* WHITE / WOLF

It was comforting that he didn’t ask any questions, didn’t try smother her in concern. Robin would have. As much as she loved him, Marian knew she’d had to fight to be taken seriously by any of the men in her past life. This one was often the same, but with a few exceptions. “Didn’t realise you were here either.” She slid his drink across the bar back to him, waiting to catch the bartenders attention. “I’m setting up a legal clinic, figured Woodshore was as good a place as any.” It was a smooth half truth, as she’d really come because of a letter, one she wished she’d never gotten. “I hope you’re having a better time here than I am.” When the bartender finally walked over with she presumed was meant to be a charming smile, she rolled her eyes as she ordered a drink for herself, and a second for Geralt.

Despite herself, Renfri smiled. It was a dry smile; life really had a way of fucking with everyone. “Raise her?” She echoed, shaking her head. “Even you can’t be selfish enough to project a child to the lifestyle you lead.” A bitter remark, Renfri knew but truthful nonetheless. She was sixteen when she left her own home, sixteen when she was hunted down and raped. She knew how a rough childhood could fuck up a girl and frankly, she felt bad for the child. Having a witcher for a father? Now that was some messed up destiny.

hobbies weren’t something that wynonna had invested any time into since the curse had been activated, unless drinking or annoying dolls counted. there had been the brief nesting phase but she was blaming that entirely on hormones and nothing else. “okay, dude, same, but you have to do something else,” she persisted. maybe if she’d had something that depended less on the rest of black badge, her boredom here wouldn’t have been so restless. “you clearly spend time on your haircare routine.” she added as an afterthought. “also, there’s no monsters here. yet, at least. you’re gonna have to find something to do. unless you get off on being bored out of your mind.”

                     diana  hadnt  seen  him  in  years,  and  the  last  time  she  did  see  him  things  had  gone  bad  fast.  but  she  guessed  it  wasnt  just  bad  then.  but  despite  it  all  she  still  had  good  memories  that  she  held  onto  even  if  she  couldnt  figure  out  her  feelings  about  it  all.  ‘  i  could  say  the  same  for  you  geralt.  ‘  

Maria smiled brightly as he actually responded to her. It was very rare that she backed down from anything, and she had a feeling that a good man was buried underneath that cool exterior. “Oh, Valentine’s Day!” she said, and then she gave a little gasp, her brown eyes widening as she grinned at him. “Geralt, do you like someone?”

wynonna waits only for the bartender to become preoccupied with another patron before she stretched up on her toes and reached over the bar to grab the half-full bottle of bourbon and take a swig straight from it, then set it down between them. “and what are you a fan of, huh?” the teasing jab flows out of her seamlessly. he’s a tough read but she didn’t have much of a problem talking and sharing for both of them. she doesn’t shut up naturally. she doesn’t really shut up at all. “as much fun as getting monster goo in way too many personal crevices is, you’ve got to have some kind of hobby. juggling? soap carving? underwater basket weaving?”

@agwynbleidd​

Seeing him in Woodshore was so out of place of what she’d expected, Marian had hesitated in the doorway. Everything felt out of odds with each other since arriving here, memories of a past life warring with the one she lived now. And Geralt had been part of this one. Marian had never made friends easily, not in the lifestyle her father had expected them to live. How could she trust anyone who would have a metaphorical knife ready if she turned her back? Now she knew that there had been a time that the knives hadn’t been so metaphorical. But Geralt, she trusted, something she offered to only a few. Between two lives, she could count the number of people she trusted on one hand and still have fingers to spare. Getting past her initial shock, she walked up to him, taking the seat next to him. Not looking at him, in case he thought her words were insane, she stole his drink. “If the man who killed me turns up, I’m going to need an alibi for murder.”

    admittedly, he wasn’t even certain if jaskier was going to show. there were no memories, no adventures and trials that tied them together in the bard’s mind. still, geralt had gone ahead with the plan anyhow. not that he had much planned, were he to be completely honest. courting, romance -- these weren’t things a witcher was good at. it wasn’t something any of them should ever entertain considering the risks that came along with it. and yet here he was. dressed down ( as much as he could be ), sword less, white hair tugged back into a hastily made bun. golden eyes peered carefully toward the water, briefly recalling the day jaskier had asked him to the coast. perhaps not quite the same, but maybe this could begin to make up for the horrible things he’d said to jaskier. 

