born of no love

the song of the white wolf (is still in progress)

[itinerunt]

itinerunt >> gyofukuki now

ooc;; i'll admit everything's going slower than i planned, recovery eating up my energy, so the new blog is nowhere near what i'd consider ready to go, but teensy pieces of writing will happen already while i'm collecting some more drafts and all. my plan is to transfer everything there gradually but don't feel pressure to continue if you're not vibing with it! also feel free to let me know if you'd want to start elsewhere instead or if you have any questions orrrr something <3 much love!

[itinerunt]

itinerunt >> gyofukuki now

ooc;; i'll admit everything's going slower than i planned, recovery eating up my energy, so the new blog is nowhere near what i'd consider ready to go, but teensy pieces of writing will happen already while i'm collecting some more drafts and all. my plan is to transfer everything there gradually but don't feel pressure to continue if you're not vibing with it! also feel free to let me know if you'd want to start elsewhere instead or if you have any questions orrrr something <3 much love!

[itinerunt]

spamming u with silly lil memes pretending you are around *summons you onto the dash*

well your magic never fails, here to love u

[vaememes]

THE    FIVE    SENSES     /      SENTENCE    STARTERS  .

some   may   be   nsfw   and   /   or   be   triggering.   

01    :     TOUCH .

❝ i love this [ FABRIC ], it feels satisfying. ❞

❝ your touch. it leaves me breathless. ❞

❝ your touch is unlike any other. ❞

​❝ have you ever felt anything more comfortable? ❞

❝ feel this. what does it feel like to you? ❞

❝ i wanted to see what it felt like. ❞

​❝ touch it. i dare you. ❞

​❝ you felt ice cold when i touched you. ❞

​❝ you feel warm to me. ❞

​❝ i love the feel of [ FABRIC ] against my skin. ❞

​❝ i love the feel of your skin against mine. ❞

​❝ i would never touch anyone else. ❞

​❝ i love the feel of your hair between each of my fingers. ❞

​❝ don’t you dare touch me. ❞

​❝ i want to feel your lips against my own. ❞

​❝ i can feel your pulse. it jumped. ❞

​❝ let me give you a massage. ❞

❝ you feel like home to me. ❞ 

02     :      TASTE .

❝ i love the taste of you. ❞

❝ i can never forget that taste. ❞

❝ fair warning, it does have a bitter taste. ❞

​❝ no offense, you just aren’t my taste. ❞

❝ can i have a taste of that? ❞

❝ i have yearned for the taste of your lips. ❞

​❝ that tasted pretty good actually. ❞

​❝ it just left a really bad taste in my mouth so no thanks. ❞

​❝ nothing taste better than chocolate. ❞

​❝ i’ve got something you might want to taste. ❞

​❝ i will forever savor that taste. ❞

​❝ blood has such a metallic taste. ❞

​❝ my taste buds are mad at me after eating that. ❞

​❝ how’s it feel to get a taste of your own medicine? ❞

​❝ you didn’t even taste it. ❞

​❝ trust me, you’ll want to taste this. ❞

​❝ i think it has a bit of bitter sweet taste. ❞

❝ so you tasted it, did you like it? ❞

03     :      SIGHT .

❝ i see you. ❞

❝ i’ve never seen things so clearer than i do now. ❞

❝ it’s too dark, i can’t see anything. ❞

​❝ how can you see anything? it’s pitch dark. ❞

❝ i’ve looked close enough and i see you for what you are. ❞

❝ please, just look at me. ❞

​❝ stop staring at me like that. ❞

​❝ get that light out of my face. ❞

​❝ it’s so bright outside today. ❞

​❝ what’s wrong? what did you see? ❞

​❝ you’re scared, you must have saw something. ❞

​❝ what i saw, you’ll never believe me. ❞

​❝ i’ve never seen you before. ❞

​❝ have we seen one another before? ❞

​❝ you see me for what i truly am. ❞

​❝ i didn’t see anything. ❞

​❝ did you see that? ❞

❝ i can’t believe my eyes. ❞

04     :      SOUND .

