☆ Event: A Tale of Two Cities

[faileas]

Event Log: September, A Tale of Two Cities

I. THE TRIP OUT On Septeril 5th, those who've agreed to go as dignitaries to Dorchacht will meet with Nerissa Bell in the Coven's foyer. Given the group is a little large, and the boat they've procured for the voyage would be a little crowded with all of them on it, she suggests there be two groups: the first one will go now and will return around the middle of the month, while the second will depart a few days after the first group returns, just to give them some breathing room. a. DIGNITARY: THE SHIP Those joining Nessie are led to the docks, where an old ship is being scrapped down, barnacles removed and hull shined to perfection. Sailors call to and fro from on board, buckets of water thrown off the side away from the docks and there's a tingle of nervous excitement from the gathering crowds come to wish the dignitaries and ambassadors a bon voyage. She's of a medium size, able to hold her crew and half of the assigned dignitaries with little trouble, and from top to bottom the moose-like Faun of a captain calls her a seaborn miracle; short of a sea wyrm, she's never faltered nor fled the waves, but he'll admit that she's been more a fishing boat than anything the past couple years. Judging from the way his tuffed tail lashes in excitement, he's thrilled to be out on a real voyage again -- even if it's to those notoriously unfriendly blokes 'round the corner of the map, haven't been in decades time and they've always been up their own arses about this and that. While dignitaries are supposed to relax the best they can on the four day trip, the captain doesn't seem to mind offering work to those interested in learning the way of the sea or with the know-how already, eagerly asking the Mirrorbound about their experiences beyond the glass... much more than he is about talking about himself outside of his ship, who he loves a great deal and sings the praises of up and down the hour, through sea shanty and spoken word. His large antlers don't seem to get in the way of his work nor bar him from getting in and out his quarters, but watch out! They are large and they do hurt. All's not well going to and from Dorchacht, though, as while the waters are safer than the land by far, there's plenty of dangers within the deep: Infected Merrow swim in the shallows, singing sweetly from rocks that jut out at the shore, and some more adventurous ones try their luck closer to the boat too. The captain's Navigator, a Witch with just as rowdy an attitude if more polite a tone, can manage a deafening spell on the ship to keep any from falling seaward, but asks that those who can to rid the ship of those terrible pests, whether by cannon, magic, or something else similarly ranged. Oh, it'd be perfectly alright if they killed them, plenty of them out here in the sea and growing ever more, but if they simply want to scare them off then by all means! There's also all manner of sea beasts as well, from krakens on the smaller side to the mentioned sea wyrms earlier, though the captain'll say that they're just babies compared to the mother he'd faced last year -- still troublesome little bastards, best put down before they're drowned themselves, but nothing to turn tail at. Outside of these... troubles... there's disorderly sailors of Monster and Witch alike, the former being compromised primarily of Turnskin and Faun for heavy lifting, with a Harpy in the crow's nest to help with speed, and the latter being those specializing in Divination and Astrology for directions, as well as some elemental manipulation from the Evocation course. Unlike the proper Coven trained, they seem like they're a little more unconventional with their magics, using "shortcuts" and combining spells to great effect. When they're not on the clock as it were they enjoy a great deal of ale, howling stories and song, pushing each other around whilst the journey's bright and startlingly serious when things turn south. Be careful you don't get in a fight, or perhaps you'd like to show your stuff in a little competition: They're willing to do anything to pass the time. b. ESPIONAGE: THE DEVICE Upon hearing that there are some who would be interested in investigating the device that Mhairi mentioned, a young Witch opens up the room it's being stored in now to allow them a chance to check it out. They warn that it isn't particularly cooperative, but maybe those with some knowledge of magitech - or their world's equivalent - might be able to help? While not exactly the largest device around, it's one that stands out. Something resembling a Tesla coil stands atop the piece of tech, tall enough to almost reach the ceiling of the rather tall room, and various dials and knobs and gauges adorn the outside of it. Those who are perceptive to magic - training in detection spells, or who have a good sense for it, or even a sixth sense for something poised to happen - will be able to note that there's a sort of... presence in the room. It continues to build up, the more people that come in to investigate. Anyone that tinkers with it, has active magitech on their person, or even uses magic in it, only help to build the sensation. And then, when enough Mirrorbound of both the Witch and Monster persuasion are in the room - A whirring noise fills the room, as the device comes to life. There isn't any time to vacate the room, because whether it was an intentional thing to activate the teleporter or not, it's activated. The intention of using it for travel to Dorchacht remains embedded in it, and from one moment to the next, the group in the room find themselves not in the Coven, but in the midst of trees. All around you is the forest just beneath the cliffs outside of Dorchacht. In the distance, if one looks hard enough, they might be able to spot the Black City itself. Besides the storage room of the Coven vanishing in a flash of light and electricity, the device is absent, too. Some of its smaller parts can be found scattered in the craggy grass at your feet, in the roots of trees, as if it completely fell apart the moment that the magic was activated. Whatever you had on your person, when you left? It's all that you have, now. And there's no way back from here. (Notes: Some small reminders - the boats take 2 days to reach Dorchacht, meaning they take 2 days to come back as well, and the teleportation device used by the espionage team is a one-time use only. The espionage team will be able to return to Aefenglom at the end of the month courtesy of some inside help, using a similar device that managed to bring them there in the first place. The Watches can be used on the ship, but are prone to static and dropping calls. Communication is possible from Dorchacht, though voice and video both feel a little muffled.)