@agwynbleidd​ - geralt & maria

“Geralt!” Maria smiled up at the silent bear of a man who often came into the library. It had taken her quite a while to even learn his name, but it was quite impossible not to recognize him by sight even if you had only seen him once or twice before. He wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy sort, but Maria liked him just the same. “What can I help you with today?” 

                       diana  was  off  in  her  own  little  world,  coming  to  woodshore  had  brought  up  a  lot  of  stuff  that  she  didnt  know  she  forgot.  or  even  the  things  she  tried  to  forget.  finishing  the  last  of  the  cup  of  coffee  she  had  left  before  tossing  the  empty  cup  in  the  trash  can.  diana  turned  the  corner  rather  quickly  without  paying  attention,  walking  right  into  someone.  ‘  my  apologizes  i  wasnt  looking  were i  was  going. ‘  // @agwynbleidd​

    There was no such thing as pure good or pure evil in the world. What people deemed as monsters were merely those they failed to understand and the most dangerous creatures of them all were the ones that hid in plain sight. Renfri had learnt this at a very young age. She supposed Geralt understood it as well. “Well, then thank you for at least trying.” She said with a nod. His next words, however, surprised her. “Your daughter?” She blinked as she raised her brows. The girl in her vision was young, perhaps she wasn’t even born yet at the time. It would’ve made sense if Geralt wasn’t a witcher. “I thought your kind couldn’t procreate.”

@agwynbleidd​ > geralt x wynonna.

“i mean, come on,” her hands fling with just a little too much enthusiasm to emphasize her words. “this ass is top shelf. it was not made for just sitting and drinking.” not that she hadn’t done a lot of that –– or at least, the latter –– when she’d been in purgatory. she might have been responsible for half of shorty’s liquor consumption. she had been here for months and only proceeded to grow more restless with each day that passed. she had never wanted the curse that came with her family, but she had to be back in purgatory. it was the only chance that she had to break it. “all i want is one tiny, itty bitty demon to send back to hell. i’d even settle for a damn vampire. is that so much to ask?”

prancing around a room making half a fool out of himself is one of jaskier’s only true enjoyments in life.

he is, indeed, in his element – the audience is enraptured by him one way or another, whether by hatred or awe, or perhaps even both in some cases. no matter the expression, jaskier is pleased to see it. even visceral loathing is better than going totally unnoticed.

it doesn’t take long for him to make his way over to the bar once he’s had his fill of performing, and he grabs two beers – one for himself, and one for his friend in the corner.

“not that hard of a crowd this evening,” he comments, slipping over to the dark corner. “it’s a nice change of pace from the usual response. you know, last time someone threw a bluetooth speaker directly at my face and told me not to sing over the music. the nerve of some people!”

     though it would never be admitted out loud, a part of geralt had missed all of this. the seemingly endless energy the bard wielded, the voice that never seemed to stop no matter if he were talking or singing. his journeys had become rather quiet once the events on the mountain had occurred. something that he had thought was missed, only to realize the exact opposite. 

    golden hues shifting upwards towards the approaching bard, he gives a small grunt in acknowledgement. nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the technology of this time. geralt couldn’t be certain if that was worse or better. 

“The Butcher of Blaviken.” Renfri echoed the words. She wasn’t going to say any soothing words, tell him he was not. At the end of the day, he was the one to butcher his mean. Renfri didn’t blame him for her own death but the rest… it was all him. “I suppose I should thank you for that but then again, who cares what happens to a body after the soul has abandoned it.” Still, she was glad Stregabor didn’t get to dissect her like she was nothing more than a piece of meat. “I must ask you…” She held up her head, her eyes never leaving him, not even for a moment “Did you find her? The girl in the woods?”

jaskier opens his mouth to refute geralt’s words, but is stopped by the other removing a parchment from his jacket. he waits patiently for the other to place it, and he blinks a few times before looking at geralt. “what an odd question to ask.” he takes the parchment and unfolds it, scrolling through the words with his eyes.

instantaneously, he’s hit with a nauseous feeling, and his face contorts a bit as he fights off the urge to purge the contents of his stomach. the lyrics are simple, very musical, and very his.

i’m weak my love, and i am wanting,

if this is the path i must trudge,

i welcome my sentence, give to you my penance,

garroter, jury, and judge.

a shade comes over his face as he reads that. he gently folds the paper up again and runs his fingers over the creases over and over again, flipping the folded square in his hands in a nervous tic, simply rubbing and rubbing over and over again.

“i don’t,” jaskier responds, and his voice is filled with honesty. “i don’t like them, though.” he passes the square back to geralt between two fingers. “i don’t like them at all.”

     he remembers the first time, hearing that song. though it had been out of another’s mouth, geralt had know to pay attention. for so many years, he had gone through hearing lyric after lyric. in the beginning it had been nothing but an annoyance. for so many years of his life, geralt had been alone. traveling alone, taking what contracts came to him. he hadn’t been the type for a travelling companion until jaskier had waltzed right into his life. 

    and perhaps that was why he had chosen to listen so closely to these lyrics specifically. he had known the bard far longer than most others in his life, it was difficult to imagine he would miss something. yet he clearly had, if the words were anything to go by.

     he’s silent, golden hues carefully watching jaskier. geralt hopes for some amount of recognition. something -- anything. for a moment he thinks maybe something finally clicked with the way the bard was reacting. and then the parchment was being handed back to him. frowning, he reaches out to take it back, that feeling in his chest only tightening further.