you'll stay frozen in time ( open )

[niespodzianka]

Who: Geralt & you !
When: this month!
Where: various places!
What: Some open prompts and I'm as always happy to do specific starters/let you write one, just shoot me a pm. He's not going to the masquerade because he sucks. & I'm cool with both prose and action!
Warnings: some violence, others tba as needed.



quest - out of the city (ota!)
[ Getting out of the city's walls feels, unsurprisingly, less claustrophobic. Aefenglom has been nothing short of miraculous with hospitality for mirrorbound, but as the weeks press on, Geralt feels more and more agitated with being there. And not just because of the worsening magic buildup in his system; being a life-long nomad with only brief periods of formal residency dotted throughout the decades means this is a hell of an adjustment.

Useless in many practical domestic things, Geralt makes up for it in being an excellent fighter. When they tell him that magic is potentially dangerous out here, he thinks Thank fuck, even though that's not going to help his unbonded predicament. Oh well. He's happy to get into the thick of it, whether it's against infected creatures creeping up to the edges of the outer settlements, sparring, or training. ]

during the masquerade (limit 1 person please, preference for new cr!)
Parties are the fucking worst, especially formal ones that have dress codes, and Geralt's taken far more drastic measures in the past to get out of them than simply not being available. He's left his watch at the house and avoided all questions that sounded like they were leading to invites, deeply grudging about his avoidance. It eats at him. Sure, he hates them to begin with, but the thought just reminds him of Yennefer, drilling the point of her absence (here, and at home) into him like a splinter he can't dislodge.

He picks a bar he's never been to before, one whose name he hasn't seen bandied about as employing any familiar faces, and minds his own business. And that should be that, a quiet evening away from nagging chatter and free from the headaches that crop up with increasing frequency - until another patron starts in. Aren't you one of them? Shouldn't you be at that fancy party the Coven put up? Too good for even that? You should all be put outside the wall, I wonder how Morgana would treat the mirrorbound--

Geralt has the man's head on the bartop, nose down, crunched up and bloody, before he really realizes what he's doing. He feels calmer than he should, but shutting up jackasses in taverns is pretty routine for a witcher. It's only when he hauls the man back and slams him down again that the horrified scream of someone else nearby really registers, and he steps away. Which is when another patron punches him in the back of the head. Gonna be one of those nights.

sleepless // later in the month (limit 2 people plz)
[ It's always at night when he runs out of shit to do that the pressure gets worse. He's been using magic more often, working on projects that require it when he can, and that's probably relieved some - but overload is still creeping inexorably closer, and he feels it in every atom. Restlessness to the extreme and irritation, he finds himself biting back his shortening temper more times than he can count. For someone with a limited ability to even experience emotion in the first place, it's particularly disorienting.

Cold rain comes down on and off, but Geralt's out walking anyway; there's no hope of escaping to the other side of the wall this late at night, but maybe that's for the best. Sometimes he finds himself in a mood where just leaving and going to find whatever horrible end in the Wilde sounds appealing. It'd certainly be safer than blowing himself to gooey pieces somewhere populated.

Instead he walks aimlessly, avoiding the Coven stronghold (as if some witch will leap out of the shadows and drag him away to be bonded to a stranger, right), only once playing a lackluster superhero and punching a would-be mugger in the face. It's a dull affair. Criminals in a walled city with a plague outside can't be that bright. Where are you gonna fucking go, dude.

He walks along the river until he finds a quieter stretch and hops over the barricade, opting instead to trek muddy, rocky outcroppings beneath bridges, powering up rocks and chucking them into the water, trying not to fucking explode. Not thinking about anything that might crawl out of the darkness. ]

Comments

[niespodzianka]

[ What the fuck.

Geralt had staggered to one side, and maybe he would have dodged successfully had Rogers not course-corrected at the last second, but maybe he wouldn't have. At least he tracked the throw before the disc left his hand and knew to duck, but still. ]

Nice to see you'd instinctively go for the kill on an unknown entity but would have scratched my eyes out to save child traffickers.

[ He hasn't actively held a grudge, and seeing that it was him out here didn't deter Geralt from coming over to check in on him. He's reconsidering that instinct. ]

[captenacious]

It wouldn't have killed you.

[ The reply is almost too mild, but there's a faint hint of humor underneath. Given him a headache maybe, though Steve can't help but wonder at even that.

There's the sound of something moving, though, and even that faint smile slides right back out of his expression. ]

I've been following something big. Did you see anything when you came through?

[niespodzianka]

[ To Geralt, that retort is weak like watery shit; if he knew who was creeping up, he wouldn't have had to abort that throw in the first place. His gold eyes narrow slightly at him, unimpressed. ]

Yeah, I dunno what they're called here, but it looks like a small chort.

[ That's helpful, right? Internal sigh. Nobody's a professional here, it's a drag. ]

Cow, kinda. But worse.

[captenacious]

[ 'Cow but worse' is a hell of a description, and one of Steve's eyebrows lifts thoughtfully. He glances in the direction he last heard movement, something calculating flashing through his expression. ]

Well, whatever it is, it moves fast. Hopefully we haven't scared it off.

[ He'd like to think he would have heard it if it had taken off running, but there's a part of Steve that still hasn't entirely gotten used to the senses he's missing. The eyesight only makes up for so much.

And those strange, birdlike eyes flick back towards Geralt. ]

You looking for something in particular?

[niespodzianka]

Yeah, hopefully, [ sounds dry, because Geralt's sure everything within a five mile radius heard that shield bonk into stuff. He goes quiet, just watching Steve for another moment. ]

Nope.

