( SEMI-OPEN ) march catch-all

[gynvael]

Who: Geralt + Various
When: Mareuer // March
Where: Aefenglom; The Wilde
What: March things! Maybe TDM event prompts.
Warnings: n/a



CREDIT | spoilers

[ starters in comments. plot with me at discontinued! ]

OPEN: cats + orphans

CLOSED: yennefer | cloud | mogget

Comments

♞ open to all

[gynvael]

(( early march ))
I. CAT ACQUISITION

[ Geralt's never been one to blend in well, but if you happen upon him now, he's especially out of place: surrounded by a mishmash of Aefenglom's creatures deemed adoptable. A cat winds around his ankles, there's a bastard of a bird in his hair, and something that looks a cross between a dog and a lion barks at him from the corner.

He sighs. What a pain in the ass. He just—look, Jaskier's been spending more and more time in the stable out back. He gets it. There's comfort in an animal's company. The problem is, Roach isn't a housepet, she's a damn horse and he needs to take her often to ride.

So here he is. Looking for an actual pet for his Bonded. It's meant to be a simple affair. So much for that.

He ends up with an arm full of a small dog that seems to be mostly made of cotton balls. The shopkeeper seems determined to find him something for his troubled friend. ]

Don't you have anything... [ The pup wriggles in his hands. ] ...less energetic?

II. ALL WORK AND NO PLAY

[ It's been some time since he's traveled out of the city. The itch to venture further now that Jaskier is doing better means he's packed up his horse and made his way to Dorchacht. The Wilde is rougher in these parts, its people more desperate for a hand. A good place to find a job.

Besides. Something about the unpaved dirt roads and barely-held together shops makes him feel a bit less out of place. Parts of Aefenglom are far too pristine and shining.

There are no contracts he can see yet, but Geralt remains in the city nonetheless. A couple of days, he thinks. Jaskier and Yennefer both know how to get a hold of him if anything happens—but he trusts Yen will keep a close eye on their Bonded.

You can find him in a tavern in the city, drinking, or near one of the orphanages: some of the children seem to recognize him from a few months ago. The play, the one that Jaskier helped write. It feels like fucking ages ago. A lot has changed.

Despite his insistence he's not here to play, Geralt has invariably been roped into holding a replica Shade made of painted sticks and yarn while the children take turns smacking it. The touch of exasperation to his expression suggests this isn't how he planned on spending his evening. But maybe it says something he's here, anyway, humoring them. ]

I.

[cointosser]

[It's nothing new that Geralt is gone from the manor when Jaskier wakes, though the sight of it, every time, feels like another stone piled onto his chest. They've yet to discuss it, though he is quite aware it's from what happened to him. Something the experience brought up for his friend.

He'd only gotten a hint of it from him. And despite it, Jaskier always hesitates to bring it up himself.

He does manage to go out for walks for a bit of sun on the nicer days, his lute on his back whether or not he intends to use it. The weight of it is comforting either way, and his magic keeps it warm, his fingers alive now. (Even if sometimes he looks down and swears they're grey again.) He pulls lightly on the Bond sometimes to craft his magic, securing the feeling of it, of the magic. Sparks will fly, or soft wisps of smoke. He's been working more with heating his fingertips, or cooling them down.

Practice to perfect the spell. He promised Geralt some sort of charm to keep him cool, and it's only fair he aids Yennefer in controlling the temperatures of their home.

Speaking of. Just as he's on his way to perhaps visit the tea room -- for pleasure, since he let himself go once he was released from the Coven -- he spots his Witcher Bonded. With a wicker box in his hand, no less. Geralt? Shopping?

It's practically an impossibility.] Geralt! [He gives his friend a wave, curiousity piqued. These days he was just as like to leave the Witcher alone, but this time he simply can't. He must see Geralt shopping.] What are you up to out here, you scamp?

[gynvael]

[ It wouldn't be the first time Geralt's avoided Jaskier, but this time, it isn't that he wants to be left alone. It's that he's out here for...something he doesn't want Jaskier to see until he's decided to bring it home.

So of course the bard appears out of thin air. He sighs. His plan had been to leave the thing in Jaskier's room and claim he found it on the street before vanishing and never speaking of it again. Maybe he can still do so. The walls of the wicker basket are high. ]

Jaskier. [ A soft meow greets Jaskier from inside the basket. Shit. Geralt looks down, then decides there's nothing he can do except change tactics. He hands Jaskier the basket with a typical lack of ceremony. A small furry head pops out. ]

Here. Take it.

[cointosser]

[It is far from the first time Geralt has thrust something into his hands without zero to little explanation, but often those things are blood-soaked blades, or half-eaten bread rolls, or monster heads (particularly horrible).