II. DORCHACHT It's déjà vu. While Aefenglom is known for its dusk-hued skies, made of lustrous pinks and purples and blues, this city is dreary to the core. The streets are covered in a perpetual fog, not unlike the city you hail from, but thicker, denser, tinged with the flavor of industrial smog from the factories whose spires you can see in the distance. Magitech lights - lanterns above doors, street posts, flickering in the windows you pass - illuminate everything throughout the entire day, as if the sunshine can't reach through the foreboding fog nor the onyx walls. Even the windows are barred, offering a paranoid protection against the outside world. Doors seem hardier, and each building is reinforced and protected in a way that may feel familiar to those that have encountered the protective magic wards. They're heavier, leaving an almost ominous presence that causes unease to hang just as heavy in the air as the smog. The people of this city are just as dreary as the streets, though they do mill about with the same frequency as any city. Those from Aefenglom may recognize familiar faces, and they might find themselves looking twice at you, as if some part of them remembers you as well. Something seems... off, however. There are fewer Monsters in the streets than there were in the dream, though it isn't too hard to catch a glimpse of one here and there. The streets even seem a little more cleaned up than they once were, as one makes their way down them. At the heart of the city, dignitaries will be brought to the Coven. There, they're greeted by a slender and elegant woman, eyes bright and clever, but just as sharp as the red-lined smile that she offers her visitors. "Nerissa Bell," she begins, tone polite if clipped. There's the sense of a woman who won't waste words from her person, and she turns her eyes towards the dignitaries. "You must be the charges she spoke of. Mirrorbound, they call you?" A shallow inclination of her head, barely called respectful, as she smiles wider, in a way that would be kind if knives were made to be dull. "A pleasure. I am Morgana Drummond, head of the Coven here, and I welcome you to my city of Dorchacht, the safest haven against the Cwyld across all of our poor Geardagas." a. THE COVEN Morgana Drummond gives them a quick tour of their facilities, speaking lightly of the curriculum they have here that differs from Aefenglom's own (more of a focus in manipulation spells, be it the sort of commands that have become such a familiar sight to things such as perception and "paths" that can be seen through scrying, the other areas of practice more of "extra" than essentials) as well as allowing them to peek in on some lessons taking place. They won't be able to interact, but it is admittedly of a higher feel than what Aefenglom asks, though it's simply the seriousness of the atmosphere giving that impression. After showing them to where they'll be staying within the Coven's hospitality as well as mentioning the areas of their infirmary, library, and welcoming the Witches to try a hand at their lessons, she and Nerissa part from the characters as a whole to discuss the business of the month. There is a notable increase in guards, both around Morgana's person even within the Coven's walls, as well as the building itself. They seem to be in the business of keeping people on a kind of "railroaded" layout of the Coven building, but can be distracted for a quick peek -- the real help comes from those with triple stars hidden in plain sight, beneath the brims of hats and worn as idly jewelry and easily missed charms. These sympathizers will actively seek those out to speak with them, to let them know that even here there are those that would like to see change brought to Dorchacht, and assist in entering places that Mirrorbound otherwise would not be able to enter. Such as the library here, which contain higher level spells including the enchantments specific to the city walls. The history is just as muddled as it is in the later mentioned public library, the "when"s being vague and the like, but depicts Drummond's rise as the head of the Coven: She came to Dorchacht on a ship hailing from Aefenglom along with a number of other Witches and rose above the rest to become the esteemed leader she is now. Without her, many of the text will agree, Dorchacht would not be as it is now. Those with any notable signs of infection may be asked to step aside and