[ Might end up helping him in the end. Maybe he could find a way to save his soul in the end. Does that kind of hell even exist in this place? Doesn't matter, the First of the Fallen would collect his due no matter what worlds stood in his way. ]
Don't know if that's something to be glad of either. I've got enough troubles of my own without people banging on at my door.
[ He says it but he doesn't mean it. He likes being able to help no matter how he whinges on. ]
I saw some things, yes. Didn't figure it was good form to bring it up is all.
Glad or regret, it's too late now. What's done is done. It was before my time or awareness. I don't even know if there was anything that anyone could do. The choice of man.
[And that is not at all said with any respect or reverence.]
Your services in exchange for coin.
[To her understanding. That is what a witcher does with or without the cat eyes, though John doesn't have swords either. Just magic.]
...that was not my intention. Nor was it want of mine to share.
None of us can escape our fates. All we can do is muddle through the rest of this muck. Do the best we can. Hoping for a gentler world is for those who don't know anything about it.
[ Least that's the world John knows. The one he's always known. ]
Once in a while, yeah. Man's got to eat.
[ Magic and his own wits. That's what he's got. He clears his throat. ]
Didn't figure it was. It was a long time ago at any rate.
[ It doesn't make it any easier to bear. That's for what you did to your mum, killer. ]
[Ah yes, cynicism is reliable and fits on her as well as her clothes. She shifts to curl up, still seated.]
Yes. Time dulls the pain. It also sculpts who we are. I don't enjoy that truth.
[She was hardly even twenty and wanted to be beautiful, powerful and adored. Of course there was no telling of how she would feel close to seventy years after the fact.]
[ There's a bite in the air but it's no worse than cold winters back home. Then again, it's been an age since he spent a winter back there. He wonders, briefly, if his nan is still well. ]
I don't think anybody does, pet. Why I don't bother with mirrors most days.
[ He can't stand himself on his best day. He's not going to stare himself in the mirror every morning. At least not until he's had a drink first. ]
[Her tone is almost pitying. But is it to John or herself? Or that delicate shred of hope inside of her that somehow endures.]
...you said you did not get any physical enchantments.
[It's an idle, distracting tease. Though she knows just what he means. The reflection of what you were not able to do, of who you let down or who you hurt.]
Your people, your kin, are they like you?
[A roundabout way to prod at Geralt's assessment.]
Those are what need the most protecting. No price is too high to protect the innocent.
[ There's a lot of room for morally grey and questionable in his life. That is one thing he is firm about. One thing he will not waver on. ]
Hah. [ He huffs in amusement at the tease, ducking his head down as he reaches to fiddle with a bit of bark fallen near to him. ] That I did.
My family? No. Well, only magic my old man ever did was making a pint disappear. Sister---well, she ran off cause she couldn't stomach our dad treating me like he did. Never knew my mum.
[The innocent, well, yes. That is without question. Fragile things like hope and faith. They are not what she would typically put much stock into. Principle, anger and duty have a large sway. She pretends as though there are no soft edges to her spirit and motivations.
She doesn't say more on the matter, only sighs and her eyes move to the fire. Her ears are open listening to him.]
Do you know if your skills were something you were born with? Perhaps an elder above them?
[This is a lot to ask in the name of curiosity. John's words make her brow furrow.]
My--father, my true father was half elf. He was slain. I never knew him. There's a natural propensity for magics in fae so they say.
[ There are fragile things in his life he has failed to protect. Partly due to his inexperience, mostly his own arrogance is to blame though. Faith? He doesn't have that. Least not in any traditional sense. ]
I've---always been able to see things others couldn't. Took to magic like a duck to water. [ He looks over with something of a helpless shrug. ] Nothing so far as I know. My mum died giving birth to me.
[ If it came from anywhere, it might've been her family. He wouldn't know. ]
Sorry to hear. Never easy growing up with the idea of someone. You're the first elf I've met. Well, part elf. Still. It's just stories where I'm from.
Did you have a conduit moment? A sudden appearance of magic?
[It's what would happen with mages. A duck needs to be exposed to water so that it could swim.
A dead mother for him, a dead...everyone for her now. That is the way of things in all reality? No family, no happiness to be had?]
True elves would never think me as one of their own. I'm only a quarter. It's enough for humans to believe I'm inhuman, as though the sorcery isn't enough.
[Yennefer shrugs.]
They are very real. And very angry. My father was killed in The Great Cleansing. That was supposed to be the end, man killing off as much elder blood as possible, the survivors living in exile or fear. Perhaps that is why they are only stories for you.
Nothing I can remember if I did. I've always seen things. Creatures. Spirits.
[ He's got more ghosts than just his mum. Just none he cares to admit to her at that moment. ]
Well, they all sound like a bunch of sorry bastards if you ask me.
[ He looks down, absently flicking at some dirt on his hand. ]
Could be. Lots of old things like that are just stories now. Fairy stories told to scare little kids and the like. Keep the bulk of humanity hiding near the firelight and out of the darkness.