❝ shhh, i just heard something. ❞

❝ did you hear that? ❞

❝ what is that sound? ❞

​❝ i missed the sound of your voice. ❞

❝ do you hear me? stay away from me. ❞

❝ i hear you, loud and clear. ❞

​❝ i’m sorry, what was that? i didn’t hear you. ❞

​❝ i’ve heard that sound before. ❞

​❝ you didn’t hear anything at all? ❞

​❝ can you hear what they’re saying? ❞

​❝ aw, i love the sound of music. ❞

​❝ i never said i could hear them. ❞

​❝ wait, hear that? something is coming. ❞

​❝ i could hear screams … ❞

​❝ i heard you all the way upstairs. ❞

​❝ you didn’t just hear that? that sound? that noise? ❞

​❝ trust me, you’re going to want to hear this. ❞

❝ please, just hear me out. ❞

05     :      SMELL .

❝ what is that smell? ❞

❝ i have missed your smell. ❞

❝ you smell nice. ❞

​❝ it’s unlike anything i’ve smelled before. ❞

❝ i smell the food cooking from here. ❞

❝ do you smell that? ❞

​❝ how are you able to smell that? ❞

​❝ no offense but it really smells. ❞

​❝ it’s starting to smell. ❞

​❝ tell me, you’ve smelled this before. ❞

​❝ i know that smell, it’s the smell of lies. ❞

​❝ i can smell you from here. ❞

​❝ are you smelling me? ❞

​❝ i missed the smell of your hair. ❞

​❝ i need to step away, get some fresh air. ❞

​❝ do you smell that? that’s the smell of freedom. ❞

​❝ i could never erase your smell. ❞

❝ i can smell the fear on you from here. ❞

[vuulpecula]

The way she watched him, like a cat from the shadow of the stairwell, eyes all but reflecting the light as she narrowed them. Bold of him, to insinuate that something might happen to Grisella as she stood there, watching, listening. The woman was practically drooling at the bag of coin that had been held out to her and Fox knew she was debating snatching it from his hand. She almost wished she would, if only to see if the white-haired stranger pulled it back or simply cut her hands at the wrists. Teach her a lesson about stealing. Not that that would help. There was nothing Grisella loved more than coin.

Looking at his smile, all teeth and no humor, her nostrils flared slightly. Her answer to his question depended on the situation. Should the others padding around in the rooms above their heads be free to do as they wished, with the means and the opportunity for something more, then yes, she would leave. In an instant. If not, she did not know if she could stand to go. To leave behind the other men and women she had come to know. They were not family, but they were bound by the same invisible chain Gisella had bound around their throats. Still, to answer in front of her? It would not be a single night down the steps, past the door locked tightly, into the suffocating darkness–it would be days.

“What do you mean by that?” Grisella snapped, entering the hall, her arms crossed. She spoke to Geralt, but her eyes were ever on the bag he held out. “Are you going to pay for the company or not,” she hissed through her rotten teeth.

“Do you believe you are the first to ask?” Fox had decided on her answer during the exchange, though it wasn’t really an answer at all. “Please do not insult me by making promises, weaving tales, believing whatever lies that you feel within your heart to be true.” Did he not understand that any other answer would be signing her own death certificate? Well, she could have said she would stay, could have defended Grisella, but there was only so far that she was willing to lie.

“To stay, to go, what difference does it make? There are as many monsters out there as there are in here, likely more.” Fox continued, gaze drifting to the planks of the floor. Grisella ‘hmph'ed’ happily at that, showing she agreed. It was what she told everyone with the misfortune to work for her. Take the lesser of the evils and live. “You do not know me.” Yet, there was a part of her that felt he did. As if they were somehow cut from the same dark piece of cloth.

“Well,” Grisella interrupted. “Enough talking for free, get upstairs if that is what you want. It’s late and I would like to close up; know which doors I need to lock and unlock. I’m a very busy woman you see!”

[itinerunt]

He got the right idea, quite a wrong direction. As things stood, the owner was quite clearly despicable and to blame for all this nastiness, but the actual threat was not up above, not in any of the rooms, but just below their feet, stumbling in the darkness. Ready to devour any source of light in these dreary establishment. And it looked like the gentle beauty up the stairs was to become its next treat.

In the meantime, there was still other troubles to attend to. All encased in a rather noisy, nosey form. Daring, too, considering she drew even closer. Foolish.

