October catch-all [closed]

[curruid_coinchenn]

Who: Berserker (Cú Chulainn Alter) and various
When: Throughout Octeuril
Where: various
What: lots of things
Warnings: Some NSFW threads, warnings in headers

Comments

For Waver, NSFW

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ The events in Dorchacht hung over Berserker like a dark cloud. Normally, he protected himself from such things with his apathy. That's the purpose it served more than anything: protection. It's why he grew so cold and why he shut himself off from his emotions. Unfortunately, it wasn't possible to rely on that any longer -- his Bond with Diarmuid broke down the walls he'd spent so long building up. Now he was forced to deal with the discomfort of the atrocities he'd witnessed instead of just looking upon them with indifference.

One of the things that bothered him so much was what happened with Waver. Why did it upset him to see what had happened, to see how Waver reacted to realizing what happened to him? Well...He needed to confront that now. He hadn't seen much of the turnskin since returning from Dorchacht -- it was better to give him space than to try to force anything.

Now, the time feels right. The opportunity is here and he'd already dealt with uncomfortable things this month (bringing Scathach over for dinner and a long overdue conversation was not fun), so what's one more? Steeling himself, he stands in front of Waver's door. It's a few moments of uncomfortable trepidation before he knocks. For someone usually so decisive, the hesitation is strange. ]

Waver, are you in?

[tryhard]

[ Waver knows Berserker is around; he can sense and smell him even through the door, but it's the sort of knowledge that fades in the background comfortably. Berserker is someone who can come and go as he pleases, and his presence is an expected and welcome part of the den apartment. So the knock catches him by surprise anyway. ]

Yeah. Come in.

[ He calls back, turning in his chair as the door opens. He's sitting at his desk, paperwork strewn over it. Some sort of alchemic formulas or something. ]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ He lets himself in and shuts the door behind him. Berserker really doesn't know what to say, he's just relieved to see Waver in one piece and in control of himself. Caring about people is strange and unwelcome still. He lets the silence linger for just a moment longer as he tries to compose his thoughts. ]

After what happened...I just wanted to check on you.

[tryhard]

[ ...ah.

Waver's casual grip on his pen tightens, shoulders stiffening visibly. He swallows, then nods. ]

Thanks... I'm- I'm okay.

[ He'd thanked Berserker then, and again on the ship back to Dorchacht once he'd composed himself more. He suspects Iskandar had thanked him too, but Waver himself had still been shaken and hadn't talked to Berserker very much beyond expressing his brief but earnest gratitude and spending the majority of that trip in his cabin. And after that, he'd learned that Berserker had actually gone back.

Waver takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly and setting down his pen. He stands. ]

You really helped me out back there.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Half the reason he went back at all was out of the simmering anger from that incident; he wanted to see the city pay for all of the atrocities. To actually care again is ... weird. At least he did something productive with the anger caused by caring instead of letting it fester inside him.

Berserker manages a brief, but genuine smile. Being thanked doesn't happen very often because he doesn't normally do things worth being thanked for. A bringer of chaos, destruction, and death isn't someone people want to thank for anything. ]

I did what I had to do. [ It's how he excused his actions: practicality. ] You would have done the same if I'd been in that kind of position.

[ If their positions had been reversed, there would have been larger problems.

Still, though, it feels like he didn't do enough. He doesn't know what "enough" is. This is so far beyond him and partially why he's here now -- he feels like there's more he can do for Waver to make sure he's actually okay. Emotions are hard when you're so used to not having them. ]

For Everett, NSFW

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Octeuril brought rain, much like October brought rain in his homeland. It's familiar, though not quite in a welcome way. It's annoying. It had been overcast on his way over to Everett's cottage, but it didn't seem like the sky was going to open up like it did. He at least tries to shield himself with his wings from the sudden downpour, however it's just a losing battle.

He's very tired of getting soaked in this place. Between the dunking in frozen water and the unexpected bath from an overzealous cooling spell, the rain is at least not completely frigid. Still, he's wet and so are his clothes. Maybe he'd have to start carrying a change with him just in case.

