wilczmin

[wilczmin]

Constantly obsessed with the concept of a man forced to be a myth. What do you do when every step you take is embedded into the text. Every word you say prose to read. You're part of something bigger than yourself. The narrative tugs you along like water currents. There is no time to rest, to be human. You must be great, you must be legend

#( ;; hashtag nice actually. :( ) #& ‘ vanity is a pitiful defence against difference . * musing .

[wilczmin]

❝ course  i'm  worried  .      [  …  ]      it's  their  rules  or  be  damned  with  you  .      no  more  outlaws  .      no  more  killers  .      now  it's  us  bein'  hunted  .      they  ain't  stoppin'  .      we  went  and  made  our  choices  a long  time  ago  ,      so  .      i  guess  we  gotta  pay  for  our  sins  . ❞

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ independent  ,      selective  ,      private  . 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫  𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧      from  rockstar's      𝘳𝘦𝘥  𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥  𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯  ➁  .

a    study    in    ː      the  reclamation  of  the  self  ,      preservation  of  the  moral  code  in  sedition  ,      and  the  perpetuation  of  circumstantial  change  .

#( ;; i have HAD IT . ) #( ;; hey i've been over here so. hello. )

[wilczmin]

show!regis

#( ;; comes here. posts this. LEAVES. ) #( ;; too bad the show isn't anything like this books LMAO. ) #& ‘ i graduated from the school of the snail . * ooc .

[wilczmin]

do you think you’d actually notice if someone didn’t cast a shadow? or if their limbs were just slightly too long? or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed Something on the street and you just didn’t Notice It

#( ;; yes i did in fact see this and hope on g.eralt. ) #& ‘ vanity is a pitiful defence against difference . * musing .

[wilczmin]

tw3 was my most played game this year, of course, but anyways the way this is a jab at the show is hilarious to me

#( ;; hello over here ! )

[wilczmin]

i am a monster fucker, monster kisser, monster lover, monster cuddler, monster protector, monster hugger, monster romancer, monster admirer, monster devotee, monster supporter

#( ;; came here JUST to put this down. ) #& ‘ vanity is a pitiful defence against difference . * musing .

[wilczmin]

i totally forgot this was on queue since at least june . anyways, once again, happy geralt and yennefer death day <3

happy geralt and yennefer death day <3

#( ;; I'M SADLKGJHSDKGJSDG. ) #& ‘ i graduated from the school of the snail . * ooc .

[wilczmin]

happy geralt and yennefer death day <3

#& ‘ i graduated from the school of the snail . * ooc . #( ;; just wanted to remind everyone that on this day 1268. )

[wilczmin]

THE WITCHER 3: Wild Hunt (2015)

#( ;; why is he so long cat. ) #& ‘ a wolf with bared jaws at his breast . * geralt .

[wilczmin]

Witcher 3 update soon!! 🗡️🗡️

#& ‘ a wolf with bared jaws at his breast . * geralt . #& ‘ love the profit of your neighbour like your own . * art .

[wilczmin]

he  had  not  expected  to  find  anyone  else  settled  in  the  miniature  clearing  .    off  the  beaten  path  ,    such  a  place  was  difficult  to  reach  by  foot  .    in  fact  ,    the  only  reason  he  was  here  was  because  he’d  had  to  venture  from  the  travelled  path  in  search  of  a  bounty  which  ,    as  it  happened  ,    had  not  happened  to  be  around  anymore  .    it  was  still  alive  ,    its  scent  faint  ,    but  had  moved  on  long  past  .    even  several  days  ago  ,    he  would  venture  .

but  when  he’d  reached  this  little  clearing  and  spotted  her  ,    he  paused  by  a  large  tree  and  ended  up  observing  her  for  perhaps  longer  than  he  should  have  .    she  didn’t  seem  a  stranger  of  the  forest  in  scent  ,    though  perhaps  moreso  in  looks  .    she  was  no  witcher  ,    that  much  was  clear  in  her  eyes  and  clothing  .    neither  did  she  seem  as  if  she  couldn’t  handle  herself  out  here  .    then  again        geralt  could  be  terrible  at  first  impressions  sometimes  .

@wolfvirago  .      ‘  don’t  look  at  me  like  that  .  ’

in  silence  ,    the  witcher  watched  her  for  a  few  more  seconds  .    finally  ,    he  moved  ,    stepping  carefully  onto  less  crowded  footing  .    he  didn’t  come  too  close  .        ❛        not  looking  at  you  like  anything  .        ❜

𐎟܆᭝゜ random dialogue 2.0  !                 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 .

#wolfvirago #( ;; g vc: thought there were gonna be w.olves. ) #& ‘ hatred and prejudice will never be eradicated . * viii . #& ‘ answered . * ic .