allow Dorchacht's Witches to give them a check up -- better safe than sorry -- and this goes for Witches and Monsters alike. They'll be brought to the double doors that were so heavily secure within the dream, whether they'd like to be or not, and escorted inside. b. THE CITY Unlike the dream, things seem to be more... well-behaved. Auctions have been moved from the pavilion and in its place are genuine vendors to purchase from: Food, clothing, toys, trinkets, protective spell scrolls, all manners of things. There's still Monsters around, a little more tidy than before, but they hold the same stares they had in the dream, pinched expression and disinterested in conversation. There are signs that lead way to auctions if one is truly curious to see the extent of that terror, to gain insight on the situation there, but tailing someone might be hard within the twisting turns of the new bazaar. Another notable part of the city that can be accessed by those dealing in espionage include the barracks if they pose as hopefuls to join their ranks as handlers for their Monsters, which are collared in a familiar way to the dream, and seem reactionary to quick movements -- they're explained to be the essential frontline of what constitutes as a military force, very important, Mirrorbound Monsters beware you not suffer the same fate. The next place one might seek out is the library: While this is all deemed public knowledge, it offers insight into the kind of history and mindset that's been bred the past decade at minimum. Books regarding the dangers of Monsters, how to care and train them, practical spellbooks for those untrained by the Coven proper... The history books themselves are vague in regards to the "when" of things, and seem to be more contemporary in comparison to how old the city feels itself. There's a variety of more cultural knowledge such a cookbooks (including those dealing with monster parts) and floriography (more dour meanings compared to Aefenglom's flurous), but the relevant ones have been noted thusly. c. THE RESISTANCE Whether you're espionage or dignitary, those seeking the Resistance know what to look for: a trio of stars (some worn more openly than others), protests against the city's treatment of Monsters, and dispelling runes on the walls. Once proven that you're friend over foe, they're more than happy to have the assistance of any Mirrorbound in their company: A fight against the current practices is a fight they're for, after all. Riot! Disrupt the peace! The auctions, while a little more downplayed than in the dream, are still going, and the Resistance has good word on where they're being held in the grand city. Their goal? To cause a disturbance big enough to distract, but not big enough to catch Drummond's eye... that said, with her having to play the nice host to Aefenglom's associates within the main building, there's more to get away with. Free the Monsters! Whilst distracted, other members of the Resistance plan to dispel the runes in certain areas and smuggle off what Monsters they can, valuing quantity over quality. While the more mind-broken may resist heavily, it won't be hard to find Monsters of all kinds (save Dragons and Fae, which are notably absent from the auctions and city in general) accepting help to escape, eager to think for themselves once more. Find a way for them to escape the city safely, but know that the docks are heavily guarded in case of stowaways. Free the city! Kind of. A third party of Resistance members are looking to weaken the enchantment on the wall of Dorchacht itself, meaning they'll be looking for those brave enough to tread outside the city and into the Wilde just beyond its protective gates to take a look at and inscribe runes to hopefully diminish the compulsion in place right now. It won't be immediate, but it'll help in the future... just be careful, there's plenty of danger beyond the wall to contend with. As an interesting note, while the Resistances' bonded pairs are definitely unlike Dorchacht's compulsion-based ones, they're not exactly like Aefenglom's either: They call themselves comrades and partners, brothers/sisters in arms, giving it more of an equality forged from the same brass than something to do with convenience. (Notes: Those being willing, or unwilling, participants in the check-ups may reply to the top level there with how visibly infected they are for a special treat! Only for this month.)

