the freedom

adrian völl. iskaran smith. witch.

[queer-stilinski]

love scrolling IG at work and seeing this man on a fresh new pod | source

[jamieprice]

Jamie grimaces at the witches response and he has a fair point, it's not like they'd had proper beds at Nornwatch. He was probably more comfortable in his hole in the ground than Adrian had been on the floor of the keep. That'd just been one place, they'd camped more than they they'd had a roof over their heads. And yet he's worried about sleeping arrangements in an actual home. So he just rips open the wound. Thou only lived once or whatever the people of Eterna were saying lately. "Ye know, coffins can be built fer tae. Pretty common, actually." He keeps it light, lest he lose his nerve or worse make himself look like the blushing mortal. Striding into the room, hands behind his back, Jamie stops just short of the witch.

[adrianvoll]

“You want me to sleep in a coffin with you?” The question is deadpanned pretty harshly before the witch's lips are twitching into the smallest and most sincere smile likely ever witnessed on Adrian. The expression is devastatingly soft for the reference of coffins being built for two feels almost completely absurd. 

Jamie had stopped just before Adrian, hands behind his back as though it's the last standing barrier between them. It wasn't often that Adrian jumped forth on his own wanton, he liked to simmer and level with Jamie's own, but there's this - almost nauseating - sweetness between them, an earnest shared, which allows the witch to dip forward and kiss Jamie deeply.

[freydis-freydat]

Freydis knew the others had forged bonds and new pathways of their own while she had studied under Vaelin. Each had been so busy in their tutelage that they had seen each other much more sparsely, and then time and the Kossith came between Freydis and many opportunities to truly learn more about Adrian’s own journey. “There was a spirit within my original shield–a soul,” she confided within Adrian. “I don’t know what happened to him after the Kossith destroyed everything. I don’t know if he’s just gone, or returned to the Wheel.” Would Adrian know more, would he have garnered such knowledge? She felt terrible for burdening him with such questions, but she could not stop herself from asking them. She tried to soothe herself as he explained more and offered him a thin smile. “Will you tell me more about how you forged your bond with the spirit and the weapon?” she asked. Freydis was eager to learn what the process would entail, but she wished to learn more about Adrian as well.

[adrianvoll]

Adrian paused, eyes slowly canting up to Freydis as she explained; he felt little surprise at the notion that there was a spirit nestled within the shield she had once held so close, but rather at her question. “Understanding isn't something that can be instilled just by speaking the knowledge allowed, it must be earned through efforts,” its loosely paraphrased from his time working with Vulfric during the Road, for what the smith had said related more to it being earned through each strike of the hammer on metal; the perseverance and determination it took to create something. Still, Adrian enjoyed Freydis' company and was invested in learning more about this spirit she was once…. along side? Could one wield something without understanding what it had taken to thus bond to it? “What type of spirit was within your shield? I spoke of what the weapon I forged was worth, what emotion it spoke to within me and such spirit came to life, imbued within the hammer.”

[vuldak-juneau]

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a customer,” Juneau rattled back as if fighting with a sibling. That was what Adrian had most come to feel like to her–an older brother who always saw her through whatever the world threw at them. How different her life would have been if the wiley little Vuldak had found someone to fill that role at a younger age, but there was no sense crying over it now. The past could not be rewritten, and though there were many wounds on her soul that still required healing, she considered herself lucky to have a soul at all. 

Juneau merely laced her fingers together and propped them under her chin striking a falsely demure pose in response to his equally false praise. She was far from charming and further still from positive. But she had lost a bit of sharpness and grit in the last year, despite her best attempts to prove herself to be wholly and completely unlovable. 

“If they were smart, they would know distance is the thing that gets the job done best,” she stated. She’d always been something of a ranged fighter, too small to go up against much of anything toe to toe unless she was in her Vuldak form–and that had been a huge risk in and of itself until recently. But range in a fight was not the distance she was speaking of, and the world had less and less safe corners to hide in by the day. “When was the last time the Queen was forthcoming with anything that benefited anyone but herself?” Juneau groused, craning her neck as they passed Alrik’s work station to glimpse whether or not he was in at the time, but her attention quickly refocused on Adrian’s back. “The two of you should refuse to help her if she comes knocking–let her see how it feels.”

[adrianvoll]

There's an exasperated sigh, albeit a small one, which leaves Adrian, raising a brow at Juneau as though he should have expected this behavior from her. Her soul had tangibly changed, she was not the same abyssal-tethered woman who'd entered the Kossith ship, but such transformation did not come without its detriments of trauma. Still, her personality had been retained and Adrian pretended to be annoyed by this despite being relieved deep down.