"I promise nothing. I have no tales to share." He responded to the young woman, though his eyes now remained fixed on the floor, rather pointedly. All of the sudden he seemed to gain some semblance of amusement. He has seen a lot in his days, but what he suspected was happening around him, on the daily basis, was potentially quite unique, in its own macabre way.

"There are. And you are quite right, I don't, that's why I asked. Seemed more in line in your expectations of proper manners. As expected, at a price of wasting time." As carefully as he listened, trying to find his answers between the lines of what was being spoken, he didn't look up again to meet her gaze. It wasn't until the owner snapped at him again that he shifted his focus from the floor.

The ugliest smile painted on his face anew, he nodded in agreement, and threw the pouch in the air so she could easily grab it, money exchanging hands just as she demanded. But the moment it took for her fingers closed around it, was the moment it took for Geralt to reach for his sword. Soft and quiet sound, and then a more gruesome, moist as metal met flesh, separating head from the rest of the body.

"She'd keep keys downstairs on her, wouldn't she?" He let his hand fall to his side, his hold on the sword becoming almost limp. No trace of satisfaction or remorse, no trace of any emotions at all anymore on his face, yellow eyes uncharacteristically hollow, he looked up but found himself unable to actually look the light-haired woman in the eye again. He hasn't found the answers he was looking for with her at all, and it could only get more troublesome if he pressed her now.

"I'd rather finish what I started and then I'll be on my way."

[itinerunt]

He got the right idea, quite a wrong direction. As things stood, the owner was quite clearly despicable and to blame for all this nastiness, but the actual threat was not up above, not in any of the rooms, but just below their feet, stumbling in the darkness. Ready to devour any source of light in these dreary establishment. And it looked like the gentle beauty up the stairs was to become its next treat.

In the meantime, there was still other troubles to attend to. All encased in a rather noisy, nosey form. Daring, too, considering she drew even closer. Foolish.

"I promise nothing. I have no tales to share." He responded to the young woman, though his eyes now remained fixed on the floor, rather pointedly. All of the sudden he seemed to gain some semblance of amusement. He has seen a lot in his days, but what he suspected was happening around him, on the daily basis, was potentially quite unique, in its own macabre way.

"There are. And you are quite right, I don't, that's why I asked. Seemed more in line in your expectations of proper manners. As expected, at a price of wasting time." As carefully as he listened, trying to find his answers between the lines of what was being spoken, he didn't look up again to meet her gaze. It wasn't until the owner snapped at him again that he shifted his focus from the floor.

The ugliest smile painted on his face anew, he nodded in agreement, and threw the pouch in the air so she could easily grab it, money exchanging hands just as she demanded. But the moment it took for her fingers closed around it, was the moment it took for Geralt to reach for his sword. Soft and quiet sound, and then a more gruesome, moist as metal met flesh, separating head from the rest of the body.

"She'd keep keys downstairs on her, wouldn't she?" He let his hand fall to his side, his hold on the sword becoming almost limp. No trace of satisfaction or remorse, no trace of any emotions at all anymore on his face, yellow eyes uncharacteristically hollow, he looked up but found himself unable to actually look the light-haired woman in the eye again. He hasn't found the answers he was looking for with her at all, and it could only get more troublesome if he pressed her now.

"I'd rather finish what I started and then I'll be on my way."

[weltenwellen]

Mary Oliver, from “Five A.M. in the Pinewoods”, The Truro Bear and Other Adventures: Poems and Essays

[mistress-light]

These views.

[itinerunt]

❛ a golden cage is still just a cage ❜

He run his fingers through his hair, impatiently, pacing the floor. For a moment he himself looks more like a lion in a cage. He isn't, but there is a price to pay.

"Yes. But gold or iron, the fence works both ways." He huffs, still not looking at her. "It's piss poor wisdom to live by, but at least you live by."

Would it be worth it? He can't find the answer. More importantly, it's not for him to answer. It's her choice to make. But does she understand? Yellow eyes meet grey. Could be skies, could be ashes of bridges burnt. All too soon, could be nothing at all.

"It protects both sides. And there may be no way back. Only new dangers and new enemies. And so on, and so forth, every day. If you survive a day, that is."

