the conversation back a bit.]

Well, my offer is still open if you wan to help. I have it on good authority that rich people don't like you taking their stuff.

[ That's a conversation he's glad to let lie untouched. He looks over at her instead, an appraising glint in his eye. ]

Sounds like a lesson self taught.

[ She seems the type. He's hardly judging. There are worse crimes than a bit of thievery. His reluctance to encourage her is less to do with the morals of it. She's just yet to convince him he won't find out next week she's gotten arrested by the city guards. ]

I'm not going to hear about a girl caught pilfering someone's coffer, am I?

A girl has to do what she has to do sometimes.

[Rikku shrugs, making no apologies. Usually it's scavenging more than outright theft, but pickpocking gil and other necessities from warrior monks has had its benefits over the years. And occasionally the Al Bhed have dug up things Yevon insisted were Holy Artifacts That Needed To Be Returned. That was always a pain.]

I promise not to mug anyone in broad daylight, if that's what you're worried about. Even if that would be pretty funny. I bet they wouldn't know what to do.

[ He'd be mildly curious if she could pickpocket him and get away with it, except he frankly has not a damn thing on him other than a bottle of liquor. And maybe two cunes.

A bottle that's nearly empty as it is. He gives it a light shake, then tips back the rest. His gaze lingers on the horizon. The sky is beginning to lighten and he knows he eventually needs to get back to Jaskier. ]

Mm. As long as it's only in the dark, then.

( OPEN ) february catch-all

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