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lusi2020-06-08 05:31 pm
decoctions) wrote in lusi2020-06-08 05:31 pm
Entry tags:
(open) wind's howling
● WHO: geralt & all
● WHAT: event open post, closed starters, & monthly catch-all
● WHEN: throughout june
● WHERE: anywhere!
● WARNINGS: sex, aphro, violence
i. wind's howling. (rain)
[ When the rain starts, Geralt is glad he'd had the forethought to weatherproof his little campsite. It comes in starts at first, at times even while the sun is still shining, but when the storm really rolls in, it pours nonstop from the darkened sky. There's so much water all at once that Geralt worries about flooding, but the soil seems to be porous enough, thankfully, to soak up much of the water. Still, it means an uncomfortable day and night of hunkering down to wait out the weather.
Used to living outdoors, Geralt accepts it as an inevitable inconvenience; he's got blankets, a mattress on a tall (if shoddy) bedframe, a fire built in one part of the half-collapsed building he's set up in, and makeshift canvas tarps laid out on the floor and beneath the roof of one of the more intact rooms. Roach, his horse and such a constant in his life that the Augur had apparently thought to bring her here with him, is tethered near the fire to keep her warm and relatively dry.
Out of necessity Geralt ventures out at least once while the rain is heaviest, retrieving a bucket he'd put out to collect clean water for both himself and Roach and pluck up some of the grass that's already started to sprout for her to munch on. If anything could convince him to brave this miserable weather, it's caring for his horse.
But he isn't the only one out. Eyes narrowing to see through the gloom and the water cascading from the sky, Geralt approaches. ]
You trying to catch your death out here?
[ His low growl might be hard to hear over the pounding of rain against the ground, so he gets closer, nodding his head back in the direction of his camp. ]
Come on. Got somewhere warm to sleep, if you want.
ii. after the storm (plants, love darts)
[ There is plenty to be done in the aftermath of the rain. Shelters need to be repaired, supplies need to be gathered, and all of this new growth of flora needs to be investigated. With a pretty extensive knowledge of flowers, plants, root, and berries, he's looking for anything that might be familiar or prove useful, whether to create decoctions, blade oils, simpler poultices, or just to eat. A lot of the plants, especially the flowering ones, are entirely new to him. Given his experiences so far he hadn't exactly expected to find a whole lot he'd recognize, but some of these things are so strange-looking that he has to take his time examining them.
Footsteps nearby make him turn instinctively toward whoever might be drawing closer, and as he moves, so does the plant he'd been looking at. Whether with a cloud of pollen, a spray of nectar, or the shooting of a sharp burr, Geralt stumbles back a step with a snarl. ]
Shit. Careful.
[ It's as much a self-admonishment as it is a warning. He has no idea what these things are capable of. While he's immune to most known poisons and toxins, that doesn't mean he won't have a really bad time of it anyway if something proves to be particularly concentrated.
The effects of these plants are varied, from a simple but fast-acting aphrodisiac dart to a nerve-stimulating pollen that draws pleasure out of even the simplest touches to a nectar that brings out baser instincts. ]
iii. wildcard
( open to robot fights--with planning!--and options for other plants apart from passionfruit. open to gen for all, smut for characters 21+. if you're going for smut and we haven't discussed it already, please pm or leave a comment here so we can iron things out. )
● WHAT: event open post, closed starters, & monthly catch-all
● WHEN: throughout june
● WHERE: anywhere!
● WARNINGS: sex, aphro, violence
i. wind's howling. (rain)
[ When the rain starts, Geralt is glad he'd had the forethought to weatherproof his little campsite. It comes in starts at first, at times even while the sun is still shining, but when the storm really rolls in, it pours nonstop from the darkened sky. There's so much water all at once that Geralt worries about flooding, but the soil seems to be porous enough, thankfully, to soak up much of the water. Still, it means an uncomfortable day and night of hunkering down to wait out the weather.
Used to living outdoors, Geralt accepts it as an inevitable inconvenience; he's got blankets, a mattress on a tall (if shoddy) bedframe, a fire built in one part of the half-collapsed building he's set up in, and makeshift canvas tarps laid out on the floor and beneath the roof of one of the more intact rooms. Roach, his horse and such a constant in his life that the Augur had apparently thought to bring her here with him, is tethered near the fire to keep her warm and relatively dry.
Out of necessity Geralt ventures out at least once while the rain is heaviest, retrieving a bucket he'd put out to collect clean water for both himself and Roach and pluck up some of the grass that's already started to sprout for her to munch on. If anything could convince him to brave this miserable weather, it's caring for his horse.
But he isn't the only one out. Eyes narrowing to see through the gloom and the water cascading from the sky, Geralt approaches. ]
You trying to catch your death out here?
[ His low growl might be hard to hear over the pounding of rain against the ground, so he gets closer, nodding his head back in the direction of his camp. ]
Come on. Got somewhere warm to sleep, if you want.
ii. after the storm (plants, love darts)
[ There is plenty to be done in the aftermath of the rain. Shelters need to be repaired, supplies need to be gathered, and all of this new growth of flora needs to be investigated. With a pretty extensive knowledge of flowers, plants, root, and berries, he's looking for anything that might be familiar or prove useful, whether to create decoctions, blade oils, simpler poultices, or just to eat. A lot of the plants, especially the flowering ones, are entirely new to him. Given his experiences so far he hadn't exactly expected to find a whole lot he'd recognize, but some of these things are so strange-looking that he has to take his time examining them.
Footsteps nearby make him turn instinctively toward whoever might be drawing closer, and as he moves, so does the plant he'd been looking at. Whether with a cloud of pollen, a spray of nectar, or the shooting of a sharp burr, Geralt stumbles back a step with a snarl. ]
Shit. Careful.
[ It's as much a self-admonishment as it is a warning. He has no idea what these things are capable of. While he's immune to most known poisons and toxins, that doesn't mean he won't have a really bad time of it anyway if something proves to be particularly concentrated.
The effects of these plants are varied, from a simple but fast-acting aphrodisiac dart to a nerve-stimulating pollen that draws pleasure out of even the simplest touches to a nectar that brings out baser instincts. ]
iii. wildcard
( open to robot fights--with planning!--and options for other plants apart from passionfruit. open to gen for all, smut for characters 21+. if you're going for smut and we haven't discussed it already, please pm or leave a comment here so we can iron things out. )
no subject
Diana gives the clearing a cursory glance, but she doesn't really take any part of it in. Her eyes are already back on him, and she's reaching for the hilt of her sword just as he does.]
It's perfect.
[This time, she doesn't let him move first. She dashes towards him, heart pounding in her chest, blade raised to slash across his chest.]
no subject
There is no part of him that is holding back now. He couldn't, not if he wanted to go toe to toe with her for even a few blows. The intensity, somehow, has risen from a simmer to a boil, and Geralt's artificially slow heartbeat is now pounding rapidly in his chest.
He can't see an end to this that doesn't involve him on his back in the grass, but he doesn't care. His body thrums with adrenaline, bright and immediate, a need to show her that he's worthy to--to--
To what? ]
no subject
His sword nicks her shirt as she spins away, slicing through the fabric as if it's the finest gauze. Diana puts enough distance between then so she can glance down at the hole, a smile spreading over her lips, both elated and almost savage.
The bottom half of the shirt rips easily as she tears it away, not wanting to give him anything to grab on to (she tells herself), before lunging forward once more. This time, her attacks are more precise, quick slices instead of broad swings, as if she's trying to return the favor.]