III. AEFENGLOM Preparations for Meán Fómhair begin before Nerissa and the dignitaries head off on the 5th, but they seem a little quick even for the ever-festive people of Aefenglom: Apples begin the appear in great quantities to be used for later, some yellowed versus the red ripeness one thinks of when they're ready, there's hay bales tucked safely away for the days of, and there's little conversation to be made save for how things might be going in Dorchacht, though if any of the Mirrorbound try to join in they'll change the subject to Meán Fómhair in a split second, smiles thrown wider than the weeks before. Seems all is not quite as well as they'd like to appear. a. MARKET UP With the Parliament tense and looking westward, there starts to be gradual, but steady, increases in new appearances from some interesting individuals about the city. At face value they're no different than the vendors already found in great quantities, human and Monster alike, but one look at their wares proves different. The goblin market, as it's familiarly called, is somewhat accepted by the Parliament as something allowed to exist as part of their mercantile culture with Coven-approved medicines, alchemical practices, enchantments, so on and so forth, and only somewhat thanks to these known wares. Beneath these, with a dropped word or a curious eye, one can find things that are more than likely not sanctioned by either branch, things the vendors say can sate Monster and Witch alike without need of a Bond, though they decline to include the fact that such things are only temporary and that, like all hits, they'll need to come back for a greater quantity to get the satisfaction they need. Overpriced as they are (due to their private nature, it's high risk, surely they understand), they sell Monster parts of most kinds, Witch's Blood that may or may not be genuine, and what they call "extra strength" potions to mimic the feeling of a temporary bond without needing a second person to partake -- of course, you're welcome to share it, the more the merrier. However, this market hides a darker side, known more to those living among the aristocracy or who have the money and means to it, and characters are more likely to find themselves led there one way or another -- be it kidnapped or tricked, the black market isn't picky about how they drag their targets in. While Aefenglom prides itself in its fairness and equality, as in example with the goblin market not all is what it promises. Nowhere else is this more true than with the black market itself, using techniques familiar in Dorchacht to control their living wares, emboldened by the absence and turned heads of the government while remaining as discreet as they can be, they've ascended from the tunnels beneath Aefenglom to turn old houses into private auctions and the more deserted streets into bazaar-like adventures. Not all of these are unwilling wares, characters may find, and drawn by necessity for their own well-being or for their family's, but it's clear that a greater number are those from the Outer City. b. PROPAVANDALS Unbeknownst to Aefenglom's higher ups, Dorchacht has sympathizers of its own within this city's walls. While Bonds haven't been specifically dissuaded against, given that there's alternatives to the more permanent tethers, not all are in favor of changing completely. It's been ten years since Miss Bell gained her seating, such citizens'll say, and there's been decades prior where they hadn't needed that. That Monsterkind and Witches could be, and sometimes were better off, apart. Home remedies and extra practice, or finding a substitute, was all that was needed. More privately and growing in whispered popularity, that there ought to be more restrictions on the two in general. Once these words have started, both conversations planted as well as encouraged for thoughts already leaning a certain way, small attacks on those Bonded being to occur. They target the main populace and those with connections to the Coven itself, especially the Mirrorbound given Nerissa's alleged responsibility to them, and it seems they're well-practiced in hiding their activities because all investigations done towards the perpetrators, whether done by the Mirrorbound or officials themselves, will lead to only dead-ends outside the City. The culprits are hard to catch on foot, using the environment they'd grown up with to their advantage in escaping any manner of way -- it isn't just humans, but Monsters causing trouble as well -- but it isn't impossible... Just that they refuse anything but their right of silence on the accusations, claiming they'd had no part in anything, regardless of what proof might be found. The attacks and vandalism itself range from harmful messages appearing with magic on walls and doors, vaguely threatening letters written in ink that evaporates in sunlight, to fruit thrown and possessions left in tatters after breaking and entering. They don't stop at residential houses either, aiming for businesses held by those with any connection to the Coven, held by those with Bonds, and seek to cause any number of annoyance and distaste to those they attack. If it weren't for their Bonds, their Coven connections, they wouldn't be treated this way. That's the message they seek to send. c. UNEASY FESTIVITIES Come Septeril 21st, and lasting til the 23rd, Meán Fómhair is tentatively in full swing. The residents of Aefenglom are more on edge than during previous festivals save the red-hued Lithia, even once the first dignitary group has returned and the second left. There's barrels of apples decorating the street corners, but they don't seem as plentiful as they should. The games have a forced cheerfulness about them too, the unaffected being children who gleefully take part in each race, each competition, as well as the doctors with their cure-alls and promises of something to promote the harvest's delight, peddling medicine and medical advice to all who lend an ear with earnest grins and a profit to be made. The medicines are largely placebos with some possible side-effects for those that aren't, such as voice changes and intense cravings for various foods, but they seem to be very popular this year -- there's at least a couple merchants talking up the good fortune Dorchacht's stress has brought this year to one another, quieting down when they catch outsiders eavesdropping. With the continued attacks on those Bonded and Coven-affiliated, with one of their Speakers across the continent and the other sorely wrapped in Parlimentary business dealing with the attacks, the city holds its breath and tries to endure. Tries to be bright and cheerful while keeping obvious supplies behind their counters, to keep fright from their expressions and mind lest it invite the Cwyld to their midst, and ultimately drawing apart from one another in a time where unity is more than needed: Time will tell what actions might sew shut the new wound struck across Aefenglom.

