@wilczmin // geralt + eira

"Wait --- wait, please, I didn't-----"

It's saying something that Eira gives pause, because she sure did do it. A woman was only as good as her lie, and currently? They won't believe most of her go-to's, seeing as she was caught in the act. Play to their sympathies? Feign illness? There's more men in the crowd than women; batting her eyes seems a safe bet, all things considered.

"Please," she tries again, breathier. Her eyes are wide and dark as a doe's, an innocent being led to the slaughter. Literally. The man gripping her arm doesn't falter, mouth drawn in a cruel, sharp line. Well, she tried. Only maybe she should try harder, because they seem to be leading her to a post, and she knows -- from first hand experience -- that the whip is soon to follow.

( And honestly? This wasn't worth the hassle. That apple had a worm in it, anyway. )

"if you might ever care to pursue a different profession, geralt of rivia, it seems you would make a fine knight-errant," slender hand gestures towards gleaming armor, the corner of her lips lifted ever so slightly, "i would hardly recognize you to be a witcher, lest' i knew better. i suspect more than a few men of noble families harbor resentment to have been so outperformed." a thought which, admittedly, amuses her more than it should, though the sorceress knows better than to ever speak it aloud.

dark gaze flickers over the witcher once more, this time slowly and curiously. so this is anarietta's witcher, the famed geralt of rivia. for a moment, however fleeting, the shard of dread that has lodged itself in her heart seems to abate. "i was hoping we would speak, when you might spare a moment."

her voice lowers, but remains even. "i am sorry you are not here on more pleasant business, witcher, but rather one of utmost urgency."

@wilczmin

@wilczmin asked: she smells distinctly of jasmine, in a way that geralt can’t help but to stop and sniff. he tries not to make himself known, but the sound of rapid sniffing just can’t be helped. he ducks his head, turning his face away to hide his frown. / unprompted · always accepting!

Pale fingers pull the cloak back, revealing her face.

"You're not very handsome to start with. And when you frown like that, no matter how much you try to hide it, you're beyond ugly and downright scary"

She leans against the wall and folds her arms under her chest. She allows a moment of silence to pass. Sometimes Lydia misses the way her telephatic voice sounded like-- confident, cold. Did not crack. Her voice now is the same as before, a mere whisper, ethereal, weak. Frail, like her.

"Are you picking up a trail? Do you feel threatened? Or are you trying to remember, because you just forgot how this ghost used to smell like?"

Another moment of silence, where he sits and she stares.

The sound, steps that guide her to stand in front of him, bending slightly, leaning forward to be at eye level. The sight, a pale woman with bright, expressive green eyes filled with hatred. A woman that should be dead. The smell...

"It's still jasmine, Geralt. Minus the blood."

here comes geralt! to sniff at julian! he’s sat down right next to him now, turning his head and taking in a few good breaths. ❛ what are you wearing ? smells good. ❜

Julian had taken the better part of the morning cleaning up. After a good couple of long days of traveling, he was excited that they had found a town to rest in. One that had a nice inn and a bathhouse, too. They had enough for a few nights at the inn — A nice room with a bed that wasn’t lumpy and uncomfortable and more than a thin blanket to sleep with.

He was happy to wash off the days of sweat and dirt. While he had grown used to the life of traveling with a Witcher, he was always happy to have the ‘simple pleasures.’ It also felt nice to simply scrub the dirt and grime off before soaking in a warm bath for maybe a bit too long. But why not spend as much time as he could like that when who knew how long it would be until the next bathhouse they would come across?

And, well, he hadn’t been keeping track of Geralt. The pair familiar enough with each other that they could go their separate ways for a good couple of hours without worrying. He was sure that the Witcher was simply doing errands or looking at the notice boards for possible jobs.

They were familiar enough, though, that Julian did not seem to react at the approach. Or even react to the sniffing. It was something that he was more than used to — Literal years between them could do that.

“Soap.” Amusement warmed his voice while the response came without thinking. Julian turned his head, pressing a brief kiss of greeting against the Witcher’s mouth. He was smiling into the kiss even before continuing his teasing. “Maybe you’ve heard of it before? You could use some.”