This is. Confusing, actually. He stares at the basket. At the small, grey head that pokes out from the lid at the top.

It lets out a very diminutive meow.]

This is a cat. [A very small, blue-grey cat, so small that it could barely reach the top of the basket with its paws.] Geralt, I have several questions here. Why are you running off with someone's cat? Oh, is it haunted? Or for a quest? Finding someone's lost cat is very sweet indeed, for such a mighty Witcher -- Wait! Did you steal it? Why are you giving this to me? I will not be your accomplice!

[gynvael]

[ As Jaskier frets and theorizes about the cat, Geralt looks increasingly chagrined. He lets out a deep breath. This was a bad idea. He knew it was. ]

I didn't steal the fucking cat. [ He shifts his weight. There's a reason he wanted to simply leave it at Jaskier's door and not speak of it. ] They said familiars could have a calming effect.

[ It's company. That's all. A creature Jaskier can take care of and distract himself with and maybe use to aid his magic. At the very least, it's something Jaskier can talk to. Geralt knows they're...friends. They are. He's sat and listened to Jaskier often, even if his responses are few and far between.

But he also knows there are some things about what happened that Jaskier doesn't want to tell even him. And unlike Geralt, Jaskier does not do well with not being able to speak about it one way or another. So. The cat. ]

[cointosser]

Oh. [He clears his throat.] I should hope not. That's not like you at all.

[Which brings to question why he thought of it at all. He sets the basket down and opens the lid fully, crouching to see the kitten, now outraged it being acknowledged, mewling a tiny storm. He offers it a finger, which it bites with the tiniest of teeth.]

You can't use familiars. [Which... means...] Geralt. You got her for me? [He looks back up at his friend, all dark brows drawn together, annoyed. No, not quite. Not annoyed. But bothered. Very uncomfortable.

He bites his lip. Fuck. He lifts the kitten out and stands, holding it against his chest. Her claws pluck at Jaskier's doublet, though it helps her grow much more quiet.

A calming effect. Whether magic or nature, he feels it.] I see. [Thank you, he wants to cry. This was what he'd gone out to do. Get him a cat. A familiar. This tiny, harmless thing, who, thankfully, did not talk.

What a ridiculous fucking Witcher.] I'm not naming her Roach.

II

[twilightskey]

[In the latter half of the month, Roxas will have gathered enough strength to return to working at the orphanage once more. The staff has been more than willing to accommodate his recovery from his time kidnapped by the Emerald Circle, but he also knows that if he wants to recover, he can't be hiding inside all day. And besides, some of the kids at the orphanage miss him.]

[But while working at the orphanage and keeping an eye on the kids, Roxas can't help but keep an eye on the strange, white-haired man who the kids insist on playing with. The other staff members don't seem to have any distrust towards him, but after everything he's gone through Roxas can't help but be a little on-edge and defensive. Especially with the kids involved.]

[Though he doesn't actively approach Geralt yet, the akita turnskin does keep a careful eye on him, sometimes outright staring at him with his canine ears upright; a clear sign of caution and wariness towards the stranger.]

[gynvael]

[ Around these parts, he gathers a little less attention. There are Monsters who look rougher than he does, and both the children and the residents seem used to it. So when he senses the careful eyes of one boy lingering on him, it makes him glance over.

His own furry ears lift up, though more in a question than anything. The face isn't familiar. His clothes suggest he's not one of the local orphans, either. For a few moments, he leaves it alone. The boy looks wary, but that's all. When one of the teachers interrupts the children's playtime, Geralt takes the opportunity to break away.

He straightens up as he addresses the staring boy. ] They didn't draw something on my face, did they?

[twilightskey]

[Roxas doesn't recognize Geralt, and while he would normally just be curious, his ordeal with the cult has him more cautious than usual. The only reason he doesn't outright say anything is because the kids seem to recognize him, and the other staff seem to be okay with his presence.]

[Though, once the kids are ushered away by the teacher, Roxas isn't expected to be addressed by him, and he momentarily balks at the question.]

Ah, no... no, there's nothing there. [He frowns, ears angling to the sides a little, before he takes a breath and fixes Geralt with a guarded look.]

I haven't seen you here before.

[gynvael]

[ His expression softens some. He leans back against an old wooden pillar, splintered at the edges. ]

I was just passing through. [ Technically, Geralt has never stopped to actually visit or volunteer at any of the orphanages—here or in Aefenglom. But he does seem to allow the children to catch him a lot as he's passing through. ]

Knew someone who wrote them some songs awhile ago. He dragged me to watch all their rehearsals.

[ Jaskier had claimed the children would be disappointed if he didn't show, which was enough to make Geralt come along despite himself. ]

[twilightskey]

Songs?

[Roxas pauses, ears perking up a bit in confusion. Someone had wrote the kids some songs?]

