#zireeael
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「 @zireeael, prompt 」 : ‘ there is absolutely nothing & no one who can stop me. ’ yes she has a god complex. what of it
A FILTER OF LIGHT THROUGH THE TREES, a slice of divine retribution in the curve of his sharp-tongued laughter. meet him on his ground, daughter of chaos, and take his heart : it is her birthright, after all. a generational infliction, for a creature who does not understand lineage, nor anything it entails. the fae, immortal & everlasting, whose downfall is ever the mortality they cannot hope to understand.
( can you feel it? the touch of frost, a flicker of shadow ). time shudders to a quaking halt. his fingers brush her chin, lift her face to the light, and pride blooms like spring across his bared fangs. no matter this chasm-wide difference that separates the heart from the fist, they are the same.
“ yes, look at you. divinity in the making. “ monarch tilts his head, a black hole considering its prey, considering its own hunger. event horizon, holding her within its claw, and in great mercy, releasing with a soft tsk. “ craving violence. dreaming of it. “
he draws back, devoured by his own flickering shadows. even the branches of the trees have stopped their soft wailing, settled into a low thrum. separated from this world, void and star. a limb, a tourniquet.
“ have care. hunger is not discerning, even of its own flesh. “
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geralt joined ciri near the large fire with a tankard in both hands . he had not asked if she wanted it , but he was too old not to know that more was better than less . they had much to catch up on , and , as good fortune would have it , plenty of time to talk . a harrowing blizzard had made the trail too treacherous , and the snow had made the gates too difficult to open . the witchers had decided quickly that there would be no leaving the castle walls these next few nights .
he offered her the drink . ❛ wine straight from the cellars of toussaint . i asked them to put in a good word for me last i was there . ❜ his gaze twinkled with the light of the fire . its warmth only reached so far in kaer morhen’s large chamber , and he was glad to be rid of the chill for the while . ❛ feels good to sit down . ❜
* ━゜ starter call / @zireeael .
#zireeael#( ;; 'hello my dottir pls tell me all your stories.' )#( ;; 'so ur old dad's bones don't wither from boredom. woe.' )#& ‘ ━ starter . * ic .#& ‘ ━ & continues as before : ever coinless . * v : vii .
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zireeael replied to your post: keira is a health nut AND queen of self-care. she...
oh ciri can Not relate … tiny gremlin dirt child
unfortunately keira Knows
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@zireeael said: “DO YOU SEE NO GHOSTS IN ME AT ALL?”
THEIR HORSES GALLOP IN SILENCE MADE MONOTONOUS BY STEADY HOOVES. The sun sets along the horizon, no longer obscured by branches but by the enveloping hilltops. The grass, pale and withered and orange-brown from the change in seasons, blandly lights up. In silence, they set up camp. It is formulaic, in the way that their life should have been together--unseparated and predictable, with each night composed of them together looking out for each other. Geralt makes off with his fishing rod and Ciri makes off with an axe. And it is a funny story, too, because he remembers telling her, once, that she did not need to have a large build to fight Monsters, but the speed to parry and dodge. She did not need to be built like a lumberman. And here she is, too, with an axe in hand, to gather kindling. It is a funny story, too, but he does not smile.
As he fishes, he thinks of the time they’ve had together. His knee aches, indicative of poor weather to come, perhaps. And he thinks of how fables spread, inevitably, of the Witcher and the Witcher Girl. When they arrive in townships, in villages, Geralt is the first to correct: attention, good man, but there is no Witcher Girl here--only my companion, the Witcher. A subtle distinction, but an important one nevertheless. And he thinks, too, of Change. And he frowns. But he leaves it at that.
The bones of the trout, then, help feed the fire. Geralt nearly swallows a bone, but he hacks it up, and they laugh about it afterwards. They laugh, but their smiles quickly disappear, like illusions, like smoke. There is unease in him, perhaps--like relief and trepidation compete for his attention. The fire crackles. The horizon doesn’t look so ugly now, they both think, with the sun having finally set, and the moon now in full display.
Ciri’s words, then, do not change his face, unchangeable, like Stone. But she does not believe him, does not believe it. And a silence, thick, gathers.
“There exist ghosts everywhere, in everyone, Ciri.”