[anya-chalotra]

#a soft dad and the daughter he’d do anything for

[okruchlodu]

The air outside is sharp and cold, wet with the promise of rain. A stillness hangs in the air, a dead-weight. There’s a sense of foreboding in the chilling frost that encroaches upon the city of Cidaris; a warning, something desolate and hungry about it– too much ice. Winter will soon come, harsh deep and pure, drowning the Continent in its frosty darkness. Yennefer does not mind it; she is shadow and frost herself, a sharp shard of ice, will not warm under a warm touch; has only ever warmed for him; and now he's gone and she has shut that warmth inside an icy heart, unyielding, fixed, unreachable, malefic. There's only cold water under the ice, only sharp winds. She does not mind it; here, in her winter, she is powerful; here in her winter, she does not wilt: she thrives. No one can touch her. Nothing can crawl under her skin; only what she allows.

Yet, life remains, around her. The city is vibrant and thriving in breathless anticipation of the ball meant to be thrown at Vartburg castle tonight, pulsing with energy, the strident bustle of Seaside Bazaar at noon, the ornate streets full of people from the world over. White houses adorned with sloping roofs which glint like shards of shattered glass under the harsh glare of a cold sun, swarm the square and from an open window, a child can be heard, squalling like a seagull. A flock of crows abruptly rises from the frozen cobblestones like dark brume, crowding the skies above. Murmurs of song, and roars of laughter pierce the air which too thrums like a thing alive, and merchants bawl and shriek over the roaring of the furious ocean, flaunting their goods, the many curiosities brought to the port from the world over, many of them, truly astounding. The sea on the horizon burns like a jewel. The creaking of a carriage through the streets, then, black horses snorting and stamping their hooves as it comes to a halt. A man emerges from it, undoubtedly a sorcerer in his coal black garments, the sharp, coldness of his eyes. He has dark, slightly waving deep brown hair that falls to his shoulders, a sharp jaw bristling with stubble and hooded eyes, fire bright and full of amusement. At his ear, some magical symbol, a singular earring, glimmers.

Yennefer of Vengerberg, swathed in black silks and velvet, soon follows, grasping at his forearm so that she might not slip; she descends from the shadows like river water, dark and mysterious, gleaming obsidian. Her violet gaze, cold and aloof, dispassionate and menacing, drapes to her feet as she gathers the rich silks of her black skirts in one lace-gloved hand, flowing around shapely legs; her face, pale under the sunlight, radiates with fierce, provocative beauty. Dangerous. Shamelessly alluring. And dazzling. She tosses her head and draws the hood of her ink black velvet cloak trimmed with white fur back, shakes out her hair, and a mass of raven black curls cascades down her back to her waist. They ripple and shimmer under the sun, like spun silk. She deigns to smile at their driver, bestows an apathetic, cool look upon him. The mage draws her closer and she links her arm with his, says something sharply when he asks her a question. She's beauty and menace, loose hair and an excessively tightened belt round a willowy waist, a lace halterneck, plum lipstick. Wonderfully narrow, full lips press into a sharp smirk as she hastily unfastens the brooch from her cape, revealing white lace under its velvet, enveloping her breast. The sweet scent of crushed lilacs and gooseberries fills the air around her, mixing with the sharp tang of the sea coming to her in long slow drifts as they begin to pick their way down to the square, as she huffs coldly, says something to her companion, nervously toying with the obsidian star hung upon her slim throat, its active diamonds pulsating, sparkling like silvered flames.

The sky above them crackles with distant thunder.

@itinerunt

[itinerunt]

The noise, the scents, the bustle of the city overwhelms him for a little while, his sensitive senses and instincts momentarily driven to an overdrive. Maybe if he hasn't been in such a rush, maybe if it wasn't for the alcohol coursing through his vains, maybe if it wasn't for months spent almost exclusively in wilderness. Maybe if it wasn't for... excitement. A rare drive for him, but a drive nonetheless, pushing him forward right into the centre of Cidaris.

Soon it will be winter and he will rest for a while in distant, cold walls of Kaer Morhen, be among his kind for a while, find out who's made it through another year of hunting. There was a somber sort of peace to it. The opposite of what he felt now. Strange premonition he was about to face a whole different kind of adventure, even though the invitation itself looked perfectly mundane.