[ Maybe he should have caved to prejudicial grumpiness and not bothered with the instinct to check in. Geralt turns to head off, not inclined to be very argumentative past the initial kneejerk barb. ]

[captenacious]

[ Steve's eyes follow him as he turns with a look of faint bemusement before they suddenly snap to the side before he's even registered something catching his attention. He sees the slightly out of place movement through some of the greenery before he hears it, but it's just enough time for a split second reaction as he puts it all together to realize that whatever he's been chasing is now heading straight for him. Fast. ]

Geralt!

[ It's snapped off, a warning for the other man to get out of the way, and hopefully soon enough. Because Steve himself is moving on autopilot, shield out in front and all of his weight braced behind it. You don't get out of the way when you're not sure what's on the other side. ]

[niespodzianka]

[ Fortunately, Geralt does this kind of thing for a living and has done for a century - and his senses haven't been removed in this world. He's already switching swords when Steve calls out, opting for the silver one, unsure of the state of infection of not-a-chort. Or whatever it is. He can't find a single adequate bestiary for the world outside city walls; he suspects there's undocumented evolution going on. ]

I think it's after you, [ he observes, picking his way around the trajectory of the animal, inevitably putting it in a position of being pinched between them. Assuming Steve will survive getting crashed into and this won't end up with Geralt scraping up a collection of bones and organs to return to any friends from home he might have. ]

[captenacious]

[ He's been hit by literal trucks before, it's never fun but it does mean Steve knows how to handle it. He still gets the wind knocked out of him when the collision comes, just barely managing to angle the shield so that the charging animal will slide off rather than continuing to barrel straight through him. With an almighty screech against the metal, he manages to push it far enough that he can slip off to the side.

That's the trained part. The slightly more unexpected instinct is to rake his talons against the side of the creature as it passed him. Might not do quite as much damage, but it makes some unknown part of him feel better.

And as the thing finally slows down and then immediately turns towards him again, he flicks a look towards Geralt and offers a slightly breathless ] You think?

[ Maybe it senses the monster in him. Maybe it just doesn't like his cologne. Who knows. But it does mean that Steve has to shake off the first hit and get ready again. ]

I can hold it's attention, then.

[niespodzianka]

[ That's a neat toy. Pretty impressive, as far as shields go (not to mention the practice to not be toppled over behind it). Geralt doesn't use them - witchers tend not to, no matter the school of origin. They're engineered to just take the hit and get back up, no regard for safety of hunter nor target.

Not really a chort. Still looks a bit cow, but worse, though, fuck only knows what it actually is. Moves awfully fast for some kind of bovine, twisted and horrible, throwing its enormous head around like it's a mace on the end of a short, spinal-chord chain.

What might it be attracted to? Interesting. But it's a passive thought, long secondary to moving forward behind the thing. At home, he'd cast Ydren and trap it, but here it's an overloaded projection of a shield spell, slamming into it from above, flattening it to the ground. One of the thing's forelegs snaps under the impact. It screams, deep and horrible, quick to struggle back up, thrashing wildly. ]

[captenacious]

[ Steve can't help but start just a little as the animal is suddenly smashed flat, and his eyes very quickly dart Geralt's way. Right, witch. That's still taking some getting used to.

But he does see the idea behind it, and he has to agree. Ugly as the thought is, this thing is too fast and too aggressive for even both of them to take on head-to-head. They need to stop it, fast.

While it's still struggling to get to it's three working legs, Steve winds up and throws the shield again, arcing it over the creature's head to rebound off a tree and then another, each ricochet taking it slightly lower until it bounces back at just the right height to slam right into the animal's good front leg at the knee from behind. It lets out another one of those hair-raising screams and buckles, and Steve sets his teeth as he goes to collect his shield from where it landed, neatly kicking it back up to his hand.

At least the thing probably isn't going anywhere now. ]

Your sword enough to take it out? [ It's an honest question as he nods towards Geralt's weapon. If not he can try to break the thing's neck, but it's probably not going to be neat. ]

[niespodzianka]

[ All of Geralt's magic seems like a sneak-attack, given he casts it incorrectly, employing hand signals and posture instead of verbal incantations. But it's how he uses limited witcher magic at home and so it's how he uses the magic here. A habit that probably contributes to his struggle with it, but alas. ]

Guess we'll find out. [ He has to hop back to avoid a flailing, muscular leg, and then again as the creature thrashes wildly and gets up onto an unsteady tripod, hurling itself at Geralt, then lightning-quick around for a surge at Steve.

Silver sword sounds flimsier than it actually is. Between the meteorite and magic used to forge it, it's fine. (Stop arguing over the legitimacy of silver swords being practical, reddit nerds, IT'S A UNIVERSE WITH MAGIC.) He stabs at a hindquarter, resulting in an angry shriek and a flail back to him, but Geralt's already zipped away, inhumanly quick. ]

[captenacious]

[ It's certainly doing something, but the animal is apparently just too tough or two angry to stop, still trying to lunge at both of them despite the damage they've already done. Steve can't help letting out a low, irritated growl, rumbling and inhuman as the sound is, as he moves in again to try and draw the thing's attention away from Geralt.

When it tries to heave itself at him again, Steve darts out of the way, but that roiling annoyance in him snaps. He takes a couple more steps back and then launches himself into the air to put all of his weight behind the shield as he brings it down onto the animal's head. Aiming for a stun rather than anything immediately lethal, but the shield has been known to sheer through metal when Steve can put his whole strength behind it. In the absence of that, he's hoping it will at least do something.

And the thing does stagger under the blow as Steve immediately moves out of range again, but it's slower now, clearly a little dazed. ]