“I'm not sure any distance will help with what I'm hearing.." Adrian's face visibly soured, it didn't take a Nightingale to hear the horrid whispers of what had happened in Ardentgate and Adrian was already sick at the thought of more blight creeping through. He'd learned from their brief time in the Lostlands that the blight leeching out into the world was inevitable, but it hardly made Adrian settled at the thought. “I take it your little transformation doesn't come with immunity to blight?" Of course he'd wondered how Juneau felt, if anything at all regarding this, the moment Adrian had heard of the news, but there was this dry and humorous scoff as Juneau told him to deny the Queen any aid.

“Charming as ever, Juneau, though I don't think taking a page out of your book would be so terrible." Sure, he was sassy, but Adrian had always felt too forgiving, too neutral; he'd never taken a stand for himself much less for any group of mistreated people.

[jamieprice]

Person: @adrianvoll Location: New Haus Turns out there was a lot more to getting a home with someone than just picking out the actual place and curtains. Room by room Jamie had painstakingly made sure the place felt human, alive, cozy even. Adrian had lost a home when Iskaldrik fell and he had half a mind that the witch had never really had somewhere all that nice. Bedrooms were important to normal people, having a space that was comfortable and familiar was something everyone needed. He'd had a coffin for decades now, didn't have much use for an actual bed aside from leisure. And now he was looking at one in the center of an otherwise unpacked room that was definitely too big for just one person. Clearing his throat, he leaned against the wooden doorway, he looked to where the other man was going through trunks and boxes, and he was once again somewhat nervous. "Ye know, I've never actually really slept one of those." Tipping his head, his chin pointed towards the unmade, four poster bed.

[adrianvoll]

His Iskaran home had always been rather rustic, deep within a village near the Ironwoods. The word home had been tethered to this looming anxiety and inquietude, a witch would would inevitably weave much like any witch, but one who still felt paralyzed at the very idea for a long, long time. Adrian didn't have much to his name, all that he'd come to gather had been on this whirlwind of Iskaldrik collapsing and Lysara becoming his new home. What he'd collected over the past year or so had been a haphazard collection of mostly trinkets, hardly any valuables - yet as Jamie leaned in the doorway Adrian cracked a smile. The strigoi represented a true gemstone amongst ruins, Adrian had never held much in his hands, but he'd held the other, and that was something vital to him.

"Well there had been quite a few months I'd gotten used to a lack of bed also," cold floors, frigid dirt, reverting back to a bed had felt strange; at least the bed in the Tower had been unnaturally rigid, as if made of stone. "There's not much left to unpack," his tone is quiet; it was safer here, as tensions within the world came to an apex once more, Adrian was happier to be far away from the inside of the Tower once more.

[freydis-freydat]

“It’s alright,” she responded quietly, her intonation making it clear that it was anything but. Regardless, what choice did she have? To retire herself because she had lost her sword and shield? This was a disadvantage, a wound, but it was not a defeat. Adrian’s offer was appreciated, and Freydis knew he did not mean to replace the irreplaceable. “The latter, I would hope. But I can’t bring myself to think of what could possibly stand in for what I lost and I don’t know the full depths of your capabilities either,” she admitted. A moment later she lifted a hand to attempt to be blase in wiping a threatening tear away. “Bit of ash in my eye.” Were there ashes in forges? Freydis certainly didn’t know, but it seemed like a convenient excuse. “Maybe we could decide on something together?”

[adrianvoll]

Freydis held a strong resolve, often she held sturdy when others crumbled, but Adrian had learned rather quickly that she wore her emotions quite clearly on her expression, no matter how upright Freydis held herself. Adrian frowned, softly, though it was not something of pity, but of a shared grief, even if he would not wholly understand the detrimental loss felt. "When we were on that journey together... I spent many days in the forge, bonding with the others there, learning the truth of the power within the forge. A spirit of determination was what I'd crafted into a hammer of the forge. It'd be an honor to do it again, but it's not something I can craft alone; it's for you, to be wielded by you. The spirit we preserve has to know it's wielder." Adrian's smile returned, faintly, for this would be a grueling process for her to endure if she so wished it, but one that would be worth the weight in gold.