She is a ghost in the same way that he is, he thinks. An apparition, pieces of him vanished along with noble companions. Along with aen hanse. But it does little to mourn their losses repeatedly, like a reopened wound. Like blood that pours and pours, and will not stop pouring, and will leak until he dies one day. Exsanguination of the heart, Geralt thinks, will do no-one any good. And your scars, my girl, he does not tell Ciri, cause me great pain. The scars which he knows not the whole truth about, the scars which he wishes to brush away with the pad of his thumb as he would hold her face, carefully. Ghosts of a little girl, perhaps, made harsh by the World ... the World that he so aggressively sought to protect her from. For naught. They say little about it. He sighs breathlessly.
Geralt finally gets up. His hands, then, from a pouch in their pack, gather a bunch of oats in each palm. He feeds the horses quietly, in silence, in comfort. They are content, these noble companions. Geralt smiles, small. He busies himself before responding to Ciri, before growing gravely quiet. She almost thinks he’ll ignore the question, he’ll completely overlook it, desperate for some semblance of comfort. She would not blame him, either.
With finality, Geralt returns, this time at her side. He sits next to her, on their log bench, and he squeezes her shoulder, carefully, warm. And he speaks very quietly, as though this truth is meant exclusively for her.
“I’m too tired for anything else ... to speculate, to mourn anything else. I see--I see you, and my heart is warmer for it. That is all that matters, Ciri.”
#zireeael#i......... am so hungry for post-stygga interactions i love them i love u for sending me these!!#:-)
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@zireeael said “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Well that’s too bad.” She stands and carries herself over the young girl. “You don’t get to quit just because your bones are weary and your muscles ache. There will come a time when you have to push past the limits of your body and find a way to continue. If you fail to do that then you die.” Thoughts go back to the Battle for Sodden. She could feel her sisters as they died, as they exerted every ounce of chaos they could grab hold of to fight past an impossible front. “Geralt tells me they call you She-Witcher at Kaer Mohren, do you think a Witcher gets to stop just because they’re tired? Do you think a Striga will let him live because he called for a time out to take a nap? You have to push past it. The sooner, the better. You’ll live longer that way.”
#zireeael#❅ ･ﾟ: * my destiny is my own to decide ( thread )#❅ ･ﾟ: * a legacy in the beginning stages ( v. the raven the wolf and the swallow )
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zireeael replied to your post: { I enjoy coming for Kylie’s @geralte throat : ) }
same
{ a depiction of us interacting with her }
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@zireeael said : *hands him a nokia*
geralt , awkwardly holding the nokia in his hand : i’m too old to learn how to use another mobile device .
geralt , tapping on the screen , staring straight at ciri : does this have siri on it .
geralt : i’ve heard these things are like bricks .
hm .
geralt , throwing the phone straight through the wall : well who would’ve thunk . yep . like bricks .
#zireeael#( ;; do not underestimate your father. )#( ;; didn't have siri on it. not good enough. )#& ‘ ━ answered . * ic .#& ‘ ━ your arse hair white too ? * crack .
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[ point + knife ]!!
𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙴 𝙰𝚃 𝙺𝙽𝙸𝙵𝙴 𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃. / violent muse reaction.
There's a certain grace to all wild things, Orin's found over the years. You can spot it in certain people. The lack of hesitation when it comes to violent acts. The quick swing of an axe has a certain grace to it, even if the chipped and blunted edge takes several more to bite through armor to the flesh beneath. It's the same grace she's seen in lean big cats sinking their claws and teeth again and again into their prey. The strike of a serpent hitting its mark, coiling its singular limb 'round and 'round its meal. The grace is thoughtless; the wild thing thinks only of the action and not the perception of it.
In such a way the girl swings her little knife up to rest just above the hollow of Orin's throat. It should startle her, but she'd been watching her for some time.
"Calm, child," the mage murmurs, her hands lifting up, empty. When she smiles her eyeteeth gleam from shadow her hood casts. A warm smile, for all its sharpness. She pushes the hood back and looks the girl in the eye. Wild. Frightened. Furious.
As well she should be.
"I'm not here to hurt you."