Welcome to September's event log! The questions thread is split into two this time: one for Dorchacht, which can be found HERE, and one for Aefenglom, which can be found HERE. Please keep questions to their respective cities! This'll help both us and your fellow players in sorting information. Additionally, this event is a little special - we've prepare an OOC post to go along with it. Check it out over HERE - don't forget about it, as it'll help us see how things'll progress in the cities!

Comments

[weirdnecro]

[She would be delighted once she knew he was a nerd. So happy. But hearing that idea made her chuckle, and tweak his nose.]

I'm sure it was very scary, and I get that. But did you not hear me when I said killer infectious mermaids?

Not to mention they do have sea wyrms. It's teleport or bust for you I'm afraid.

[Poor weenie.]

[niespodzianka]

I'm a witcher, [ he says, like it's a viable answer. But hey, it is. He deals with shit like killer mermaids on the daily. No matter that even with his superhuman stamina, he'd absolutely get tired and eaten and/or just drown. ]

Hmph.

[ Geralt understands the efficiency and necessity of teleporting, but his dislike for them isn't exactly illogical. People get fucked up in them all the time. ]

Guess I'll just have to conquer Dorchacht and live here forever.

[weirdnecro]

You may be a witcher, but you're also one man.

[She shifts a bit, getting comfortable. She doesn't know his deeds, but she's pretty sure he has to sleep sometime. It's not as if he can catch a boat back, with him trying to be a sneaky boy.]

I don't want to keep travelling back and forth. If you do it, I'll give you something nice.

[niespodzianka]

Oh yeah? What's the bribe?

[ As if something like 'conquering' would ever be on the table. Pfft. Geralt loathes war and is exhausted by all who might find it a viable option. Logically, he understands the necessity of it on a macro scale, but there's just nothing worse. If they can avoid it here-- they have to. ]

[weirdnecro]

I mean, I was going to go with not using you as teleportation spell practice but...

[That's mean. And she'd rather not go into war. It sucks. There's a reason why she's been trying to get people to find their chill.]

How about I buy you dinner?

[niespodzianka]

Mm. If we ever get back, sure.

[ She will, she's got a boat ticket. Geralt may have to swim overall. ]

I've been less than well-behaved. I gotta start keeping a lower profile.

[ So hanging out in a mixed restaurant, out in the open, is probably a no-go. He's not exactly generic-looking, and knowing his luck, somebody will recognize him from starting shit at the auctions immediately. ]

[weirdnecro]

We'll get back. Just woman up, and take a teleport back.

[She shook her head, and sighed a little. She wasn't surprised that he had been a little bit...well, helpful.]