[hiddenvaldis]

“That is very much the point,” she admits with a snort and shrug. Adrian knows just enough of her secrets to be well aware of how precarious the line she is threading is, so she is sure he would get the implications behind her choice. Better to be careful, even if she knows there are likely more than a handful of witches that are aware of her identity. Valdís is many things, but stupid is not one of them. She knows there are likely people waiting to use her in the wings, and she is preparing for whatever shape that will take. For now, though, she is focusing on learning as much as she can to make her reckless choice worth it’s price. 

“I was invited,” she says, slowly as she considers whether she would give him the full truth if he asked or not. She supposes that she would have to see. Likely not all, as to not soil his shiny prospects anymore than their current friendship and his status as an Iskaran does in the eyes of the Lysaran. “And I was reminded that as powerful as I am, I can become more still.”

[adrianvoll]

"But what would your crew think?" Adrian teased this in an admonishing tone, but truly he was proud of her for leaning towards the hope of shaping her magic into something she could truly master. Many witches Adrian had met since living in Lysara spoke of the Tower as this blight and disservice, but Adrian could see the positives it had towards shaping one's magic and he hoped Valdis would discover this, too.

The surprise was clear on his expression, brows furrowed, eyes glanced over her transformed complexion, before he's slowly nodding in acceptance of the fact. "But, I don't get it. They know you're a pirate, but none else are to be the wiser to this? The Tower invited you?" Considering their rigorous and grueling process his confusion is shifted to a wide smile, something of disbelief but also further pride towards his friend's abilities.

[dejatheeinnkeeper]

"Lemme give you a tour, can I get you a pint?" She's speaking quickly, excitedly, it was rare that people seemed to show up without needing to head off on some grand thing up North. Without waiting to get an answer, Deja phases back through the bar and promptly goes about pouring him some mead from her secret stash. Underneath the right end of the bar was a little shelf full of the higher quality stuff, stronger stuff. "Tavern area's all the rage but there's so many little nooks and crannies to this place."

[adrianvoll]

Adrian admired her excitement, it was this pure sense of revelry that each of them so desperately needed. Often, the witch found himself feeling great surprise whenever Deja lent herself to her true spirit nature and though he momentarily blinked, the smile still remained. "It'll likely taste more like a cocktail than what Iskaran mead tastes like," there was some sense of relief in Adrian's tone, though he'd always miss what faint bits of history could remind him of home. "I've heard you've bene trying to fix up a garden amongst many things."

[freydis-freydat]

“I really ought to be more used to people feeling that way when they see me coming,” Freydis responded with a gentle smile at Adrian’s comment on weariness. She took no personal offense to his sentiment given she knew she was most easily found running headlong into trouble and that danger seemed to linger where she was present. “But hopefully this request is more manageable.” When he indicated he was all ears, she lifted her empty right hand and her barren right forearm. No sword, no shield. There was obvious mourning in the way she signaled to him, but no matter how heavy the guilt she carried with her over the loss of Hjalmar and her sword from the dreamscape was, she required replacements. “I couldn’t think of anyone more appropriate or equipped to help.”

[adrianvoll]

"Oh, Freydis," there was a bit of mourning in his tone, he could understand, but not to the depths of Freydis. She'd been equipped with the shield and sword ever since he'd known her and there was no telling how long she'd bonded with such equipment long before Adrian had ever met the shieldmaiden. "I can fasten you with anything for your needs. Something... useful that just gets the job done and protects you, or something to stand up alongside what your sword and shield once offered." As one who doted most of his quotidian time within a forge, he could always tell there was some level of sentience and power hammered into the sword and shield she was once attuned with. It could be done again, but Adrian offered this carefully; he wanted Freydis to describe exactly what she wished to be gifted.

[vuldak-juneau]

“Has no one ever told you it isn’t polite to keep a customer waiting?” Juneau called back in response to Adrian’s voice from the front of the shop. She lazily disguised her tone by way of an over-exaggerated lilt of primness and properness as if it would make her sound like some sort of noblewoman. It would take more than a half-assed attempt to trick Adrian into thinking she was anyone but herself given the deep, gravelly quality of her speaking voice. But she didn’t care much if she fooled him or not. 

Juneau met his borderline comical blinking at eye level when he stepped out. She had perched cross legged on the tall counter where business was done in the time it had taken him to step out to meet her. “I didn’t think you’d miss me that much,” she shrugged when he commented on the time it had taken her to show up. Realistically, she had meant to come around sooner, but she ultimately ended up wherever the wind took her rather than any sort of intention.  “If I care?” she questioned, lifting a brow as if he had insulted her. Juneau had never shown a special interest in the work Adrian did, but she had never been outright dismissive of it either. “Let’s see it then,” she agreed, reaching a hand out to him in the hopes he’d lend her a hand in jumping down from the tall surface. “Then we can go and I’ll get you something to eat or something.”