Jaskier was in need of companionship, and though he could hardly be suspected of lacking in that department in any circumstances, he was very insistant that it had to be Geralt. And that there would be a lot of food and drinks and an inviting atmosphere, even for a witcher. Rare, if true. And yet there was something weirdly exhilirating already in losing himself to a crowd, hood of a leather coat masking his face from cold and looks, feeling almost invisible, but... included.

The sunset painted the streets red and gold and for a moment Geralt stopped, letting himself soak those last few moments of dying sunlight, steadying his breath and racing mind. He felt half feral, hungry, yet for what, he couldn't quite place. And then it reaches him, contrast to the backdrop of salty quality the air here had. Flowery, faint scent, with a hint of goosberries. Absurd, misplaced, dazzling.

And for a moment he just wishes he could stop breathing all together, sudden pain piercing right through his heart. He wishes he could close his eyes, turn the other way and rush to find his friend. His body tells a different story this time though, chin lifted as if he needed those couple of centrimeters to tower above the rest of those around him, lower lip bitten almost to a point of bleeding in the moment of focus, yellow eyes searching the vast moving crowd.

There she was, the snow queen. By far scariest creature he'd endure. Too often since they parted he thought he'd seen her, just out of the corner of his eyes, that he felt, just faintly, touch of her cold hands. It was never real. Until it was. Until it could be, again. Right and centre, he could see her. And for a moment, nobody else. And there it is, the bitter aftertaste. Because there is somebody, after all, he looks like a shadow next to her, dim, insignificant. Still, he is there. With her.

Thunder sounds and he can't tell if it's true or just in the back of his head.

[itinerunt]

(:

[thedragonsprompts]

various things spoken in an adventuring party pt.2

part 2 of an assortment of quotes and sayings i've found doom scrolling through pinterest that i think an adventuring party would say during their never ending perilous adventures . please do not copy/repost or add to this list, thank you!

Affectionate ❛ i am in love with an idiot ❜ ❛ i’d be his if he asked  ❜ ❛ even your rage is beautiful  ❜ ❛ there’s still good in you  ❜ ❛ my darling, you will never be unloved by me ❜ ❛ you are too well tangled in my soul  ❜

Questions ❛ are you a monster or a victim?  ❜ ❛ can anyone betray anyone?  ❜ ❛ who in the fuck authorized this?  ❜ ❛ where do you purchase your audacity from? ❜ ❛ why is everyone in this kingdom so gods damned stupid?  ❜ ❛ if you don’t terrify people a little bit, then what’s the point? ❜

Banter ❛ people can do worse things than kill you  ❜ ❛ gods help anyone who dares to disrespect me/you  ❜ ❛ magic always comes with a price  ❜ ❛ the gods love to fuck with us  ❜ ❛ i’ve got a spell for that  ❜ ❛ i do very bad things, and i do them very well  ❜

Tragedy ❛ anyone can betray anyone ❜ ❛ not all of us are going to make it out alive ❜ ❛ i was once a child with innocent eyes ❜ ❛ i remember all of them ❜ ❛ i’ve been having a bad day for the past several years ❜ ❛ a golden cage is still just a cage ❜

Fierce ❛ what i did, i did for us ❜ ❛ if they touch you, i’ll break their necks ❜ ❛ it appears that you have mistaken my dislike of causing harm as an inability to do so. ❜ ❛ you are divine violence ❜ ❛ burn it all. ❜ ❛ i am so much more than you told me i was ❜

Antagonistic ❛ lets cause a little trouble ❜ ❛ i think you’re caught between who you are and who you want to be ❜ ❛ tell me what it’s like to conquer  ❜ ❛ you’re a little tragedy, aren’t you? ❜ ❛ disrespectfully, i decline  ❜ ❛ with all due respect, which is none- ❜

Neutral ❛ there’s bravery in being soft ❜ ❛ the trees told me about you ❜ ❛ i do not care for your god. ❜ ❛ if i can still breathe, i’m fine ❜ ❛ i’m nice as fuck. ❜

Comedic Relief ❛ do you mean to give me another one of your stoic nod? ❜ ❛ if you don’t want a sarcastic answer, don’t ask stupid questions ❜ ❛ i’ll get over it. i just need to be dramatic first. ❜ ❛ what’s your favorite pastime? mine is reckless behavior ❜ ❛ i’m definitely the nicest asshole you could ever hope to meet ❜ ❛ i wanna contribute to the chaos ❜ ❛ we can’t giggle, we’re at a crime scene! ❜ ❛ the nonsense has escalated ❜ ❛ go stand over there. your existence is giving me a headache ❜ ❛ being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ❜