[How is that even right? Her brow furrows, trying to process what this could mean. And how can he possibly have Witcher traits without the Trials? There are so many tangled threads of thought.]
I don't hide. And I believe that many a dark creature looks in fear of humans. They are a monster too, hmm?
[Silly concept when they are literally huddled around a campfire. She could leave in the night and search for answers on her own. Geralt would hate that. She had promised to not dash away before morning. They were going to stay the whole cycle of the moon together. It's all gone so much differently than planned.]
[Just trying to get the story straight. John is a smart man, he likely can pluck out when a person is trying to scrutinize him whether or not Yennefer is trying to be cunning.]
Yet we try and do better by them and live among them.
[We, though deep in her heart she means Geralt who ever pretends to be indifferent and is constantly wounded. He sleeps deeply. Supposedly that is because he is near her. Yennefer doesn't believe that for the case of this night. It's the potions and the fight.]
And how are they? Balancing a personal life and the duties befitting magic users?
[ He knows when he's being sized up for sure. He's a con man, but he doesn't think she's keen on working him like a mark. No, she wants him out of her hair is all. ]
Think it's best for me if I don't. Only bad ever comes from me being around too long.
[ He has a ruinous touch to all he comes across. ]
Depends on the magic user. I've seen those that make a good life of it. Keep to the light and the straight and narrow. Not really my lot in all this.
Dare I inquire what it is you occupy yourself with when it is not magical doings?
[if only to get an idea of what pursuits would be worth it. Her whole life has been sculpted by chaos and what she can do with it. Though it has not been able to make her a mother.
As to keeping separate, she says nothing more. Safety is the aim. Though there can be no true safety in strife.]
[She's agreeing that it is lunacy to tether yourself to an erratic, changeable force. John's magic, it's an entity, natural. Still chaotic from what she's observed. Anyone with a sense of self preservation would stay back. While he is prickly as a hedgehog, there is a cork for every bottle.
Her own short comings have not yet driven back the Witcher.]
I will do what I can to return you. [And for the first time she sets her jaw and looks at John.] I'm sorry this has happened.
The worst kind, I'd say. Anybody saying differently is selling something.
[ John never figured himself for needing anything to cork the proverbial bottle. He supposes Matt fits that bill. He looks out for him in a way that very few others have. He's stuck by him through literally hellish things.
He loves him all the same. ]
Don't fret about it, love. An old saying said absence makes the heart grow fonder. He'll survive a little while without me, probably be glad for you taking me off his hands a bit.
[Grand. He is mad. She is mad. They're all mad. Though it is clear that he does not do himself any favors staying in a strange land. Knowing John a day his kind of anti-compromise will only prove to be more and more dangerous being a foreigner. Yennefer can subvert, she can feign passing through their society. She does it for herself, not just love.]
I try and make it a point not to break other people's play things.
[She cuddles closer to the Witcher, curling under the sheepskin.]
We are safe here. No need to keep watch.
[Yen sighs and puts up three fingers to make a flicking motion. The fire mutes down to hardly a glow.]
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Don't know if that's something to be glad of either. I've got enough troubles of my own without people banging on at my door.
[ He says it but he doesn't mean it. He likes being able to help no matter how he whinges on. ]
I saw some things, yes. Didn't figure it was good form to bring it up is all.
[ Like the parts she saw of him. ]
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[And that is not at all said with any respect or reverence.]
Your services in exchange for coin.
[To her understanding. That is what a witcher does with or without the cat eyes, though John doesn't have swords either. Just magic.]
...that was not my intention. Nor was it want of mine to share.
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[ Least that's the world John knows. The one he's always known. ]
Once in a while, yeah. Man's got to eat.
[ Magic and his own wits. That's what he's got. He clears his throat. ]
Didn't figure it was. It was a long time ago at any rate.
[ It doesn't make it any easier to bear. That's for what you did to your mum, killer. ]
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[Ah yes, cynicism is reliable and fits on her as well as her clothes. She shifts to curl up, still seated.]
Yes. Time dulls the pain. It also sculpts who we are. I don't enjoy that truth.
[She was hardly even twenty and wanted to be beautiful, powerful and adored. Of course there was no telling of how she would feel close to seventy years after the fact.]
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[ There's a bite in the air but it's no worse than cold winters back home. Then again, it's been an age since he spent a winter back there. He wonders, briefly, if his nan is still well. ]
I don't think anybody does, pet. Why I don't bother with mirrors most days.
[ He can't stand himself on his best day. He's not going to stare himself in the mirror every morning. At least not until he's had a drink first. ]
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[Her tone is almost pitying. But is it to John or herself? Or that delicate shred of hope inside of her that somehow endures.]
...you said you did not get any physical enchantments.
[It's an idle, distracting tease. Though she knows just what he means. The reflection of what you were not able to do, of who you let down or who you hurt.]
Your people, your kin, are they like you?
[A roundabout way to prod at Geralt's assessment.]
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[ There's a lot of room for morally grey and questionable in his life. That is one thing he is firm about. One thing he will not waver on. ]
Hah. [ He huffs in amusement at the tease, ducking his head down as he reaches to fiddle with a bit of bark fallen near to him. ] That I did.
