middaeg | [Open] I wanted all the things that I haven't got

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[Open] I wanted all the things that I haven't got

Who: Rich Goranski and you!
When: Beginning of the month up until the event
Where: All around the city, including in Desmodus Mori and the refugee area
What: Rich goes about fulfilling some quests while also dealing with some monster changes. Also feat. a dash of punk.
Warnings: Some mention of broken families in the last prompt. Otherwise it should be good!

Anyways, here's Wonderwall

[Rich needed a break.

Honestly, most people probably did. Dorchacht had taken a lot out of the spirits of the people involved in that struggle, and even for the ones at home, Rich heard about what they had to deal with from anti-Bonded protestors.

And of course, there's been the whole issue of the SQUIP's continued efforts to get to everyone Rich ever happened to care about, which is making Rich more than a little worried about the new arrivals, especially Jeremy and Michael. He knows the two of them are smart, but could they hold up against literal magic? A freaking android apparently couldn't.

But worrying can only get Rich so far. And speaking of freaking androids, Connor had definitely given Rich a suggestion that's been kind of ingrained in his head as he starts looking for an outlet for pent up energy.

So after his shifts at the music store, Rich takes his guitar out from the shop, moves to an empty spot by the park, and sets up. He feels a little silly, leaving his guitar case open on the ground, but... hey, this is where most stars start out, right?

So he plays. His voice is fairly shaky at first, confidence not quite embedded into that aspect of his musical interest, but as he starts getting into the music, old classics he listened to freshman year of high school, his enthusiasm picks up, and he bounces around to the beat.

When he finishes, he looks up to whoever might have been observing, giving a sheepish grin.]

Any requests?

[His taste is unique, but he can stop playing anti-establishment 'fight the man' nonsense and pull out a classic love song if he must.]

Well, it's true that they say love bites

[The request had seemed fairly simple at first. Donate blood for some vampires to have a sustainable and consensual source of food and it's done. Rich wasn't squeamish, so donating blood seemed like an easy way to make some cash. Hell, maybe it was like the blood drives at school and he'd get a cookie after.

But when he does get into the bar, he does feel... a bit like he's bitten off more than he can chew. Particularly because he remembers now that this place probably doesn't have modern day needles and IVs. How in the hell does he donate?

Any vampires or regulars who know the drill should probably help the guy, who's now staring at his arms, wondering if tattoos were an issue.]

Carpenters: having daddy issues since Jesus Christ

[Even if Rich needed a break from the stress of last month, he couldn't completely stay out of it, so when he realized the refugees were in need of homes, he didn't blink before signing up. Whenever he has spare time, he's over in the area, helping move building materials and furniture around. He's not an expert in carpentry, but he took wood shop, so he knows how to at least cut planks of wood down to smaller planks.

When he takes a break from heavy lifting, Rich can often be found goofing off with the kids, teaching them games or telling them stories. He might appreciate a teammate to help him wrangle all the kids after a run outside... or he can always be scolded for encouraging the kids' loud laughter and screeching. But would you really ruin the fun of a dozen little kids, plus the biggest kid of them all?]

When you're half dragon but not even the cool Skyrim protagonist kind

[No matter how busy Rich attempts to keep himself, there isn't much he can do to avoid the changes, when they come. They aren't even noticeable physical ones this time... but they're still frustrating.

First comes fatigue. The rain probably makes everyone a little gloomy, but Rich wasn't expecting it to be this overwhelming. It gets to the point where he doesn't even want to crawl out of bed... and when he does, he can often be found an hour later, passed out leaning against a wall or just faceplanted on the ground. If anyone attempts to approach him then, they'll likely end up with a very cold teenager clinging to them until he's warm enough to come to and realize just how embarrassing he's acting.

Then there's a little itch, some urge in the back of his mind that gets worse when he passes art galleries and shops with framed paintings. He doesn't mean to, but he spends ages staring at the pictures, especially those of families... of happy, sweet mothers and brave, protective fathers. Happy scenes, no alcohol or hospital rooms in sight.

Perhaps you see him staring at one of these paintings, looking like he's going to swipe it off the wall at any moment. Or perhaps, if you carry any photos on your person, you may find them missing from your pockets, only to see Rich wandering past, the picture still in his hands as he stares down at it, making a beeline for home so he can add it to his collection.]

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[Rich doesn't think any of his dreams involve kids, but at the moment, he's at least having fun running around with the little tykes. He hasn't seemed to catch on to the fact that, actually, he might enjoy kids and might have some instinct for caring for them.