BONUS FROM THE HERO TO THE VILLAIN ❛ you took everything from me ❜ ❛ haven’t you taken enough from me? ❜ ❛ go ahead. underestimate me. that’ll be fun. ❜ ❛ touch me and you’ll burn ❜ ❛ the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated ❜ FROM THE VILLAIN TO THE HERO ❛ don’t bleed on my floors ❜ ❛ people will never bleed enough to fulfill your vision of justice ❜ ❛ i am the child/daughter/son of a king who forgot my name ❜ ❛ i am the end of all things; i have drunk the blood of kings. ❜ ❛ congratulations, you have survived! ❜

[ofamplify]

@itinerunt for actress/bodyguard's AU

For the two of them, it was already a long night. Her plans to visit places, and see people really took it out of her. Personally, she couldn't help but wonder how well she was going to sleep tonight. Something just felt off with how together was. Sitting in the back of the car, she watched her bodyguard drive, as she was trying her hardest not to fall asleep.

seeing the lights, the people, and everything that was going on. She just wanted a break from things. it didn't take long to get back to her place. He always did the same thing. parked and walked her to her apartment. But before they even left the car, she looked at him before getting out...

" Hey, would it be an issue if you stayed with me tonight? I know it's last minute, but .. I don't feel like being left alone. "

Getting out of the car, she looked up at the much taller male. Giving him a very innocent look, she stared at him for a few.

"I'll even pay you to stay."

[itinerunt]

Blame it on the weather. Misty, warm, sticky. Made him irritable. He’d stay neutral of course, professional. Ever vigilant, but almost invisible – no small feat, given his posture, but that’s the role he was given, and he’d been perfectly happy with.

Guardian to a star.

Most of the time, there wasn’t much to do; easy job really. And yet, he felt so weary. That night especially felt like it’d never end. He had to try all too much to restrain himself, seeing the way this or that sleazy bastard looked at her. Colleagues, fans, producers, businessmen. Men. All too eager for her attention, always hoping for more.

And yet, she was coming home alone. It gave Geralt a little peace of mind, to see her out of the corner of his eye almost drift away in the backseat, tired but safe from harm. He’d make sure she reaches her place, return the next day. Only-

“Yes, of course, Ms. Iori.” He agreed immediately. Her safety and comfort comes first. Always. This is what he’s paid to do. “I’ll stay.”

Much as he’d like, he tries not to study her face too intrusively. Was it something, someone in particular she’d been worried about? He doesn’t want to push, but it makes him more alert, all weariness gone in an instant.  

[itinerunt]

rpmusings-galore‌:

                                     &&  the morning i thought was dawning 

                                   turned out to be only a fire on the horizon 

                               devouring me and leaving me choking on ash

[itinerunt]

In truth, he would rather not pay any mind to the owner of this cursed hole, insistent as she was to stay by his side. And yet, by nature, he couldn't help but stay vigilant. Wild-eyed, scowling, he followed each of her gestures with his gaze, helf-expecting she could go from vaguely threatening to murderous any second. And even if the same could be said about nimble blonde they were awaiting, the witcher has already decided his position between them.

She returned from the shadows, looking half human, half celestial, ghostly already. And the threat of that, of her disappearing altogether seemed to him very real all of the sudden. If the smallest gust of wind could take her back there, never to return. As if it mattered. World wasn’t kind to creatures like her. Delicate, but brazen. Brazen, but oh, so delicate. He saw it again and again, with little to do about it.

Was he out of line? Possibly. There was little to gain for him meddling here, other than trouble. But that he’d smell the moment he entered the place. It took him a while to place it. Fear. Unbridled. Repulsion. Heavy in the air. Neither of these emotions were particularly strange to him. They tended to follow him, hybrid, witcher, wherever he went. Even more so, he was not used to lose so easily to just anyone in terms of being most despised in any surroundings. Yet here they were. Just what kind of monstrosity was hiding behind the counter, up in the rooms?