#zireeael#a.#i don't actually have a witcher verse cause i only know like#the barest bits i got from playing witcher 3 for 2 hours a;dlsjf and the netflix show which i know is mostly garbage so!#*reads thru several wiki pages* yeah orin is a mage and that's all i got a;sldkfj
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@zireeael.
THE SUN HAS YET TO RISE, and his hands are already busy. He repacks the bedroll, quells the fire, tidies their Pack. It is still dark, but only barely, and he already anticipates Ciri’s tired groaning. It is this, day in and day out. And, at night, he keeps her warm. And they repeat. And, he thinks, he would not have it any other way.
“Ciri,” he nudges, gently. She only stirs, initially. He nudges her more. “Let’s go, Ciri. Come on. Wake up.”
When she frightens, when she wakes abruptly, jolted awake, when she howls into the dead of the Night like a Wolf Cub, he would very much like to hold her. And he does just that. For he, the Witcher, may not be able to reverse time, regrettably, but he may vow to protect her. Like a Wolf does his Wolf Cub, perhaps. He smiles, small.
Yesterday, she did not howl into the Night. He is Thankful.
Her hair is getting long, he thinks. And he ties his own hair back, held back by the black leather band wrapped around his forehead. He won’t subject little Ciri to the same fate. But he knows she will have to cut it soon, regrettably. But it will be for the best. Geralt brushes her hair with an old, bedazzled brush--something they acquired at Ciri’s behest. He brushes it down, smooths it out, before handing over her cloaked jacket. In truth, it mirrors his own: dark and hooded to restrict identification.
And he does not forget to brush Roach’s hair, either. Not with the same brush as Ciri’s, of course. That would be Cruel.
There are some fourteen hours between sunrise and sunset. If they head out now, or soon, they can make that fifteen hours in the day, if they stretch making Camp to Post Sunset. The ride to Kaer Morhen is still, by his calculations, Far. Weeks, at least. And Ciri already groans now. He smiles. And he leaves it at that.
“Come on, Ciri. Come on, Witcher Girl. The Path awaits.”
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♡!!
PRE - ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP MEME .
SEND ME SOME U COWARDS.
send a ♡ and i’ll fill this out for our muses ! i’ll bold what i want for their relationship, italic what i could see and strike out what i don’t .
FRIENDS. childhood friends / work friends / family friends / recently friends / turning antagonistic / turning into something romantic / stable / falling apart ( only because ?? amalthea’s people thought about killing ciri at one point ) / friendship of need / friendship of circumstance / pen - pals or internet friends / coworkers / partners / other
ROMANCE. childhood sweethearts / newly entered / soulmates ( PLATONIC?? ) / skinny love / unrequited from my muses side / unrequited from your muses side / friends with benefits / awkward / fading / turning toxic / toxic and destructive / other .
FAMILIAL BOND. sibling bond / older sibling figure to your muse / younger sibling figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / guardian figure / legal guardian / other .
ENEMIES. dangerous to themselves / dangerous to others / unpredictable / passionate / rivals / petty / developing into a sexual tension / developing into a romantic tension / based off family matters / based of circumstance / based of professional matters / based of misunderstandings or lies / other .
@zireeael
#zireeael#prompts / memes |「 WHY IS A RAVEN LIKE A WRITING DESK? 」#(#OKAY HEAR ME OUT#so unicorns have this weird thing where they help people find their destiny#and amalthea is more curious and adventurous than her people#and ciri and her a kinda similar though ciri has more passion i guess#BUT#maybe amalthea befriended her when she was super young#like used magic to disguise herself as a young girl and became her friend etc#also to keep an eye on her and to learn from her#but you know when ciri finds out the truth on amalthea's home realm#ANGER#cause#u know just another person who lied to her but YOU KNOW that's just an idea c:#either way i don't see amalthea viewing her as an enemy#she'd be worried about her because... she's like the daughter of CHAOS AND DESTRUCTION AN DEATH but like#ciri is good yes good#partners in crime#traversing realms#little horse there too#)
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@zireeael said: ♡ + orin, jon or cybel!
𝙿𝚁𝙴 𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙻𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙳 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙿𝚂 / 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶
orin + ciri
FRIENDS. childhood friends / work friends / family friends / recently friends / turning antagonistic / turning into something romantic / stable / falling apart / friendship of need / friendship of circumstance / pen - pals or internet friends / coworkers / partners / other .