After his dad, he's pretty sure he'd be continuing some cycle if he actually considered having kids.

The hats surprise him, but he does note that the hats appear dry in this rain. Besides, Geralt surprises him more, showing up after Rich thought he'd been nothing more than a weird annoyance in Dorchacht. He offers a sideways smile.]

Oh, sure! That's good idea. Hey guys!

[The little ones stop and stare at Rich, and then at the rune covered hats... before one decides to shriek and run off, making a beeline for the nearest puddle.]

Ugh, one sec.

[He swipes one of the hats out of Geralt's hands, placing it on his head and then putting on an exaggeratedly happy voice.]

Woooow! Look how cool I look in this awesome hat! And look! This nice man has a whole bunch of them just like mine! Such a shame no one wants to take one... guess I'll be the only one...

[Within an instant, the shrieking stops, and Geralt finds himself surrounded by monster children, reaching up for the hats and rolling up on their tip toes.]

[ Fortunately, Geralt is better with small children than he is teenagers and young adults - usually - and he's perfectly calm and patient during the frenzy. He even pokes holes in one hat for a little puca's prominent ears, and settles it on her head while she squeals happily.

Hole poking moment involves the use of a knife, and of course, this prompts an immediate avalanche of small monsters wanting the knife, and Geralt has to take a moment to carefully explain Knife Safety. Probably hilarious coming from this grizzled warrior. ]

See my face? [ He points to said face, most notably, the long vertical scar running over his eye from forehead to cheek. A chorus of nods greet him. ] I did this fucking around

[ many gasps at the f word ]

with a knife. You're only allowed to play with knives when you're old enough to not care about your face.

[ This is not a true story, but it works as an anecdote for No Kids With Pointy Objects. He chucks another hat on one last kid. ]

Woah, woah, woah, okay! And that's your lesson in knife safety, okay guys? Now go play...

[Rich tries his best to interrupt the anecdotes, though there are a lot of kids hanging around, asking questions and trying to see if he'll drop the F bomb again. Rich waits until most of them have their back turned before giving a half-exasperated, half-impressed look to Geralt.]

Watch the language around 'em, okay? I don't want to get in trouble with their parents for teaching them sh... stuff like that.

[So Rich swears a lot too. He's trying to work on it, okay?]

[ He tells them it's fine to use 'plough' instead. (It's not.) ]

Their parents?

[ A bit of a missed connection, what with so many of the young refugees out here being from the breeding 'orphanages' in Dorchacht. Geralt's investigations (sure, we'll call them that) into the facilities suggests there's no role like that for most of them. ]

Hope so.

[ If they've been taken in, if there are people who will eventually take them in - he's sure that'd be better. War orphans and other spare children ten to be sold into slavery or sacrificed to local gods, where Geralt's from. It's bleak and brutal and he's mystified by but appreciative of the efforts to improve the conditions in poverty-striken areas of the city.

And, honestly, he thinks all mirrorbound should be out here, seeing as they get way more help than these people. ]

You didn't end up chopped for parts after all, looks like.

Well, their caretakers, at least. Whatever. Doesn't matter who's looking out for them really, I just don't want to get in a fight with them over stuff like swears.

[Not when it would probably result in him arguing something even less appropriate and being seen as a problem, again. He knows how discussions with authority figures tend to go for him.

Even if the people here seem relieved enough to just have the help looking after all the little ones until they can be put into proper homes, Rich doesn't want to push his luck there. He wants to make sure he can do something for these kids... the foster system is a bitch back home, and he can only imagine it's worse here. He wants to make sure they actually get to stay with good people when they finally get taken in, and even if he can't ensure that, keeping an eye on them seems like the least he could do.

He rolls his eyes a bit at the comment.]

And it looks like you never learned to trust a guy to watch out for himself. Seriously, I'm used to watching my own back.

[ It's weird how a teenager can be such a downer and so feisty at the same time. Geralt cants his head somewhat at the eyeroll; he still doesn't think so, given the out of control punch this kid let loose, and what his fate might have been had Geralt been someone else. But, sure, he'll accept that. He's glad nothing worse befell him - because not everyone got out unscathed. ]

Alright.

[ That's all he's really got, for that one. He'll stay out here another moment and observe the children playing, watching the distant line that marks the border of the city, and then return to construction. ]

[God, this guy is annoying. He can't just start a conversation and then decide to disappear! He's supposed to... agree that Rich totally can take care of himself, because he's an adult, and life has been unlucky enough anyways that he should be allowed to make it through a few dangerous situations unscathed.