Geralt thought by now he knew what to expect. And yet, the resolve of the girl when she looked him in the eye took him aback. Well-studied as she was in the art of indifference, the fire behind her eyes reached his bones, igniting his own stance. His fists and jaw clenched, and yet he just let her go on, he let her stay on the steps. He studied the distance carefully, measuring his own reach, hers, finally - the women still staring him down impatiently.

Jingle of the money in the pouch in his left hand was the only reply he had for her. However, he wasn’t aiming for passing it over to her quite yet. Stopping halfway, he returned the entirety of his attention to the woman in front of him, up the steps. He didn’t pay that much attention to words spoken. Neither did she, it seemed to him. How many times did she have to say them already, never quite learning her lesson? What price was there to pay for her stubbornness if he were to back down?

‘You don’t owe me your kindness.’ He narrowed his eyes. Curiouser and curiouser. He held her gaze. His right hand started fidgeting just slightly. ‘But I don’t think you belong here anymore than I do. Not with the way you hold yourself, even now. And yet. Here you are. Clinging.” His speech turned into drawl, brow raised. If pushed, which direction would she head? Would she dare still to move at all? He didn’t expect anything but distain for him from her side, but even that could help the situation. Perhaps. Maybe. “If Baba Yaga here was to disappear.” A very ugly smile painted his face, all teeth and no humour. “Would you choose to stay, or would you go?”

[itinerunt]

In truth, he would rather not pay any mind to the owner of this cursed hole, insistent as she was to stay by his side. And yet, by nature, he couldn't help but stay vigilant. Wild-eyed, scowling, he followed each of her gestures with his gaze, helf-expecting she could go from vaguely threatening to murderous any second. And even if the same could be said about nimble blonde they were awaiting, the witcher has already decided his position between them.

She returned from the shadows, looking half human, half celestial, ghostly already. And the threat of that, of her disappearing altogether seemed to him very real all of the sudden. If the smallest gust of wind could take her back there, never to return. As if it mattered. World wasn’t kind to creatures like her. Delicate, but brazen. Brazen, but oh, so delicate. He saw it again and again, with little to do about it.

Was he out of line? Possibly. There was little to gain for him meddling here, other than trouble. But that he’d smell the moment he entered the place. It took him a while to place it. Fear. Unbridled. Repulsion. Heavy in the air. Neither of these emotions were particularly strange to him. They tended to follow him, hybrid, witcher, wherever he went. Even more so, he was not used to lose so easily to just anyone in terms of being most despised in any surroundings. Yet here they were. Just what kind of monstrosity was hiding behind the counter, up in the rooms?

Geralt thought by now he knew what to expect. And yet, the resolve of the girl when she looked him in the eye took him aback. Well-studied as she was in the art of indifference, the fire behind her eyes reached his bones, igniting his own stance. His fists and jaw clenched, and yet he just let her go on, he let her stay on the steps. He studied the distance carefully, measuring his own reach, hers, finally - the women still staring him down impatiently.

Jingle of the money in the pouch in his left hand was the only reply he had for her. However, he wasn’t aiming for passing it over to her quite yet. Stopping halfway, he returned the entirety of his attention to the woman in front of him, up the steps. He didn’t pay that much attention to words spoken. Neither did she, it seemed to him. How many times did she have to say them already, never quite learning her lesson? What price was there to pay for her stubbornness if he were to back down?

‘You don’t owe me your kindness.’ He narrowed his eyes. Curiouser and curiouser. He held her gaze. His right hand started fidgeting just slightly. ‘But I don’t think you belong here anymore than I do. Not with the way you hold yourself, even now. And yet. Here you are. Clinging.” His speech turned into drawl, brow raised. If pushed, which direction would she head? Would she dare still to move at all? He didn’t expect anything but distain for him from her side, but even that could help the situation. Perhaps. Maybe. “If Baba Yaga here was to disappear.” A very ugly smile painted his face, all teeth and no humour. “Would you choose to stay, or would you go?”

[itinerunt]

out of character;

i'm here, i'm back & ready to crack

[lostcap]

You sleep coiled; tightly wound. Hands are fists beneath pillows, clenched above cotton sheets. You are at war, even in your dreams.

Rest Achilles, the world will wait | p.d (via p.d vulpe)