Soaked and annoyed, Berserker knocks on the door. ]

[rollfordiplomacy]

It's open! Come right in!

[Everett doesn't generally lock the door, but he especially doesn't lock it when it's storming outside. Someone might need to come in for shelter, after all! The man is a bit... overly welcoming, in that way. He didn't have an ounce of fear for home intruders, he'd happily welcome any stranger that walked into his cottage to escape the rain.

He's not quite expecting Berserker to step in, drenched through.]

Berserker, my dear! It looks like you went for a swim. Please, the hearth is warm, go settle by it. Shed some of those wet clothes, I will get you a robe. [the cottage is at least warm and very cozy, tidy as Everett presented himself. He's a bachelor, but no slob.]

[curruid_coinchenn]

I came to pick up a plant, but it seems like the weather had other plans for me.

[ Apathetic as ever, yet still managing to sound annoyed. He leaves his shoes by the door and goes towards the source of warmth. Dragons don't like to be cold and this is an advanced sort of cold. He strips off the clothing on his upper body, leaving it on the hearth to dry at least a little bit. ]

You don't need to get me anything, I'll be fine.

[ He's not going to reject the hospitality, though -- some things couldn't be erased even by the Grail. ]

[rollfordiplomacy]

Nonsense, nonsense, you'll chill to the bone if you don't get out of those clothes. AS fine an excuse as any, isn't it? [he teases and flirts at once. His hearth has a coat rack by it, with his own coat hung, but plenty of room for other items to be set to dry. He gestures to it, a lounging robe hanging there, as well]

That robe should fit around your waist. Afraid I don't have anything that would accommodate for those wings of yours. [he does turn his back to give the man some privacy, busying himself to go out onto his back porch to retrieve a tobacco plant he set aside for gifting, calling back to the man cheerfully]

My plants are thriving this weather, you're in luck there!

For Monika

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ It was a long night on shift at the bar, more unruly customers than he cared to deal with. At least this time he didn't come home with blood on his shirt. Berserker's not particularly paying attention to where he's going -- whether he wanted to admit it or not, his mind was elsewhere. Dorchacht still hung over him like a dark cloud.

This is why he runs into someone. He comes to a stop and looks down, realizing he knows this someone. Oh. This is awkward. Still, he offers her a hand. ]

I didn't see you.

[ No pleasantries, no nothing, just an explanation. ]

[loadme]

[Honestly, why can't people just what where they're going? It wasn't that hard...

Oh.

Him again! It'd been a while.]

That's okay!

[Monika refrains from saying "Don't worry about it" because of who she was dealing with.

She takes his hand and uses it to get back on her feet.]

We haven't seen each other in a bit. You're looking okay!

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Berserker narrows his eyes for a moment before he lets the familiar apathy wash over him. Let it go, bury the feeling, ignore it. Push away the emotions. ]

You act like nothing happened...Why?

[ Blunt as ever... ]

[loadme]

Just because we had a bit of an argument doesn't mean I should change how I interact with you.

[Does he even consider it an "argument?" Probably not, knowing what she knows about him.]

And I'm not the type to hold grudges.

[Debatable.]

[niespodzianka]

[ The tavern looks like, to Geralt's eye, that it used to be a small theater - tables and alcoves up in the rafters of the place like a mezzanine, though if it ever had a stage, it's been long torn down. From up here they can look down at the main floor, but the figures are obscured by netting and small enchanted lights on strings, which offer dim light that meets a low threshold of usefulness.

Sure, they could have gone to the Sly Seadog, but Geralt's sick of running into thirty people he knows there. This place is quieter, more private - maybe an implied thread of menace running through it, opportunities for knives in the dark, especially after the tension that befell the city in the past month. But that's not exactly a worry for these two. (Gods help any sketchy black market dealers or anti-monster rabble-rousers who run afoul of them tbqh.) ]

Well, here's to the Resistance, I suppose, [ he says, holding up a small shotglass of vodka. ] May they crush Morgana.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ It doesn't help that Berserker typically picks up shifts at the Sly Seadog. Too many people know him there for him to want to drink there when he's not working. He prefers his bar experiences less personal. This is a nice change of scenery, with company he doesn't mind.