When he sees Geralt turning to get back to work, he can't resist the urge to speak up, though he tries to keep his voice low so as not to attract the attention of the kids.]

Hey, c'mon. Either you agree with me or you tell me what I'm doing wrong. I can't look out for myself better if I don't know what I'm doing that'll make me get in trouble.

[ Hm? Geralt - if he were the type - would be surprised; Rich strikes him as someone happy to have adults fuck off once more or less told to fuck off. And what a rarity - Geralt is someone who actually will fuck off, when invited to do so. Do you know how many people won't?? Amazing. Give him a medal.

Anyway. He looks over his shoulder, gold-eyed gaze noting him before he nods like, alright, if you want to talk, come here. Geralt has to decide what needs to be used to fix a rotten wall, if it indeed can be fixed. Some of the freestanding wooden homes out here are lost causes. ]

I don't know what you're doing that'll make you get in trouble, [ is Geralt's staggering pearl of wisdom, once the kid's joined him. WOW THANKS, GERALT. ] I think you got lucky that I was able to haul your ass out of a problem, when we met. You seem loud. Beyond that, I dunno.

[Sure, Rich does like adults to pretty much fuck off when they aren't being helpful, but Geralt is... frustrating. Rich can tell that he has things he's avoiding saying, and it's tiring for Rich to feel like the guy is keeping apparent knowledge from him. So when he's nodded to, he approaches with a small frown.]

You sure act like you know better than me. I think you're also just pissed I interfered with your own problem. And since when is being loud a bad thing? Sure, maybe when you're trying to sneak around, keep it on the down low, but otherwise, it's no big deal.

Sure, [ he says, of loudness, with zero inflection to suggest positive or negative intent. Mysteriously neutral. Geralt appreciates people who are obvious with their feelings - it makes them easier to understand. But that doesn't mean he always has empathy along with said understanding. ]

Is there anything you want out of me that might make you feel better? When my daughter was your age, all she wanted to do was eat and learn better swordplay.

[ Those things, Geralt could provide. Emotional validation is an alien world, meanwhile. ]

[This guy is just weird. Rich can't get a grip on whether the guy understands him or not, whether he accepts him, whether he thinks of him as an enemy or a friend. It seems like he just says things bluntly, without really noting whether that will be accepted or not.

After so long trying to follow unwritten social norms and torturing himself to be on top of his school's hierarchy, Rich could have almost appreciated that, before the guy asks what Rich wants to make him feel better. He almost laughs out loud with disbelief.]

Since when would you care what would make me feel better? I'm not your daughter. All I wanted to know was why I seem to rub you the wrong way, but... hell, maybe that's not something I should ask.

[Either Geralt doesn't want to say or he will, and Rich will find an actual reason to be mildly pissed off.]

Why do you think I rub you the wrong way?

[ It's difficult to tell, because Geralt is a weirdo mutant with a face that could be carved out of rough stone, but that is a genuine question. He's not a complete idiot, he's aware his own behavior is non-standard for everyone and everywhere, but you know. Let's call it for science. If Geralt knows specifically, maybe he'll be able to provide a productive answer.

Or not. It's raining harder, and he tips his head to one side, brushing a stray lock of white hair out of his eyes. ]

I said I rub you the wrong way. But I mean, I guess it's kind of mutual.

There are a couple reasons I can't exactly get into, but I can tell you I don't exactly like being looked down on. I'm not just a kid. And I really get tired of people thinking they know better than me and using that as an excuse to be an ass.

[Geralt... well, he's not as bad as some of the people Rich has had the displeasure of interacting with, but he still hits certain triggers just by his nature, it seems.

The kids scream louder, starting to head for cover, and Rich has to follow them then. He expects Geralt will have to as well, with how hard it's raining.]

Edited 2019-10-27 23:40 (UTC)

[ Geralt does follow, moving with animal smoothness over the muddy ground, and scooping up one stunned child, who stops with his feet in water up to his ankles, mystified. Growing up in basements being groomed for slavery doesn't offer much in the way of outside experiences, it seems.

'Cover' isn't much, but the work stations have skins tacked to poles stretched out over enchanted tables, dry enough to betting on with. At the very least, they're out of the deafening downpour. ]

I don't look down on you, [ he says on a delay, after depositing his passenger and scooting him off with the other kids. ] This is just how I sound.

[ ... not a great excuse, but he's not sure what else to say. Geralt isn't bothered by him. Puzzled a bit, but that's not a negative thing, really. ]

[Rich takes a moment, once they're all away from the rain, to take a head count of all the children. At least he's good enough with them to keep them still as he makes sure they're all safe and out of the cold, and then he sends one of the older children to go find towels for those who might need a little extra help drying. Then, finally, he has time to answer Geralt.]