We'll have to have that dinner once we get back then. Do you need help in blending in or anything? Or you good hiding out for a bit?

[niespodzianka]

You're assuming there'll be one. Everyone who went over like this did so understanding it might be a one-way trip.

[ And Geralt did it anyway, because ... why not. Felt better than doing nothing. He'll die eventually in Aefenglom regardless, if there's no way back home. The way this world is heading suggests there won't be any salvation from the disease. ]

I'm alright. Not my first time on proverbial wanted posters.

[weirdnecro]

I like to think positive. It'd be a waste of resources to leave y'all stranded, not to mention piss the rest of us off. It's a bad message. I'm sure you've thought of it too.

[Because really, that'd mean a back lash between the mirrored, the locals...and while there were few of them, they were potent and strong and tended to do things when pissed off.

And frankly, Sokie had no plans on dying from the disease or from old age. She'd go back and regain her semi-immortality.]

But still...you, a wanted man? Mm. That's hot.

[Sokie drawled the words. While she meant it, more or less, she was also making fun of everyone who found the robin hood types attractive.]

[niespodzianka]

[ He's thought of it, sure, but his faith in people is not as strong as Sokie's. (Then why'd you come, Geralt?? Yeah yeah whatever, he knows he's a sucker.) He leaves the topic for now, because he doesn't have anything to add besides further pessimism, which he knows is neither constructive nor interesting.

Instead he rolls his eyes at her, and then tips his head back, letting his eyes fall shut. Mmm, relaxing hot water and comfortable person. ]

Framed for murder. Which is funny, with how many people I've had to kill in my line of work, and how nobody gave a shit.

[weirdnecro]

[Geralt. Geralt please. But yes, they can talk about other things while they cuddle, which she will deny is actually cuddling okay. ]

It's about who you kill. It always is.

[She sighed, and reached up. She just wanted to do something with her hands and his hair, wet as it was, was it.]

I could go on and on about it, but I feel like you'll turn into the sour kind of cranky. Not the fun kind. And I'm sick of sour right now.

[niespodzianka]

[ His hair is slightly tacky from sweat and dirt now that it's wet; it needs a proper wash, which he'll do before he gets out. Magic water is a weird thing to consider, but at least it means it'll clean anything that gets into it, like gross witcher hair sludge. ]

What are you talking about? I'm always sweet.

[ Like a mutant pie. ]

[weirdnecro]

[Gosh she loves this magic water. Braiding it and all, she itches to just wash his hair. It's so nice and soft when it's clean! Take care of your hair Geralt gosh! Aren't you sensitive to smells??? ]

Geralt, if you're going to lie, you should stick with a believable one.

I know you're a cranky but sweet boy by now.

[niespodzianka]

[ Very sensitive, and that's why he's here. But he does acclimate quickly to things that a present constantly, like anyone else, which is fortunate for someone who lives on the road without regular access to bathing. Just dunk him, Sokie. ]

Why does everyone always call me cranky? [ he complains, crankily. Probably, because whining is one of his favorite hobbies. One of the other patrons laughs, and is shushed by her companion. It's fine, everyone's in close quarters in here, he can be heckled. He will endure. ]

[weirdnecro]

Because you're adorably cranky and a big whiny baby. But you're cute, so it's easily forgiven.

[Gently, she pulled on a lock of his hair.]

Dunk your head, would you? Your hair is nasty. I'll get you some soap to wash it properly.

[She didn't really care that there were people watching and listening. They were just friends having some conversation.]

[niespodzianka]

[ Geralt pulls a face at all of that, especially the baby bit, but he can't object without proving her right about being a big whiny baby. All he can do is glower half-heartedly at her, though the effect of even that is ruined by his messed up hair and the fact that she's on his lap. ]

Alright, alright.. [ only a little muttering. Geralt shifts so that he can get far enough away from the bath's wall to dip his head down, and scrubs through his hair with one hand to make sure it's soaked. Feels good, actually. Mmph. He looks like he's ready for a nap when he resurfaces. Also like a weird, albino rat with his hair all plastered back, probably. ]

[weirdnecro]

[The look makes her cackle. She's thoroughly blasted him into the corner, poor man. But he's good about her being so rude. He didn't dump her into the water again, for one.