"Whatever they paid you to get rid of the rusalka, I'll pay you double." How exactly, she hadn't quite figured out, but she knew what he was. A witcher. A monster killer. The rusalka wasn't a monster, she only killed those that deserved it. Those that made her what she was. "Please. Or you can take their money and mine if we move her instead."

@wilczmin ❤'d for a teeny tiny starter.

@wilczmin​

He didn’t know why he agreed to this. It was making his stomach turn to have Geralt in his home. Anxiety, he assumed. He’d never felt that way toward Geralt in his life, but this was... this was under special circumstances.

Jaskier had gotten his grading done, so he could afford some time with his bottle of wine. Cheap stuff, for the sake of making it not such a horrendous burden on his coin purse each time he drained a bottle in less than a day. It was his prominent sent nowadays: mediocre wine, parchment, and fresh ink.

Drinking from a small cup, he wasn’t doing much more than that tonight. He wasn’t particularly hungry, he had no will to play, and with his work done he had little to do but wait for the sun to fully go down so he could sleep.

He was just becoming quite the pathetic existence, wasn’t he?

sniffs at regis’ hair. when regis is not looking. he’s being very sneaky about it (not sneaky at all).

@wilczmin

He could hear the subtle sound of Geralt's inhale close to his ear and he smiled to himself, widely so, warmth and fondness crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"How do you find the new blend?" He asked his favourite witcher without raising his head nor stopping his activity, that of grinding plantain leaves into a fine pulp in his mortar. "Sage is in season and thus I've added more of it to my pouch." He hummed, referring of course to the various herbs he wore on his person to mask his vampiric scent which often startled horses and other animals.

‘  my  manners  do  not  need  improving.  ’

Roche continued to peel his gwent cards off the rock underfoot, crouched low. his jaw was set, focused on his task in irritated silence. at geralt's reply, he glanced up incredulously, one hand flicking up in a sharp gesture. ❝i beg to fucking differ. sneaking up on people is rude, for one. && could have ended with my dagger in your stomach. you moron.❞

❝help pick up my cards. wanker.❞

he avoided mentioning how he'd yelped like a dog when geralt had materialised over his shoulder.

"i had it under control." for cahir? :>

"So you did."

Cahir nods stiffly, fighting the instinctual urge to withdraw from Geralt. Speaking to him sometimes feels like when he had attended functions in Vicovaro as a child---not knowing at all what the right thing to say or do was, and worrying constantly that he might offend with the smallest misstep. At least here, Cahir has no further ruination to fear, and the worst Geralt might do to him is attack him.

In any case, it's hard not to be annoyed with Geralt when he falls back into his general insistence on independence, though Cahir understands that Geralt doesn't hate him for nothing. Still, that annoyance makes it easier for Cahir to stand his ground.

"I must apologize for my quick action, then. You only looked like you were stumbling through interactions with these fine people without your ever-present leech," Cahir's nose wrinkles at the thought of Fringilla Vigo, "directing them for you. I only thought you might like assistance escaping the conversation from someone well-versed in southern diplomacy, but I see now that I was wrong. In the future, I'll be sure to leave you alone."

dialogue prompts. / accepting.

" 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 ! " he is a man built upon boy's dimples , broad chested as a hand fits atop the jut of his hip , his shield coming to root in the ground beside him with a heavy and solid plunk . it all aches , all of him . heugh pleasantly surprised to find that he can't get enough of it . " who said you can't teach an old dog new tricks . "

@wilczmin

@wilczmin sent: he’s truly, truly trying not to be too obvious in the way he’s sniffing around kira. but he seriously cannot help it. ❛ kira - ❜ sniff. ❛ are you using something new ? ❜

it was the sound of sniffing that catches her attention, prying her attention from her dagger dipped into a concoction in her cauldron, to the witcher beside her. the sorceress likes to think that she has become accustomed to most of geralt's habits since they had begun traveling together. that being said, the sight of him smelling near her like a bloodhound that was failing to be subtle, still elicited some confusion. she, instinctively, draws back when he begins to sniff around her, a small frown encompassing her face.

at the question, she seems to look at him with a raise of her brow. ❛     you noticed. those witcher senses of yours really are something.      ❜ she hums. kira usually smelled like lavender, but it seems her change had not gone unnoticed after all. ❛      there was this soap i found in the market that was made of rose, and i got curious.      ❜ the witch then clapped her hands together once, as though an idea popped into her mind. ❛      oh, you should try it! go draw a bath.      ❜

a pause, then. ❛      or you could be smelling the wolfsbane. i was working on a new formula this morning while you were gone and ... it did not go well.      ❜ meaning to say: it had exploded ... just a little. and then she had spent nearly an hour scrubbing the soot from the bottom of her cauldron.