ROMANCE. childhood sweethearts / newly entered / soulmates / skinny love / unrequited from my muses side / unrequited from your muses side / friends with benefits / awkward / fading / turning toxic / toxic and destructive / other .
FAMILIAL BOND. sibling bond / older sibling figure to your muse / younger sibling figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / parental figure from your muse / guardian figure / legal guardian / other .
ENEMIES. dangerous to themselves / dangerous to others / unpredictable / passionate / rivals / petty / developing into a sexual tension / developing into a romantic tension / based off family matters / based of circumstance / based of professional matters / based of misunderstandings or lies / other .
orin + jon
FRIENDS. childhood friends / work friends / family friends / recently friends / turning antagonistic / turning into something romantic / stable / falling apart / friendship of need / friendship of circumstance / pen - pals or internet friends / coworkers / partners / other .
ROMANCE. childhood sweethearts / newly entered / soulmates / skinny love / unrequited from my muses side / unrequited from your muses side / friends with benefits / awkward / fading / turning toxic / toxic and destructive / other .
FAMILIAL BOND. sibling bond / older sibling figure to your muse / younger sibling figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / parental figure from your muse / guardian figure / legal guardian / other .
ENEMIES. dangerous to themselves / dangerous to others / unpredictable / passionate / rivals / petty / developing into a sexual tension / developing into a romantic tension / based off family matters / based of circumstance / based of professional matters / based of misunderstandings or lies / other .
orin + cybel
FRIENDS. childhood friends / work friends / family friends / recently friends / turning antagonistic / turning into something romantic / stable / falling apart / friendship of need / friendship of circumstance / pen - pals or internet friends / coworkers / partners / other .
ROMANCE. childhood sweethearts / newly entered / soulmates / skinny love / unrequited from my muses side / unrequited from your muses side / friends with benefits / awkward / fading / turning toxic / toxic and destructive / other .
FAMILIAL BOND. sibling bond / older sibling figure to your muse / younger sibling figure to your muse / parental figure to your muse / parental figure from your muse / guardian figure / legal guardian / other .
ENEMIES. dangerous to themselves / dangerous to others / unpredictable / passionate / rivals / petty / developing into a sexual tension / developing into a romantic tension / based off family matters / based of circumstance / based of professional matters / based of misunderstandings or lies / other .
#zireeael#i posted this to my main blog first im' s;alskdjfads fml#basically let any of them adopt ciri and support her Power
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@zireeael said “They’ll hate you for this.”
“I don’t care what they’ll think of me. Chances are I’ll never see them again, so what’s the point in trying to please strangers. I have one mission right now, and none of them are involved in it and frankly my mission is probably more important than what all of them will amount to combined.” More important than her time spent wasted serving Aedirn’s Court because her mission involved a special little girl. She crouches down. Hands tug harshly at Ciri’s cloak, pulling the hood over her hair. “My mission is to not only train you, but to make sure you are safe. If that means pissing off a village in the process then so be it.” Because if she had to she’d burn it all down to keep this one little girl safe. Consequences be damned.
#zireeael#❅ ･ﾟ: * my destiny is my own to decide ( thread )#❅ ･ﾟ: * a legacy in the beginning stages ( v. the raven the wolf and the swallow )
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♗!!
icon style meme | ACCEPTING.
HOW COME THIS POOR GIRL IS LITERALLY NEVER SMILIGN
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𝙰𝚂𝙺 : — the dead can sing sent by : @zireeael
HIS PEOPLE HAVE songs for every occasion , can be felt in the air here , some old drum beating through the wind . the dead are not gone , can never be gone while there are those who remember them , those who speak their names & sing of their deeds . ancestors are living things , never far from consciousness , as if they beat down over everything , as if they are ever watching , always present . ( he feels them too , the whispered tones that follow him , fill the hollows in his body & ensure their warrior remembers those who have come before . he hears the voice of his father , the singing of his mother , playing over in his mind ; he could never be anything other than this living memory . )
the dead are still living , still present , and they know it to be true . ❝ do you hear them now ? they’re singing even here , songs of hope that cannot drown out . ❞ in their own languages , strange for anyone outside to hear them , to know what they long for .