Like a... bard?

[That was the word Jaskier had used, back in the cages.]

I. Catcquisition (hope this works)

[petcromancer]

[Hector's helped organize a shelter for strays within the city. Mostly it's an excuse for him to keep more animals than is reasonable for a man (or faun), but occasionally he'll judge someone worthy of adopting one of his strays.

He gives Geralt a long, assessing look, and reclaims the dog from his arms.]

Give me a moment, I may have a friend who could manage you.

[He puts the dog safely back behind a little gate and retrieves the sulkiest, most grizzled tom cat in the building. The cat is missing half an ear and has a crooked tail that tells of battles long past. It had taken no small amount of Hector's faun magic to convince the creature to the shelter. The cat looks thoroughly unimpressed with both monsters.]

What do you think?

[It is a cat Hector has picked to match the man in front of him, not the witch the man is shopping for.]

[[ooc: let me know if I need to change anything!]]

perfect

[gynvael]

[ The man that eventually comes up to him gets a long look of silence as the dog is retrieved and scruffy old cat is held in front of him. Geralt peers down at it. It glares back at him and hisses, showing sharp little teeth.

In truth, Hector is not off the mark for who he thinks wants a pet. It reminds him of an ornery old mare he'd had once before his current Roach. The faintest fondness flickers over Geralt's expression, even if most of that is overshadowed by uncertainty. He's never interacted with cats beyond steering clear of their rising hackles in his presence, until this world. ]

It's a, uh. A gift. For a friend. [ He leans to the side to avoid the cat's swiping claws. For such a battle-worn creature, it has a lot of spirit. Still, Geralt is not an expert gift giver, but he does know he shouldn't show up with a cat that's wont to scratch Jaskier up on first contact. ] Though a cat will suit more than a hound.

[petcromancer]

Damn. Here that, you ornery bastard? You're stuck with me for a while longer.

[The cat huffs, then thrashes his way out of Hector's arm and lumbers off to his favorite perch on a chair that is theoretically for visitors.]

What's your friend like, then?

[gynvael]

[ Geralt watches the cat occupy the chair in the way that only cats can. He glances back at his apparent assistant in pet finding. ]

He never shuts up for one. [ Despite the gruff way he answers, he appears to give the matter genuine thought. He's here in part because the Coven has suggested a familiar might ease the strain on the Bond while Jaskier recovers. He means to find something suitable for that. ]

Something he can talk to. Keep him busy. It's been... [ He pauses, not wanting to get too far into the details. ] Difficult. As of late.

[petcromancer]

A younger cat, then. That'll keep him busier than an adult would.

[Adult cats, like Old Ornery, were more self-sufficient, whereas kittens were more inclined to welcome more frequent affection.

He pauses. A kitten would also require more care. Hector could trust Old Ornery to this man, because that cat would outlive God out of sheer spite.]

How responsible is your friend? Does he have a stable home and resources enough to provide for an animal? I have a cat in mind, but I won't send her to just anyone.

II.

[outofthebreach]

[ It's been some time since Brennan's been out in the city as well - since the night of the rescue, in fact. He'd been bedridden for days in the aftermath, and after that had his Bonded fussing over him near obsessively. Not that Brennan could blame him, but still. It was nice to get out and stretch his legs a bit today. The shakiness and weakness he'd been plagued with in the aftermath were slowly receding and he was powering through the rest of the recovery process by sheer stubbornness.

He'd let his wandering carrying him aimlessly so far, no real destination in mind. But the sound of childish laughter has his lips curving faintly as he turns down a side street to investigate.

And then, spotting a familiar pale-haired figure entertaining them, he leans a shoulder against a nearby building to just watch for a bit. By the time there's a lull in the Shade-slaying, his lips have curved into an all-out grin as he approaches. ]

Playing the hero once again, I see.

[gynvael]

[ The familiar voice that greets him makes Geralt look up. Recognition crosses his face. Brennan, wasn't it? The man looked much better than he had that night. It's good, seeing people recover.

Physically, at any rate.

Geralt shifts. Hero is not a word he wants applied to him, really. He puts the toy Shade aside. One of its wooden legs has snapped, but he assumes this is a common occurrence given how eager the children were to smash it. ]

Came this way looking for work. Children pay terribly, though.

[outofthebreach]

[ One corner of his lips quirk a little higher at that, amusement deepening in his gaze as he eyes the laughing children hurrying off in another direction now, giddy in their 'victory'. ]

I don't know about that. I guess that depends on what you'd consider payment.

[ He's seen too much to take simple pleasures for granted. Even if it is the happy, innocent laugh of a group of children. In hard times, times of war, that became something far rarer than treasure. ]

But if you've time, perhaps I can pay back some of my debt to you to make up for it. Hungry? I'll buy you dinner and a drink. I heard there's a tavern around here that serves a decent meal.