He raises up his own glass with a little nod. Vodka's not his preferred drink, but in the end, liquor is liquor. ]

And put her head on a pike.

[ Down goes the shot without so much a change of expression. The burn is familiar and comforting, a lovely change of pace after last month. He twists the empty glass in his fingers for a moment. There's plenty that can be said and asked after what they experienced, but it's almost unnecessary. They aren't really the type to discuss their feelings (to say the least). ]

If I have to go back to that city again while she's still in power, I'm going to raze it...

[ That might have more impact if there were any passion or emotion behind his words. Cold apathy settles onto him like a comfort blanket. ]

[niespodzianka]

[ Down it goes, near tasteless, which is what Geralt prefers in booze - though he's not picky, ultimately. If (or rather, when) they finish off the small carafe brought from the bar, the next round can be on Berserker. He sets his glass back on the low table, the clink of it barely audible, swallowed by the dampening effect of the dreamy decor. ]

I think if anyone has to go back, it'll be for that reason and that reason only, [ he says, his shoulders moving in a small shrug. ] It's clear the government here is in a bind. Open conflict with another city while the plague is roaring would be a death sentence for everyone in both places, but now that Nessie's seen it, she'll be able to bring it to Parliament and have a plan stashed away to level the place if they start eyeballing expansion.

[ .. or, you know, so he's guessing. It's not impressive to him that Nessie didn't want to openly support direct action, but he gets why. What's worse, a part of a population suffering because of enslavement, or all of a population dying because war? There are moral levels to that Geralt isn't equipped to navigate. ]

But for now, we're done with it.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ A war is something neither city can afford right now, but it would be far worse for Aefenglom without an actual military. Berserker's not interested in getting involved in another war, more than happy to leave that part of himself behind permanently. It's unlikely it'll be permanent, though, but the longer he can avoid it, so much the better.

As far as Geralt's assessment, he can only agree. Such affairs are not his concern, really -- he'll protect his way of life here as he sees fit. Anything that supports that, however, is welcome. He pours them both a fresh shot. ]

If she's smart she will, anyway.

[ He decides to leave it at that. There are other questions he's had on his mind. Mostly, he's curious about Geralt himself and what sort of life he's led. He's not interested in prying too much, though, just finding out what he can. ]

You're good at what you do...but you've lost the passion for it, haven't you? Has that kind of work become routine for you, too?

for Ozymandias, NSFW

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ It's been a long night. Berserker is still in a semi-feral haze after some extremely questionable decisions. Instead of going back to Diarmuid's apartment, he returns to Ozymandias' mansion, partially because it's closer to the epicenter for the rioting. He needs to wash up, get the blood off of him, and check on his ally (whether he wants to admit that or not).

A quick bath later and he goes back into the main area of the house in nothing but a pair of pants. His hair is still damp (and so is the newfound fur on his dog-like ears, wings, tail, scales) and his body shows some recent marks on his back and neck. Somebody's been busy. Now, then other thing he's looking for. He makes his way to Ozymandias' room and knocks on the door. He's half-expecting to not find him here, given the madness of everything going on in the city. ]

Ozymandias. Are you in?

[ His voice sounds a bit strained -- he's still having some trouble keeping full control over himself. ]

[fulgency]

[The answer for Berserker's knock from the other side of the door is nothing more than a low growl.]

[Most affected by the mists have been running loose and wild on Aefenglom's streets, looking for prey and fights that satisfy feral instincts that have so unfortunately coincided with the full moons. But Ozymandias has not ventured out quite so far nor for so long, instincts compelling him instead to guard what's his rather than seeking out a hunt. The mansion may be shared territory, but there's no mistaking his room as his.]