[adrianvoll]

"Customers who walk through here don't often have patience in their bones, but they also don't find it rude to be kept waiting," Adrian shrugged with a mild grin, of anyone out there, he was most appreciative of Juneau as they tallied another horror to be added to their list of things-I-survived-but-shouldn't-have. She'd rather quickly situated herself upon the counter and Adrian would have been, even mildly, impressed had he not known her for being so clearly agile.

Adrian quirked his own brow at Juneau, snorted somewhat dismissively, "Your charm and your wit is impossible to replace, Juneau. Your positivity, too," a knowing smile is what the grin inevitably settled into, as the two often fell into these teasing remarks with one another.

"A few things, actually," Adrian's eyes glanced towards the back room before turning on his heel knowing that Juneau would eventually linger behind him. "More and more people come in each and everyday hoping to arm themselves with something," often some people had to be talked out of the construction of something too massive for themselves to be able to wield, but Adrian did his best to configure something that warranted protection for those who felt great uncertainty as the affects of the Kossith's influence still lingered. "Apparently the Queen wasn't too forthcoming with any aid for retrieving us or for Haven." He stated this quietly as they walked past Alrik's workspace to Adrian's own.

[adrianvoll]

starter for @alessiathepath.

where: hartbound

when: current timeline

note: via #plot-calls!

As much as Adrian would have preferred to take a deep dive into any studies awaiting him at the Tower, the witch suddenly had a strange aversion, locking himself away in Hartbound daily. It was better to constitute this as meaningful work, and in some lapse of ways it was, hours toiling away in the forge to make weaponry for various people who had endured the same troubles of the Kossith ship as he had. Adrian felt struck with a strange lack of direction lately and if he continued to revolve his work around the forge, as his life had always been, then eventually, inevitably, something would click again for the witch.

The door opened, and considering he'd been certain to have locked it due to how early it was in the day, Adrian was curious. The sword he'd been mindlessly polishing was placed down and when he did not hear the familiar and heavy footsteps of Alrik, Adrian tried not to wholly panic, stepping towards the front with a mild fright. "Oh, Alessia, it's you," hand over his heart, he'd breathe a small sigh of relief, "I don't think you'll see Alrik for a while." He didn't mean to sound dismissive, but avoiding the Tower mostly also tied into avoiding those in attendance to it and he felt conflicted over the reminder of what they had shared via the Kossith ship together.

[jamieprice]

He cuts this act short all the time, kissing Adrian. Pecks are fine, he can place them and scurry away and play it off as cheeky, he's fast after all. Other kisses are kept relatively chaste and in the few events anything has even began getting heated, the moment he feels the familiar ache at the back of his throat, he breaks them apart. In a way, he thinks he's always blamed it on the bloodlust. But he can't this time, he's more than satiated, his shirt is still stained with the blood of those that'd captured them. And so he clings to the witch, one hand at the side of his neck and the other at the side of his face, fingers curling around his jaw just under his ear. Jamie kisses Adrian like he's wanted to time and time again only to hold himself back, but not this time. His mouth moves against the witch's slowly, his ears attuned to the sound of Adrian's heartbeat.

[adrianvoll]

There's this frightening and clear vulnerability that Jamie has never once lent himself to, it bleeds into the kiss, soft and inviting, striking and lethal. Adrian was certain that Jamie never had kissed him for so long, and though Adrian would never admit to counting the seconds, there's a sense of relief in the witch that comes with the fact that Jamie suddenly leans even closer, flush against him, fingers brushing beneath his ear. His own arms relax, though his fingers are still knuckle-white, crumpled up upon the fabric of Jamie's tattered shirt.

Feverish, doomed, but somehow peaceful, the chattering sound of the forest melts away behind him, the slow rush of the ocean fades away and Adrian sighs, his heart slowed, defenses down; feeling completely safe for the first time in months.

[adrianvoll]

starter for @vuldak-juneau.

where: hartbound

when: current timeline

note: as, vaguely, discussed

The world continued to turn and pivot, plenty of the royals continued on as though such violence had not struck their borders again, and Adrian channeled all his fury into the forge. He was grateful that Alrik vied to work with him, it allowed him a place to truly invoke such talents outside of the Tower, without any pressure nor expectations as to what the organization could ever hope to glean from him. Adrian had once found it borderline blasphemous that Kay flaunted the idea of never completing his studies within the Tower and turning into a heavy anti-establishment vibe, but now Adrian realized, both begrudgingly and humorously, that life would continue to throw a wrench in any plans to finish such race.