[gynvael]

[ His gaze lingers on the children through the grimy window for a moment before he turns back to Brennan.

He shakes his head. The last thing he wants is to have anyone thinking they owe him a debt. Especially not for simply fighting alongside them. ] You don't owe me. Won't say no to a free meal, though.

[ He picks up his bag resting against an old stump, only the pommel of a single sword visible inside it, and slings it over his shoulder. As Brennan leads the way, he falls into step beside him down the unpaved roads. It might not have been his intention, but maybe a job can wait. He could use a night that only involves some rowdy orphans and drinks. ]

They let you home or did you escape bedrest?

[outofthebreach]

[ Brennan playfully presses a finger over his lips as he falls into step with the other man. ]

Shh. What they don't know, they can't drag me back for.

[ Which is... mostly a joke. ]

But no. They let me out. Although I think it was more that both my Bonded and I were about to drive them all mad than anything else. I've never been a very patient patient and my mage doesn't like being told 'no'.

[ The healers had managed to keep him quarantined for all of four days - enough to purify the worst of the Cwyld and speed him along the right direction for recovery - but after that, his Bonded somehow kept finding his way past the wards no matter what they tried to do to keep him out. And Brennan, if he knew how Dorian was doing it, refused to give away his lover's secret. ]

How is your Bonded doing? You found him, yes?

II. (in the correct place this time akjshfkjsdf) 🤡

[silentsavant]

[ It would have been easy enough for Soren to continue minding his own business with just a long glance cast the white wolf's way as he navigates the streets. However, things aren't easy when you're popular with the children of Dorchacht.

"Sowen!! Look, it's Sowen, the Dwagon!" pipes one of the boys waiting his turn to whack the Shade. Now that he's gone and pointed him out, most of the other children's heads turn and bob to spot the long-haired dragon boy. Despite his unusually slight stature, his winged, horned, and tailed silhouette make him a difficult mark to miss. He slows his footsteps cautiously, with an uncertainty that can't decide whether to stay or flee. The kids erupt with glee and excitement and begin to flock toward the black-scaled dragon. This creates a distraction for the kid currently wielding the stick, which gets usurped by an impatient little girl, and now they're tugging and warring and yelling at each other over whose turn it is.

"Come play with us!" cries a puppy Turnskin with his shaggy brown tail wagging at Soren. "Geralt's helping us beat a Shade!"

Soren eyes them all warily. He's been surrounded. They're actually starting to unnerve him. ]

... I don't play.

[ "That's a lie! You do too play!"

"Yeah!!!" "Yeah, remember?" "We sure do!" ]

[gynvael]

[ Like all children, their attention span is rapidly diverted. One minute they're intently smashing the wooden doll and the next, they've scattered to a new target. Geralt's pointed ears turn in the direction of the dragon before he looks up a few seconds later. That might not be a familiar face, but the expression on it is. It's the expression of a man who's been thoroughly cornered.

If Geralt were a more sympathetic man, he'd help him out. As it is, the dragon gets a raised eyebrow and a faint flicker of amusement. He offers the toy over. ]

Not going to say no to the children, are you?

[ Look, if he's been roped into this, someone else might as well join him. They're a damn handful. ]

[silentsavant]

[ So this is how it's going to be, is it? The dragon scowls up at the crudely strung toy and then the wolfish man holding it with a cross of his finned arms, expelling a soft sigh of exasperation the a similar shade to the one silently exuding from Geralt earlier. ]

I say no to children the same way I say no to adults. The moment I take that, you'll...

[ The children have a plan for the tactician. He twists around as he feels two small forms hook onto his cloak to climb him. One small hand reaches the base of his wings as leverage. He staggers in his effort to reach behind himself to dislodge them, wings folding out as if he means to beat them. They're awfully good at climbing, and one of the two little gremlins has scaled up to his shoulders, giggling with the delight of getting away with something as she fans her dirt-caked fingers out toward the toy. ]

Hey. What do you think you're doing?

[ "Duh!" ]

I'm not... a playground!

[gynvael]

[ Uh-huh. Geralt is unfazed; the children's familiarity with this Soren tells him the dragon has 1) not only allowed himself to be accosted, but 2) has been convinced to give his name on top of that.

Since Soren makes no move to take the toy, Geralt gives it to the girl atop his head instead. She beams, pleased with her conquest.

He leans back against a tree, watching—reaching up to catch a plush bear that sails through the air behind him. Mm. Some of them can truly aim. ]

You're the picture of delight. [ Despite his exasperation earlier, Geralt clearly has some fondness for the rowdy brats. Or maybe he's just enjoying the predicament on someone else. (Both, really.) ] They love you.