So you just have resting 'disappointed dad' face. Good to know.

[There's a gross taste in his mouth, just loosely referring to someone in his vicinity that. But he didn't mean his dad, so it's fine. No sense getting worked up, or he'll only 'puzzle' Geralt more.]

That's between your and whatever your eyeballs are telling you, [ he says, sounding a little drier than usual. Geralt is disappointed in a lot of people, but has never once been disappointed in his daughter, so. Who knows.

(Lambert would probably agree with the assessment, but Lambert is an angry baby who resents being a witcher, as well as their mentor, and thinks Geralt is a butthead. Perhaps he's right.) ]

I hunt and kill dangerous things for a living, at home. Guess I'm not suited for everyday conversations.

I mean, you don't have to actually be disappointed to give off the vibe, dude. I was just saying you constantly look like I got a bad mark on a math test.

[He couldn't say whether Geralt is correct or Lambert is, but he certainly gives off a bit of a butthead energy. All Rich can tell is that he still feels like he's being judged, even in this simple conversation.]

Can't say that's something I do. I'm still in high school, so I'm not a head hunter.

[Not that he hasn't been put in his fair share of danger.]

What kind of things are you hunting?

What's 'high school'? [ The cadence of his question is strange; pronouncing high school like he thinks it sounds like a school somewhere significantly above sea level. Sokie's explanation of institutionalized schooling to him in 'modern' worlds was very brief.

But, aha. ]

Things that kill humans.

[ Deliberately vague, and his pause may be telling. Rich seems like someone who might be bothered by the pejorative use of The M Word, and Geralt is cognizant enough to know better than to phrase it that way in front of children, anyhow. ]

Uh, it's where you go for education when you're a teenager. I mean, you go from elementary school, to middle school, to high school. Does... that make any sense?

[High school is such a basic concept to him that he has no idea how to even explain it. He sure wishes it was more exciting though.

He frowns at the explanation for a moment, before he seems to realize what Geralt probably means, and he gives a grim nod of understanding.]

Right. Some people just had fancy names for what they were fighting, that's all. Thought maybe you'd be the same. My world was... it didn't have any of that stuff. Don't know if it's 'normal' anymore, though.

No.

[ Geralt just stares at him. He comes from a place where only privileged children, the offspring of royalty or the wealthy classes, receive tutoring as children - structured schooling for children and teens appear as mage schools or religious agonizing. Universities are their own affair. ]

Are you from a world like this? Advanced technology?

[ lol ]

...Oh boy. This is advanced technology to you? This is like, dark ages in my world. Or well, not quite that bad, but still. At least we have working electricity and heaters and stuff like that.

[Judging from Geralt's blank expression, he's going to guess the guy has to come from a more medieval situation, which probably means no education at all for someone like him.]

It's like... okay, the really rich kids in your world probably have tutors, right? Well, imagine there's like a whole building full of tutors, but all those tutors teach like... 20 to 30 kids all at once, five times a week.

We have magic. [ And monsters, as he's already ... not-mentioned. The rest of that, though, just puzzles him further. He knows what school is, he just doesn't know what 'high school' is, and doesn't know enough about institutionalized, legally required education to make the leap to whatever it is Rich is explaining.

So he ends up just saying ] Sure, [ which probably sounds patronizing when it's actually just him being confused. ]

I was raised by wolves, technically.

[Oh, so... probably some weird fantasy world. Rich should have known, and thus should have known trying to explain probably wouldn't have gone well. He could try again, but he just sighs and lets it go.

The mention of Geralt's upbringing shocks him enough to distract him anyways.]

Wait. Like. Actually raised by wolves? You're not bullshitting me?

Witchers of the School of the Wolf, at Kaer Morhen in the remote mountains of Kaedwen. Far enough away from any human or elven settlement to be effectively imaginary.

[ Yes, he's bullshitting him. But they are indeed called wolves by witchers from other schools; the medallion on his chest, a silver wolf-head, is a symbol of it. (And at home it might have spoooooky flickering red eyes, but it's nerfed into some cute jewelry, here.)

Deadpan, ] I've been told my manners make it seem literal.

...Yeah, I really did think you were serious until you said. You need to work on your joke delivery, dude.

[Whatever in there isn't a joke sounds intriguing, though, and might explain why Rich couldn't explain normal schooling to him.]

So what did you exactly "learn" there? Hunting techniques?

[Open] I wanted all the things that I haven't got

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