So she took that as her cue to squirm out of his grip and find some shampoo and soap bar. It doesn't take long, but when she comes back...she laughs a little, seeing his hair plastered down like that.]

Stay awake. I need to get behind you to do your hair.

[Don't make her poke you Geralt. She'll do it. Woman has no limits.]

[niespodzianka]

[ Continued domestic abuse!! He'd say elder abuse if I was sure about anyone's ages or awareness of those ages. But whatever it is, Geralt faux-grudgingly tolerates it. Faux because someone else washing his hair actually sounds pretty great. The only thing better would be if they were alone, and...

Oof, not now. ]

I should probably shave, too, [ he reflects, scrubbing one hand across his face, which is sporting a proper beard by now. ] Might help with getting recognized if I rotate.

[weirdnecro]

[That'd only be funny because she's far older then him. At least she'll be good about washing his hair. If they were alone...

Woof,not now not now. Later. Later when it's safe.]

Oh yeah?

[She starts scrubbing away, in the rough but soft way that one can only do with hair washing.]

It's not a bad idea. What about dying your hair? Be a shame to dry it out but...

[It's better then cutting it. She likes his hair long.]

[niespodzianka]

[ It feels good. Geralt lets his shoulders relax, head tipped into her hands, zoning out a little. Things like this are the just the right cross-section of practical and intimate to really get him like an overgrown satisfied housecat, who just wants to curl up and be pet. ]

Hmmn? [ What? Using his brain? Now? ]

I dunno, I look weird. I should just make friends with somebody who can glamour my face for a few hours here and there.

[ He certainly can't do it. ]

[weirdnecro]

You don't look weird, you look noticeable. Not to mention attractive.

[She gave his ear a gentle pinch and a tug, before going back to washing. This is nice, though she'd shy away from calling this intimate. The scandal! It's just friendly! ]

I don't have illusion magic yet, but you'd be surprised what you can do with makeup.

[niespodzianka]

[ Attractive is something Geralt will always be puzzled to hear, being so conditioned to being something people are afraid of, and often quite literally being run out of town with torches and pitchforks for being a mutant. His magnetism is always something he's rationalized as the freak factor. Sorceresses want to fuck a witcher because his touch feels the way it does, and they can feel it most intensely. Everyone else-- he's a novelty, he's a fascination. And he can't knock them up.

He huffs at the ear pinch. (He just means it's familiar and personal, Sokie! Intimacy is a broad word, cuz English blows!) ]

Uhhh. [ Makeup. ] Pass.

[weirdnecro]

[She thinks he is. But then again, they also had that confusion before, if about her. She was used to being seen as...lacking in the attractive department. Wasn't quite good enough, wasn't quite enough to be pretty. Scary, terrifying? Yes. (But she happened to like being able to intimidate people who knew her by repute, so.)

But yes English isn't great but hey, at least he didn't say the word and stop the hair wash!]

You know I don't mean rouge and eye shadow, right? I meant covering up the scars on your face.

[Though she'd get him in lipstick somehow if he didn't like her plan. Because reasons.]

[niespodzianka]

[ All women are beautiful, though. Men are collectively unfortunate. Geralt knows these things. Source: is male.

He lets out a rough exhale, implying a laugh. ]

You'd have to get clay like covering a hole in a wall.

[ His scars aren't the pockmarks of acne or fever, but the leavings of wounds that would have been fatal on a normal human. Valleys of deadened flesh, some still ugly and red, made by things so magical or so toxic that his skin will never return to a 'normal' pigment or texture. ]

[weirdnecro]

[She'd smack his butt for that. In a good and bad way because...well because. She made a rude noise under her breath, and brought a soapy hand to lightly graze over the teeth scar on the shoulder.

It's a testament of strength, she thinks, but that's not here nor there.]

It wouldn't be that bad. But it'd be more difficult to see through then illusion. Witches and monsters can see through that.

[She gives the back of his head a good scratching. Just because.]

Because I'm not giving you my don't notice me spell.