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𝙰𝚂𝙺 : — you are the same as anyone else sent by : @zireeael
THE PRICE OF goddesshood has ever been sight , that she sees all , and knows the pain lurking under clouded eyes . to find a child. alone in the woods , to be summoned here by the blooming starlight , as if she is meant to be here . never does undómiel question her duty , question the paths that are laid before her feet , only walks them with trust deep in her heart . to find a child alone in the woods , and see the way darkness reaches clawed hands in , and understand there are place even her hope has not touched . and still , she goes on , determined to shine anyway .
her hand outreached , gentle movement as she comes across the girl , a soft expression over her face . here , her aura blends with the forests , blues and purples of the sky against the green background , something shining even here . ❝ arimelda , there is a bed and hot food for you in imladris , you only have to choose to trust me and my kin . you will be safe with us . ❞
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@zireeael said: WINGS.
ROACH’S MONOTONOUS GALLOP IS STEADY. They ride on together, silence weighing on their shoulders. The setting sun shines through the trees, through cascading tentacles of dark branches. His healing forearm hisses as a coagulating Elixir stitches the blood back together. The pain, too, is stemmed by an anaesthetic Elixir. He sighs breathlessly. Ciri eyes it, eyes him, with care. They say nothing for a long time.
Were Dandelion here, of course, he would add that the tension is so thick that one could cut it with nothing more than a pork sausage.
“Why did you tell me to run? I’m a Witcher now, too. Or I will be.”
“Sometimes it is better to run. Safer. Those men ... well. It is safer to run, Ciri.”
“But I’m a Witcher now, too, Geralt. I can fight.”
He is quiet, then, for a long time.
“I have a story for you, Ciri.”
“Now? It’s not even bedtime, and I was just asking about ...”
“I have a story for you, Ciri.”
“Fine.”
“There once was a bird. A little grey bird. Don’t make that face, Ciri. I know what you’re thinking--a sparrow, let’s say. And this little grey bird, she built a nice, little nest at the very top of her treetop, in the midst of this dark forest. And she wanting nothing more than to protect her eggs from the terrible, dark forest. And so she sat, protecting her eggs, fearing that one day something ill would befall them. But for the longest time she sat, and cared for, and protected her eggs.”
“I’m listening.”
“And, one day, finally, a terrible bird came across this little nest--a hawk. And the hawk took one good look at the sparrow with his terrible eyes and his terrible appetite, and he said to her, ‘Say, Sparrow, aren’t you worried that, one day, something will befall you and, by extent, your little ones?’
“‘No,’ the Sparrow lied. ‘It is an inevitability of Life, and my little ones will be prepared, and I will protect them until they are prepared, you see.’
“‘I see,’ the Hawk said. And he made off. Until, one day, the hawk came back, with his golden beak and his razor-sharp talons, intending full well on attacking the nest--the Sparrow and her eggs. Only to find out that she was gone. She took flight.”
“And?”
“And she and her eggs--she flew away with them. She protected them. And that’s it. Sometimes it is safer to fly, Ciri. That’s all.”
He does not tell her of the countless bodies that he has felled in the name of Protecting. He does not tell her of the times in which he has made mistakes, errors in judgments. He does not tell her of torn-out patches of skin, of hands made raw from staggering Witchers’ Blades against hideous, raw Skin. He does not tell her of preservation needing to take precedence over a desire to Protect, lest that be the end of her ... of him, of them. He does not tell her of allegories--of Birds and Witcher Girls. And Witchers.
It is just a story. Sometimes a story is just a story.
“It’s not a very good story, Geralt.”
He smiles, sadly, then. He does not tell her of the real story. He does not tell her of the story where the Sparrow is eaten by the Hawk, with his golden beak and his razor-sharp talons. He does not tell her of the story where the Sparrow in her stubbornness refuses to leave her Little Ones, and she is punished for it. And her Little Ones are punished, too. He does not tell her of the story where Protection outweighs Preservation with great Cost.
He remembers when Vesemir told him this story. And how it worried Geralt and Little Eskel--how it worried them, and confused them, and how they vowed that, if it came down to it, they would either abandon the eggs or simply fall the Beast. Or the Hawk, in this story. But this was a long, long time ago.
“I know, Ciri. We were seldom told stories, after all.”
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