middaeg | [Open] The Catch-all log, Alucard edition

[ No one has a sense of humor in this city, it's a rough life. What's a guy gonna do if no one else thinks getting devoured by the family pet is funny? Oh, well. ]

'Time to find a vocation'?

[ Crunch, crunch. Hard to move silently when the undergrowth is this dead and brittle, though Geralt makes a valiant, inhuman effort. ]

How old are you?

[ Because Geralt's pegged him as .. pretty old, with his seriousness and his vaguely elven stature. Mixed, he figures, though with what is anyone's guess. ]

Twenty.

[He adds no note about aging quickly, not based on the last time and Sypha's rudeness. But he's honest enough about the response, and well aware that he carries himself as someone older.

Or at least someone more mature than his current age.]

I grew up guarded away from most of the world.

[ The f u c k. (Probably a good thing he doesn't mention his aging. Geralt would probably return him to the city and try to find a parent stand-in.)

Anyway. The look the witcher gives him passes quickly, more concerned with paying attention to their surroundings. ]

Oh?

[ So did Geralt, but he can guess that it wasn't for the same purpose. Find a vocation. His isolated upbringing was for the singular purpose of crafting a monster hunter. ]

[It wouldn't work anyway.

Alucard's able to keep walking, even as the subject matter turns to the least favorite part of well, all of his circumstances at the moment. His voice is neutral, but clearly that is due to effort.]

My father was what this place would identify as a Monster - a vampire - but such a term carries no positive association in Wallachia. [Just kinda glancing over why for now.] My mother was perfectly human. To say that there were concerns about my safety would be a small understatement.

[ Geralt's first instinct is to ask why bother having a child if you have to raise it like that, but even his shaky grasp on manners prevents him from uttering it aloud. That instinct is born from his own life, anyway; wondering why his mother would go through the hassle of bringing him to term. ]

Does being part vampire make you more vulnerable?

[ He seems to be doing alright out here. ]

At this point, being human makes me more vulnerable.

[Alucard wants to just be a wolf and run through the woods. And that mental image at least puts a pained smile on his face.]

For example, the work we're doing now? If I was home, I could transform into a wolf and simply talk to these creatures in their own ways.

So why were you hidden away? You make a habit of eating people, or something?

[ Geralt feels like he's missing something. Beings with less available power than Alucard roam around within society, or in the fringes of it, just fine. Hell, half of Geralt's werewolf encounters at home have been with pacifists cursed by shitty humans, living their lives quietly and harming no one, just trying to hide what happens at night.

Being half vampire, having that kind of shapeshifting ability - doesn't sound like there's anything to be worried about, unless he makes himself a menace. ]

Concerns for my safety. [There's a thin, pained smile at that.] My father had little trust of humanity, even as he loved my mother and myself. A small village, that was fine. But beyond that...

[He trusts Geralt to fill in the rest. He's a smart man after all.]

I was bookish and kept to myself anyway. It worked well enough.

[ Geralt is torn between calling bullshit on the logic of someone so powerful needing that concern, and understanding that humans are an unchecked menace composed entirely of hate and panic. A human, or even ten humans, are no match for a witcher on his guard, and yet Geralt was still killed by a mob of them. One of the most powerful sorceresses on the Continent was torn apart.

Shit happens. Maybe that, he can understand. After a while he offers, ] I guess if I ever thought that kind of protection was an option, I might have preferred it for my daughter. I can understand the instinct. The world is inescapable, though.

It is. The three of us learned that in the worst possible way.

[Alucard pauses after the words leave his mouth. It's the first time he's remarked upon everything since it happened, and to a stranger. That feels like an accomplishment of sorts. Some kind of step in dealing with the grief.]

The word witch is a death sentence there.

Sorry to hear that.

[ He's been saying that a lot lately, to various people. And he is, generally; it'd be nice if there was at least one world out there that could get everything right. But that's a fairy tale. The world is inescapable. You learn the hard way or a harder way, and that's just how shit is. ]

Mm.

[ It has been, at different times in Geralt's world. Different places; it certainly has been in Redania, in recent years. He's not thinking too hard on it, though, sensing something out there creeping closer - and not a petalwolf. Something shifting through the earth. ]

Tree, [ he murmurs. ] Wilder called them 'ents'. Corrupted.

[Alucard doesn't say much more. He's already made a big step, and maybe it's better that Geralt is...well, he practically doesn't react. For better or worse. At least Alucard can speak and know that there won't be overwrought reactions, and that's something, he supposes.

But then--

--he doesn't look back to the man. Just ahead.]

How close to us?

[ Geralt isn't deliberately cruel or dismissive, but he's also not inclined to make an effort to seem otherwise. It just doesn't occur to him, most of the time.

Things to consider some other time. ]

Half a mile. [ Geralt tilts his head, listening, watching the ripples the sound makes, experiencing it like a dot in the distance, wriggling away. ] It knows we're here. Not sure what nearby it's connected to.

[ Plants. Doesn't matter what its roots are linked with, but they should keep moving, and away from the ent. ]

Worth trying to destroy, or smarter to avoid?

[Alucard's question is barely a whisper. Moreover, it's thrumming with tension, the desire to do something if it's safe enough to do so.]

I can only bow to experience right now.

Avoid. The shade creatures out here are infected. You don't want to get tagged.

[ Cwyld exposure is not automatic Cwyld infection, and just the infection isn't a death sentence - plenty of people in the walls are infected to some degree, and managing, working towards remission research - but there best prevention is no contact. ]

Let's watch what the wolves do first.

Mmmm.