He heard the door of Hartbound squeak open slowly as though someone was entirely unsure of entering at all. Adrian called out from within the recesses of the shop that he'd be only a moment, wiping sweat from his brow and finishing putting away the tools that had previously cooled from molten to only slightly warmed. The witch strolled out, stopping short only when he saw it was Juneau, blinking and over-dramatizing the situation until she'd likely storm out.

It'd been a good month since their island adventure and Adrian had simply tried to keep busy this entire time as though his mind would catch up to him and force him to look back upon what they had endured as a whole. He forbade it, refused it even, and Adrian tried not to completely wince at the sight of his good friend. "Well, it took you long enough to visit," he fell into a nonchalant rhythm, indeed glad she was here, but happy to hopefully get some fresh air too, "I could show you what I've been working on, if you care, but I'm also about ready to get outside," he nodded towards the door she had entered from but lingered at the door which led to the forge area.

[dejatheeinnkeeper]

Person: @adrianvoll Location: Yeah she brought him to the Stumble Inn finally Adrian hardly gets to the actual bar before she's phasing through it and promptly wrapping her arms around his broad frame. She doesn't say anything for a second, just let it sink in that he is there, and he is solid and alive. It's only when she steps back does she look up at him and grin, another friend who'd survived the Kossith. "Well aren't you a sight for dead, tired, and sore eyes."

[adrianvoll]

He's not ever really known for smiling - really it's the opposite; brooding - but for Deja a smile indeed erupts on his face as the hug is easily reciprocated. Adrian pauses to look around before his eyes focus back on the spirit who, even despite their circle of eight bonding them, had become incredibly important to the witch, "I got your letter and got here as fast as I could." It had been more invitation than letter, but it meant the world to Adrian to have even been invited to her Inn.

[freydis-freydat]

who: @adrianvoll where: the forge when: a few weeks after their return from the ship notes: let me know if you need any changes

Calm and quiet still felt strange after the constant chaos and misery on the Kossith’s dreadnought. It was strange to occupy any space that could be described as serene. Freydis now found occupying places of quietude set her nerves alight and left her mind waiting for the other shoe to drop. But a forge was anything but quiet, tranquil, and calm. They were places of flying sparks, roaring fires, and the clashing of metal on metal. She was glad to meet Adrian here rather than anywhere else, not that she had let him know she was coming. While she waited for one of the helpers to fetch Adrian, she caught a glimpse of Alrik’s frame from the corner of her eye. She reminded herself to take the time to ask how he was and to ask after his sister before she left the shop.

A moment later, Adrian materialized through one of the doorways in the forge and Freydis stepped up to meet him. Her arms lifted halfway to offer a hug, and while she was not precious about her clothing, she did pause in case he was too warm from his work or did not wish to be greeted in such a way. “It’s good to see you again,” she stated warmly. “I hope I’m not interrupting you, but I had a request.” And frankly, there was no one she trusted more to fulfill what she was there to ask for. Despite the time that had passed back in Lysara, her eyes did wander to what she could see of his arms, mindful to check that they were no longer burned and injured as they had been during the rebellion on the ship.

[adrianvoll]

What once had become a grueling hobby and occupation that he sought to leave behind in the soot of Iskaldrik, was quickly revitalized and transitioned to something he certainly couldn't do without. He'd nearly abandoned the idea of joining Vulcan's Forge before he and his circle of eight had been established within the astral prison and such tenacity for the forge was only further strengthened by the lethal loss of Conláed and the fight against the Kossith. The dreadnought had been cruelly silent up until their self-liberation; one could hear the lapping of waves, the occasional whip strike one's back or the inevitable yell of a Kossith leader slicing through the silence. It wasn't wholly quiet, but it was indeed an unbearable balance. As such, the forge comforted Adrian again, salved wounds that were indelible within, and manifested the fire within him again.

He was surprised to be interrupted and further surprised, though pleased, to understand it was because Freydis was looking for him. A small bit of anxiety seized his heart momentarily, but Adrian still strode forward and, although he was indeed warm and sweaty, still reciprocated the gesture lightly, one arm swung loosely around her. "I get a bit weary when you say you have a request of some kind," his mind will easily recall when they ventured down to the engine room moments before the ship imploded and separated them, "but I'm still all ears." A weak smile supported this claim but his eyes expressed how genuine his words were.