My family? No. Well, only magic my old man ever did was making a pint disappear. Sister---well, she ran off cause she couldn't stomach our dad treating me like he did. Never knew my mum.
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She doesn't say more on the matter, only sighs and her eyes move to the fire. Her ears are open listening to him.]
Do you know if your skills were something you were born with? Perhaps an elder above them?
[This is a lot to ask in the name of curiosity. John's words make her brow furrow.]
My--father, my true father was half elf. He was slain. I never knew him. There's a natural propensity for magics in fae so they say.
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I've---always been able to see things others couldn't. Took to magic like a duck to water. [ He looks over with something of a helpless shrug. ] Nothing so far as I know. My mum died giving birth to me.
[ If it came from anywhere, it might've been her family. He wouldn't know. ]
Sorry to hear. Never easy growing up with the idea of someone. You're the first elf I've met. Well, part elf. Still. It's just stories where I'm from.
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[It's what would happen with mages. A duck needs to be exposed to water so that it could swim.
A dead mother for him, a dead...everyone for her now. That is the way of things in all reality? No family, no happiness to be had?]
True elves would never think me as one of their own. I'm only a quarter. It's enough for humans to believe I'm inhuman, as though the sorcery isn't enough.
[Yennefer shrugs.]
They are very real. And very angry. My father was killed in The Great Cleansing. That was supposed to be the end, man killing off as much elder blood as possible, the survivors living in exile or fear. Perhaps that is why they are only stories for you.
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[ He's got more ghosts than just his mum. Just none he cares to admit to her at that moment. ]
Well, they all sound like a bunch of sorry bastards if you ask me.
[ He looks down, absently flicking at some dirt on his hand. ]
Could be. Lots of old things like that are just stories now. Fairy stories told to scare little kids and the like. Keep the bulk of humanity hiding near the firelight and out of the darkness.
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[How is that even right? Her brow furrows, trying to process what this could mean. And how can he possibly have Witcher traits without the Trials? There are so many tangled threads of thought.]
I don't hide. And I believe that many a dark creature looks in fear of humans. They are a monster too, hmm?
[Silly concept when they are literally huddled around a campfire. She could leave in the night and search for answers on her own. Geralt would hate that. She had promised to not dash away before morning. They were going to stay the whole cycle of the moon together. It's all gone so much differently than planned.]
Do you know of sorceresses in your realm?
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[ A bit of a shrug. He's never really considered it all that much. ]
Humans are the worst of them all if you ask me.
[ He shifts a little closer to the fire as the chill of the night threatens to creep in. ]
I've known a few. None of them keen on me.
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[Just trying to get the story straight. John is a smart man, he likely can pluck out when a person is trying to scrutinize him whether or not Yennefer is trying to be cunning.]
Yet we try and do better by them and live among them.
[We, though deep in her heart she means Geralt who ever pretends to be indifferent and is constantly wounded. He sleeps deeply. Supposedly that is because he is near her. Yennefer doesn't believe that for the case of this night. It's the potions and the fight.]
And how are they? Balancing a personal life and the duties befitting magic users?
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[ He knows when he's being sized up for sure. He's a con man, but he doesn't think she's keen on working him like a mark. No, she wants him out of her hair is all. ]
Think it's best for me if I don't. Only bad ever comes from me being around too long.
[ He has a ruinous touch to all he comes across. ]
Depends on the magic user. I've seen those that make a good life of it. Keep to the light and the straight and narrow. Not really my lot in all this.
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[if only to get an idea of what pursuits would be worth it. Her whole life has been sculpted by chaos and what she can do with it. Though it has not been able to make her a mother.
As to keeping separate, she says nothing more. Safety is the aim. Though there can be no true safety in strife.]
Is that so? Are you so powerful or so wicked?
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[ Despite how he tries to push him away. John doesn't want to see Matt hurt. The thought terrifies him. ]
Maybe a little of both.
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[She's agreeing that it is lunacy to tether yourself to an erratic, changeable force. John's magic, it's an entity, natural. Still chaotic from what she's observed. Anyone with a sense of self preservation would stay back. While he is prickly as a hedgehog, there is a cork for every bottle.
Her own short comings have not yet driven back the Witcher.]
I will do what I can to return you. [And for the first time she sets her jaw and looks at John.] I'm sorry this has happened.
[Hours later.]
wrap this one?
[ John never figured himself for needing anything to cork the proverbial bottle. He supposes Matt fits that bill. He looks out for him in a way that very few others have. He's stuck by him through literally hellish things.
He loves him all the same. ]
Don't fret about it, love. An old saying said absence makes the heart grow fonder. He'll survive a little while without me, probably be glad for you taking me off his hands a bit.
sounds good <3
I try and make it a point not to break other people's play things.
[She cuddles closer to the Witcher, curling under the sheepskin.]
We are safe here. No need to keep watch.
[Yen sighs and puts up three fingers to make a flicking motion. The fire mutes down to hardly a glow.]