[Alucard can do that. He's careful to step aside, because he can hear something moving in the brushes. Going statue-still, an older petalwolf pokes it's head out, taking a moment to sniff the air. And then, it retreats into the thicker forest again, movement heading away from the ents.

Keen gold eyes settle on Geralt, asking if they ought to follow.]

[ Geralt considers. The wolves have accepted their presence, though if they begin to move after them, they might not appreciate it; the last thing he wants is for them to end up pinched between well-meaning idiots and an infected creature.

So instead he leads them in the opposite direction, giving the petalwolves a wide berth, angling to keep the ent in the 'middle'. He's just about silent when he moves, and knows by now Alucard will be the same, but he hasn't quite figured out just how the plague-ridden beings track. It always seems random. Drawn to life through some mechanic he can't puzzle out.

Half his attention on the creature, half on the wolves, he observes as the wolves move lightly over the earth, their plant-like bodies barely disrupting the terrain. ]

[Alucard understands Geralt's choice of path only a few moments in. The wolves can go one way. They go the other. The ent moves between them all, and hopefully the presence of so much life will confuse it.

Or it'll go for them both instead of the wolves. They're better armed, after all.

His own movements are light, although not as feather-light as they would be at home. Nor as fast, because he's still without the natural abilities inherited from his father. Still, Alucard moves without a sound, always to the slight right of Geralt. Always within seeing distance, so if something happens, the other man knows it immediately.

Even as they're running though, Alucard finds himself caught up in the wolves and their movements. How they glide over the terrain, almost flying. They're beautiful creatures. It makes the place seem slightly less awful.]

[ It's nearly nice. Without the violet-hued gloom encompassing the planet, it might be picturesque; the petalwolves might not be thriving, but they're existing despite all odds, and they need to be given room to grow and carve a home into this hostile realm.

Snap. A trap springs. Shriek. A wolf caught. Thud. The end shifts its movement in a split-second, zooming with a low roar of disturbed earth towards the pack. ]

Ah, fuck.

[ Geralt skids to a halt and looses his silver blade from his back, then darts off towards the ent. This isn't natural selection, that's cheating. ]

[Fuck indeed.

Alucard has his own sword, and it goes from hanging at his side to being in his hand just as quickly. He's flying blind now, engaging in a fight without knowing how dulled his senses truly are in battle, but it's worth it.

So he stays right behind Geralt, aware that whatever they're about to do, they need to move quickly.]

Ever fought them before?

Yeah. Roots are the big problem. Fast, long range. They're frozen-over but pretty resistant to fire.

[ So it's hack-and-slash. (And dodge. Don't forget to dodge. Nobody wants to get infected.)

Geralt flings a spell, a warped shield, making a loud impact in the ground. The bulk of the tree shifts, turning towards the sound, roots slithering around. Huge things, spear-like tips, diving in and out of the soil like water. ]

Understood. Do you want to focus on the wolf or the ent?

[Alucard watches how the tree shifts, but his eyes? They're on the roots. Accounting for the length, memorizing the movement. They're what need to be destablized, and he thinks there's a path or two forward in that mission.]

I don't have my typical speed anymore, but I still move faster than the average man.

You can see to the wolf.

[ Geralt is less attune with the animals, and has more confidence in being able to fell the ent. He's taken several in the past - though he does make a note to pace himself, because the ones they'd been pitted against in Wilder training had, presumably, been tracked and monitored. This one is a rogue agent, and may well be worse.

The witcher stops abruptly and sinks his sword into the ground. Something thrashes violently, a strange, dull scream rumbling through the air. The ent's focus is definitely over this way, now. ]

[No more words, only action.

Alucard can tell where the wolf is, even without his superhuman hearing. The thing is panicking, and that means it is loud. Loud and directly behind where Geralt has sunk his sword into the ground, making the placement of the weapon a greater boon than expected.

Getting from point A to B is made harder by the ent itself, because as Alucard moves, great branches from below ground rise, trying their best to grab at him as well. It suggests that the thing can hunt by it's own form of echolocation or other vibration detection, and so Alucard does his damndest to walk lightly.

He gets whalloped back a few times, and others he leaps up onto the thing's roots, using them as moving pathways to get where he must be.

The petal wolf hasn't been snared as Alucard anticipated. No, a large cage of roots has grown around it, making it clear that the ent is a too clever thing. But there's an advantage in the terror, and that is the cage is made of only two roots.

He pinpoints one. In that moment, Alucard drives his sword cleanly through. Disrupting one might do the same to the other, allowing for the wolf to flee.]

[ Well, alright, maybe its focus isn't over this way after all. Much older and larger than the ones Geralt has seen before, the main body of the ent itself is further back than the witcher initially noted; sending out a gnarled mass of upright roots to fool hunters, the primary tree is some yards away, ropelike tentacles spread out like a spider's web beneath the ground. Decaying matter flakes off each root, chilling the air every time they leap up. The wolf in its trap is no doubt doomed to infection.

Geralt severs the roots nearest him and loudly moves to the puppet body of the ent, blasting it with a concussive spell that sends its fibrous matter flying and causing the large knot of roots to withdraw in an apparent panic. ]

Come on, [ he mutters, following the trail, his senses outstretched. ] Don't be such a pain in the fucking ass.

[ The roots map back to the real ent, which he treks towards, sword ready. Roots fly from the ground at him, their ends pointed like spears, and Geralt darts this way and that, dodging them and slicing bits off. Most cringe and withdraw when hit, but some plow on, chasing him. It's a lot like a very shitty leshen, which is at least familiar. He lets himself slip into a work mindset, and everything becomes easy. ]

[Open] The Catch-all log, Alucard edition

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)