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ Every instinct in him is telling him to turn around and leave. Whatever's behind that door is ready to defend itself and he's not quite in the mood for a fight. The need to ensure the safety of one of those he considers close to him overrides his flight instinct.

Berserker opens the door and steps partially into the doorway, every bit of him stiff and on edge. ]

...Ozymandias?

[fulgency]

[It's a tail that ends up lashing about rather than claws at the door opening, proving Berserker's instincts correct. It's about defense rather than offense, and the increase in Ozymandias' growling serves as a final warning.]

[Prior to the interruption, Ozymandias had been lounging on his bed, readying himself for a moment of peace and quiet, and perhaps a little rest. But he's alert now, pressing himself closer to the head of the bed with his legs under him enough that it will only take the barest of shifts to be on his feet.]

[But once Ozymandias lays eyes on Berserker, he's able to let go of the tension. Some of the tension, in any case. It still feels like an intrusion having the dragon in his space, but given that he's carefully decided to only partially enter, it makes the action a little less offensive than it might otherwise be. It doesn't seem like such a direct threat and he's able to settle.]

What do you want?

[His voice isn't so much strained as it is rushed, the words coming in a quick burst rather than his long monologues.]

post event thread.

[escardos]

[ flat left the healers as soon as they told him that he was in good enough condition. being cooped up in bed was just not his style, especially surrounded by others that may or may not have been injured by him, too.

with the mist gone, most of the citizens had turned back to normal, the chaos that came with it dwindling. people gained their sanity again, many of them unable to remember just what had happened in that haze. and while flat definitely felt more himself, his memory during those days was as clear as water.

for the most part.

and one of the things that he remembers...it most definitely had to do with berserker. a murder. the thought of the act itself doesn't make him feel much of anything, but the fact that he had involved someone else in it does. and what happened after that...well, he doesn't want to think about it.

heading to the docks, flat doesn't really have anything in mind. he simply feels more at ease there, surrounded by all the people and noise. but when he sees berserker from far away, he immediately makes a beeline towards him, running as fast as his somewhat injured body would let him. ]

Berserker! I'm so glad I caught you!

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ The docks are noisier than he'd like right now, but it's better that he's here right now. The fisherman leave him be -- they're not the type to start up a conversation for no reason. While he doesn't quite enjoy fishing, it's still something he's good at and there's a practical purpose to it. It's only when he hears Flat's voice that he raises his head.

All the fur coating is gone from his body and the dog-like ears are no longer there, too. Gone are also most of his memories from the full moon, aside from a few flashes here and there. His encounter with Diarmuid is the clearest as it happened before his feral instincts almost entirely took over, but everything after that is a haze. He should really check in with everyone he can remember...

Shaking that thought from his head, he turns now as he sets his rod down. Hm...That's not good. Berserker doesn't really remember the murder more than pulling the bones from the body and dumping something in the ocean. He does remember Flat being there and something bloody happening. ]

Why is that?

[ He doesn't comment on Flat's condition, but he's annoyed. Of course he got injured the moment he left him alone. ]

[escardos]

I wanted to apologize for what happened during the whole mist thing!

[ though he says it cheerfully, the smile he has on his face is somewhat awkward, like he's trying to find the proper expression to have while apologizing. it's honest, but lighthearted--he might as well be apologizing for spilling milk or breaking a vase.

he continues, however, doing his best to put his emotions and words in order. ]

I shouldn't have asked you to help me torture and kill someone. So I'm sorry.

[curruid_coinchenn]

[ What...an interesting way to phrase it. At first, Berserker's confused. He doesn't know how to respond to that, mostly because he doesn't remember exactly what happened. The fact he helped kill someone doesn't bother nor surprise him, though.

The dragon simply shrugs. ]

Is that what happened? It's fine. It's not the first person I've had a hand in killing. [ Nor would it be the last. ] You did nothing wrong.

[ Not to Berserker, anyway. Overall? Yeah, Flat fucked up. But Berserker isn't bothered by being used in that way because it's simply what he's used to. His boundaries have gotten better, some habits simply took longer to break. ]