(open) wind's howling

[decoctions]

● 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. )

 

Comments

[luckthis]

[ Clover was quiet but his expression betrayed a skepticism. The slight curl to his lips when the smell of wet horse hit him downwind. He was used to hard environments, yes. Just ones that were too frigid to hold onto the damp, dirty smells of the wilderness.

Only he doesn't feel entirely judgemental. This place was a clean, well lit for what anyone could manage in these conditions. Truly, he was impressed and only followed in step because Geralt seemed to know what he was going.

Clover watches Geralttend to his steed for a moment, keep a respectful and watchful distance by the fire. Only when spoken to does he speak up. ]

It's a strange world. I was hunting monsters.

( ooc: reaches for a yen account )

[decoctions]

[ The camp is cozy and well-kept, at least, as clean as any temporary quarters in a half-destroyed building in the pouring rain could be. It suits Geralt just fine. By the fire, he begins to shed his wet outer layers almost immediately. His gambeson is completely water-logged, so he lays it out to dry. Beneath, his white linen shirt is soaked through as well, though at Clover's answer he pauses before removing it. ]

Yeah? [ Though his expression betrays little, his gold eyes are bright, reflecting the light of the fire as he looks intently across the small room. ] Find anything interesting?

[ He certainly hasn't. It really seems like the only living creatures in this city are the ones brought here by the Augur. ]

(ooc: !!!!! 👀 if you test drive...please let me know! )

[luckthis]

No, that's my problem.

[ Clover out his hands on his hips and almost seemed to sound miffed. The way prized game hunters sound when they discover their preferred species of prey up and went extinct. Sure, he didn't want to find anything like the creatures of Grimm here. Just he didn't want to be idle, either.

There's likewise a lack of hesitation as Clover started to remove his sleeveless jacket and the fitted grey shirt underneath. Taking up the offer of being by a fire in earnest in light of his apparent resilience to the cold. Being damp just wasn't pleasant. ]

My friend, James Ironwood, is organizing a reconnaissance to map out that place. I was doing my own scouting but when they said it was desolate they meant it. Guess the only thing we have to really worry about is what comes in.

[ He pauses and turns back towards Geralt with an easy smile. ]

I'm Clover, by the way.

( ooc: you'll be the first to know )

[decoctions]

[ As Clover talks, Geralt goes back to removing that last layer, pulling the shirt up over his head to lay it beside his gambeson. Though he thinks little of it, the map of scars covering his torso likely speak more to his own experience with hunting monsters than anything else could, with obvious claw and bite marks spanning over great sections of skin. But the witcher is paying close attention to Clover's explanation even more so than his stripping. Rather than commenting immediately, he waits and listens, responding only when Clover offers his name. ]

Geralt.

[ The way he responds is little more than a grunt before he's continuing with more important topics. ]

That's what I've found, too. No monsters, no other humans. Just the ruins of an empty city. Nothing to show for how it got this way.

[luckthis]

[ The first thing Clover noticed was that there wasn't going to be a lot of back and forth. The odd-eyed man seemed more content to listen and process than chime in. Which was a mark in his favor for Clover; it was smart. Caution around newcomers was as important as it was around the crumbling world they all now found themselves on. Being observant could save your life out here when everything was so uncertain.

Clover took note of the man's scars that marred too pale skin in a jigsaw of patterns. The huntsmen in him noted the size of apparent claw and bite marks in an attempt to ascribe Grimm species to them. Nothing added up. This man may not have fought Grimm, but he was a veteran with the body to show for it. With white hair and face full of lines and stubble he clearly managed to also live well beyond the average hunter.

Interesting. ]

Geralt. [ Clover repeated the name with a friendly if neutral expression. ]

Aside from the robots, I guess we're left with ruins and a few dozen people just as lost as we are. Who's your friend? [ Clover nodded towards the horse. ]

[decoctions]

[ Clover doesn't have any such telling scars for Geralt to take note of, but there are other things. Mannerisms, the way he moves, what he chooses to mention. Geralt might share his fire with someone he found caught out in the rain--might even share his bed--but he won't let down his guard. Not really. ]

That's Roach. [ A glance over in her direction to make sure she's eating properly. He didn't brave that downpour for nothing. ] She carries me and my gear back home. Guess the Augur decided to bring her with me.

[ It's been a comfort, honestly, having her around. A little bit of normalcy when everything else is off kilter. Settling down beside the fire with crossed legs, he reaches his hands toward the flame to warm them. Poor circulation means that his fingers are cold more often than not. ]

You hunt monsters where you come from?