Unprompted Asks -Always Accepting!! @wilczmin

Looking over their shoulders, Eivor wanted to make sure their companion was indeed following them - and it would seem Geralt was. Though his appearance may catch them a little off guard - especially when his nose twitches, but the imagine it might be the air. They are indeed curious of his antics, and so they will turn around and stop immediately. Icy azure gaze locked on his golden ones. Watching. Waiting.

drathenia is so different that geralt has no idea where to start sniffing. so he just sort of. stays back several good feet. sniffs in her general direction, leaning to peek around a tree and up at her. ❛ mind coming a little closer ? can’t place one of your scents. it’s bothering me. ❜

BROW ARCHES INQUIRINGLY at the Witcher's odd and somewhat invasive request. But after a moment of consideration, Drathenia doesn't begrudge him. After all, she could taste the scent of weeks' worth of mud, sweat, and blood and various herbs upon his person; it seemed only fair, really.

" Quite bold of you to ask, Witcher. So long as you do not take the opportunity to LOP off my head. . . though I cannot promise the same myself. "

She descends from her towering height to crouch before @wilczmin, a wry smirk tugging the corners of her crimson pout.

" I was merely JESTING, by the way. " Only just.

geralt is trying so hard to learn everything about ardaka in a single sniff, from a good few yards back, since he has no idea if he should be getting so close he’s never seen anything like ardaka before ). he fails. ❛ don’t have my sword drawn … so don’t attack. ❜ sniffsniff.

“Uh—” Judging by the semi-startled expression on his face, he clearly wasn't used to this sort of greeting. At least, not from sapients, certainly not fleshy ones, who seemed to always have the weakest noses.

Ardaka blinked, his arm twitching as he withheld the reflex to hold his arm out, the same way he'd try to let any wild animal get a better scent of him. He resists that, but doesn't resist the urge to lean forward in turn and scent the stranger right back. Every tendril on his nose wiggles as he does.

“Huh. Are you... supposed to smell like that?” The kariian loomed in closer, and sniffed again. “You're hot. Um — objectively. Do you have a fever?”

kat, too lazy to hop on geralt: geralt will look at julian like he’s the prettiest demon he’s ever seen in his life 🥰

Over the years that they had traveled together, Julian had gotten used to reading the slightest shift in the Witcher’s expression. He was able to recognize the muted fondness in some expressions that most people would have considered to be just as stoic and apathetic as Geralt’s typical expression. He was able to see said stoic expression fade away to a genuine look of something soft. A look that Julian still enjoyed far too much considering the fact that the look seemed to be exclusively for the demon. It was the same look that, after glancing toward the other, made him pause for a second. “Careful, Witcher.” He gave a conspiratorial glance around -despite the fact that they were alone on the trail- and leaned in. “People might think that you care about me with a look like that.” Even without the knowledge that they were married, it was obvious that he was joking. / @wilczmin

❛     i didn't even realize i was bleeding.    ❜     . • °  @wilczmin

the wound is fairly deep, and his almost casual aside about it makes tandy roll her eyes. maybe witchers are special, maybe they’re not like everyone else, but that doesn’t mean he should be so careless with himself. there’s no point in voicing this, though, because he’ll only call her a hypocrite ( and he’d be right ). 

“let me see that-” 

instead tandy beckons his arm closer, her fingers lacing together as she concentrates. when she pulls her hands apart, they’re entwined with what looks like a glowing white thread. he may have faster healing than most, but there’s no need to leave the wound gaping. one end of the light-thread sharpens like the point of a needle, and tandy slips it through his skin, back and forth to stitch the cut closed. once the skin knits together on its own, the magical stitches will dissolve as if they were never there. 

“you should be more careful,” her eyes glow white as she looks up at him briefly, “is this the only wound?” and then, after a pause: “are we safe here?”