[jamieprice]

He thinks the two of them are getting better at it, the whole hugging thing, and Jamie doesn't hesitate in embracing the blonde as she reaches them. He releases a breath he does not need to take and his eyes met Adrian's briefly over the top of the blonde's head. "We're fine." Jamie adds, at least he is fine and Adrian, to Juneau, is fine, there's solidarity in providing a united front that they're all alive, he thinks. "What an' who have ye found?" Stepping back after the embrace, only a little sheepish, Jamie crosses his arms over his chest and looks to the expanse of ridged earth. His entire fortune to just be able to stroll down some green hills for once. "Step one is getting out of here. Step tae calming me down fae fully panicking that we're surrounded by water." He glances to both of them and shifts his weight from foot to foot, as if the mere thought has him wanting to bolt.

[vuldak-juneau]

In almost any other circumstance Juneau would have been downright surly at the idea of being wedged between the two men’s bodies in a tight group hug. Each of them a head and shoulder taller than her easily, she felt somewhat compressed, but she didn’t care. She didn’t care how they all stunk of the wilds and sweat, she didn’t care that she was still breathless from her hike and that they still had a fair amount of the mountain to descend. She was just happy they were both there, one breathing and the other in his state of casual undead. Both of them were fine–or as fine as they could be. 

“Nothing worthwhile on that side of the island,” Juneau reported curtly, her own arms crossing. The gesture wasn’t meant to mirror or copy Jamie, but it likely would have been a humorous sight for Adrian–to watch these two who cared so deeply for him pretend to be nonplussed and above the confines of emotion. It was not so, and it likely never would be again.

Juneau looked up to Jamie and quickly stated, “Someone is coming. Soon, too. Someone found me on the other side of the mountain, but he was alone.” And Juneau would not have dared to leave the island with Casimir once she learned it was also inhabited by Jamie and Adrian, and possibly others. “We just need to wait, but they’ll come to this side of the island. We can manage another day or two in the meantime.” Of this much, Juneau was confident. She looked to Adrian, and then down the slope to the beach, “Are you exhausted enough that you need a ride or can you manage?” Juneau did well in settings like this–young as she was, it had been the makings of her career for nearly a decade and she took a sort of command and lead in these environments without realizing it.

[adrianvoll]

Adrian could feel the almost innate protest of Juneau, that despite reciprocating the hug there was still something for her to pluck from the interaction that was largely based on protest from her. Such feeling only made Adrian smile all the harder, indeed he missed her surly demeanor and sour expressions; for the witch, he'd only assumed her as a realist and not a wet blanket.

"I can scrounge through berries and we can catch fish but I don't think that's something for Jamie to be keen on when it comes to survival," he looked between Jamie and Juneau; it felt like some crushing domino affect to their reunion that indeed if Adrian was down on blood to give then Jamie would only get weaker as a result. Based on rustlings heard at night he had to imagine there was a bountiful selection of animals throughout the island, and though he was not a strigoi, Adrian had to figure such idea was not pleasant. "But it'll have to do." Said with a sort of clipped finality as he tried to scooch away from being the current downer of the situation at hand, especially with the knowledge Juneau had seen others.

"It's nice you decided to stick with us," Adrian smirked, parsing mentally through Juneau's words to decide this fact.

@jamieprice

[adrianvoll]

starter for @lunadarkwoodx.

where: you choose tbh < 3

when: current timeline

note: via #plot-calls, also can't believe this their first time chit chatting!

The witch felt a great bit of uncertainty since returning to normal. Back in Skohfjell, most of his anxieties could be considered mundane in comparison to today's - each day spent in some lackluster sense, fearing the thought of witchers that would take him off to the mines. Such thoughts and fears felt like another lifetime ago, how Adrian had even come to somewhat befriend a witcher in recent times, bond with them in a circle of eight. A life unlived was what his amounted to before his home was turned to dust and embers, and now it seemed Adrian was struggling to keep up with the rate in which Lysara spun maddeningly.

The red cloak stood out like a beacon within the crowd and Adrian wandered towards it with haste, though not wishing to alarm her he called out, "-Luna?" As though there could somehow be another who donned the same blood red cloak with wisps of blonde falling out behind it. They'd grown up in the same community, just outside the Ironwood forests and yet Adrian was always the equivalent of a stranger simply because his mother had him sheltered as though it'd protect Adrian from the fate of the mines.