#witcher verse

"I heard that there's need of a witcher's services in this town." Sephiroth asked the bartender when he stepped up to the counter

"We did but he already took care of the beast." The bartender says and points over at Vesemir. "Don't you witcher's communicate?"

Sephiroth looked over to the table that was pointed to and he laid eyes on the other witcher. A muscular brute looking man, undoubtedly attractive. His gaze lingered a moment before glancing back to the bartender. "I think that is needed, thank you." He says to the bartender and makes his way over to the other witcher.

This witcher was tall and had a more lean figure, his features elegant and flawless. His eyes vibrant teal with slitted pupils like a reptile and long silver hair down to almost his knees. Wearing all black and leather and on his hip wielding two katana style blades, one of steel and one of silver. Around his neck over exposed skin was his witcher pendent. Where Vesemir's was a wolf, Sephiroth's was a serpent.

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Lia was not someone that would help people especially not Aen Elle that wanted nothing to do with her. And yes his apprentice had let her inside, since he obviously didn’t want his mentor to lie half dead on the bed. She looked at him and sighed before, she slapped the cold wet piece of cloth on his forehead.

“Eskel.”

There is a warning in the word, but Beleg didn’t mean it, not if the look in his eyes was an indication. He was more than curious to see where Eskel decided to put his hands next.

After assessing the damage done to him by both his injuries and the poison they forced down his throat and a very heated yelling match between herself and Eskel’s “family”, Vesemir’s demeanor changed. She hadn’t been listening, too busy checking Eskel over, but she heard “protecting”, “cares” and “like a bear” followed by Lambert’s stupid, snide voice. They came to a terse agreement that she would be taking care of Eskel in their room but she would allow the others to check on him. Occasionally. At her discretion. And no more poisons.

Now she was pacing, watching the black tainting of his veins slowly start to fade back to normal and his face beginning to regain its coloring. Her magic had been almost completely drained earlier. Vesemir saw her abilities and put her to work, mending breaks in the wall by holding large chunks of broken-off wall up with magic while Eskel and Lambert used something to adhere it in place. She was unable to heal him fully without harming herself. His injuries were basically healed now save for the more severe bruises, but the old one, Vesemir, said he’d be good as new within just a day’s time. She was doubtful of his assessment, recalling the awful condition his body had been in when she first checked him over. It was a miracle he wasn’t dead.

She was keeping him asleep for now with what little magic reserves she had, unwilling to let him wake either miserable or in pain. But she could sense him fighting it. He was used to her magic. Able to detect it, and she wasn’t willing to use a great deal of influence on his mind. She knew how he felt about her using her magic on him like that. Even during her first meeting, he’d been staunchly against it. So, she withdrew what little magic she was using to try and make him comfortable. Instead, she moved to sit on their bed beside him, brushing her fingers over his scars on his face gently as he stirred.

mystique is not her real name, but she has lived so long that she can’t actually remember her real name. this also has a big effect on her memories and personality.

she can gain some of the ability / skillset of those she mimics

she is so powerful that most magical items can not detect her. also, she is one of the first dopplers, but some say she is a myth because usually dopplers don’t live as long as she has.

and she is so powerful ( and since she’s older than she looks ) she can detect when someone is a doppler , or using magic to disguise their appearance.

she can speak a multitude of languages

poisons don’t kill her , but the stronger ones just make her ill , similar to food poison

while I use multiple fc’s in this verse, my set FC will be Mel.isandre from G.oT. 

Early life: 

His village was dying. His father has not returned for months from his latest trade quest. His mother on her deathbed. A boy of ten, filled with wonder and curiosity yet put into place by the hardships of life too early. 

A fortnight into the plague, a man with bright golden eyes visited their village.