[wilczmin]

@vairuler  .    ‘  you  can’t  get  rid  of  me  that  easy  .  ’

he  squatted  at  the  edge  of  the  precipice  ,    glancing  down  the  several-story  drop  to  the  bottom  of  the  dilapidated  tower  .    or  he  was  looking  down  .    now  ,    he  looked  at  her  .    she  cut  a  scathing  figure  ,    unsettling  in  the  calm  way  that  she  watched  him  .    oddly  enough  ,    he  felt  that  he  was  in  more  danger  from  being  around  her  than  he  ever  would  be  if  he  were  to  step  off  of  the  floor  and  fall  into  the  abyss  below  .    it  irritated  him  slightly  to  know  that  he  could  very  well  not  have  the  upper  hand  in  this  situation  .    this  strange  environment  was  already  a  blow  enough  to  his  certainty  .    he  needed  no  taunts  to  strike  it  down  any  more  .

feeling  unnerved  ,    the  witcher  drew  away  from  the  edge  ,    practically  crawling  on  all  fours  in  much  the  way  a  wild  animal  might  ,    then  pushing  himself  to  his  feet  again  .    to  make  himself  larger  .    to  dispel  his  nerves  as  best  he  could  .    his  gaze  did  not  leave  her  .        ❛        not  exactly  good  news  to  me  ,        ❜        he  said  ,    measuring  every  syllable  carefully  .        ❛        you  look  like  someone  who’s  going  to  cause  me  some  trouble  .        ❜

𐎟܆᭝゜ random dialogue 2.0  !                 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 .

#vairuler #( ;; forgive him he's just on high alert right now. ) #& ‘ no witcher’s ever died in his own bed . * xi . #& ‘ answered . * ic .

[wilczmin]

❛        that  i  need  to  anticipate  how  much  you’re  going  to  slow  me  down  is  already  far  too  much  effort  than  i  should  afford  otherwise  .    should  you  get  on  my  last  nerve  tomorrow  morning  ,    i  won’t  let  you  forget  it  ,    and  will  make  your  life  a  living  hell  .    all  the  better  if  you  end  up  hungover  .        ❜        geralt  wasn’t  about  to  admit  outwardly  ,    but  dandelion  did  know  him  .    and  pretty  damn  well  ,    at  that  ,    to  know  relatively  accurately  that  he  would  have  already  considered  what  time  he  should  rise  ,    when  he  should  come  out  for  breakfast  ,    and  what  the  longest  amount  of  time  it  might  take  for  him  to  find  dandelion  .    the  village  was  small  ,    which  meant  he  would  only  need  perhaps  a  half  of  an  hour  ,    if  that  .    the  troubadour  wouldn’t  be  difficult  to  drag  out  if  it  came  to  it        though  the  witcher  doubted  it  would  .    for  all  his  determination  ,    dandelion  was  not  the  type  to  defy  him  in  anything  but  the  occasional  harsh  word  .    geralt  was  the  same  right  back  .

that  ,    or  he’d  find  dandelion  running  from  a  house  at  the  break  of  dawn  in  nothing  but  his  knickers  and  his  lute  strung  across  his  shoulder  .    which  seemed  more  likely  ,    the  more  he  thought  about  it  .

still  ,    geralt  aimed  a  glower  at  dandelion  ,    which  quickly  dissipated  again  for  something  more  relaxed  .    the  food  was  brought  not  moments  later  ,    and  he  busied  himself  with  a  quick  bite  .    he  really  was  rather  hungry  .    it  had  become  rather  a  superpower  that  he  could  ignore  his  hunger  until  he  found  something  to  eat  .

❛        regardless  ,        ❜        he  muttered  after  swallowing  down  his  bite  ,        ❛        if  you  should  not  find  someone  else’s  bed  open  to  you  ,    you’ll  know  which  room  we  have  .        ❜        he  would  rather  have  locked  the  door        but  neither  was  he  a  heavy  sleeper  when  he  had  one  ear  out  .        ❛        and  i  expect  that  you  won’t  wake  me  up  on  the  way  in  ,    please  ,    or  else  you’ll  be  asleep  for  longer  than  the  rest  of  the  night  and  come  to  your  senses  when  we’re  in  the  next  province  over  .        ❜

Dandelion, naturally, takes some secret pride in Geralt's actions. They speak far louder than his overly doubtful words; Geralt, he knows, would not spare his own hard-earned coin to feed and room just anyone. Dandelion rather likes the thought that he may very well be the only person in the world with such a consistent privilege. Admittedly, the inverse is also true: he can't think of a single person he's so consistently paid for other than Geralt, and so he gains nothing overall from Geralt's generosity except for the satisfaction of knowing he is its most constant benefactor.

"Yes, yes, alright. I've heard and understood your demands." The troubador brushes his concerns off leisurely, having already settled his lute in his arms and begun to quietly tune the instrument within seconds of sitting down at the table. As in every other village the two of them had stopped in, it was inevitable that Dandelion would attempt to find an opportunity to perform before the night reached its end. "Really, Geralt, you have nothing to worry about. In all likelihood I'll have no choice but to be awake and on the move early in the morning regardless of whether or not you come knocking."

He smiles at Geralt, though the expression borders on a smirk. Really, it isn't as though Dandelion intentionally seeks out the dangerous sort of partner that might get him chased out of town by some scorned lover---it's only that those who are bored of their current arrangements end up being the quickest to agree to a brief change to their usual routines.

He idly plucks a string he has yet to tune, face souring at the discordant note that resounds a little too loudly in their corner of the room.

"Whatever the case, I won't slow you down. Would you like to know why?" Dandelion looks up at Geralt again, taking on an air of strange satisfaction. "Because you've probably already considered my morning habits. You took them into consideration before we even arrived here, and you understand exactly how long it may take me to rouse myself and get going, in the worst possible scenario. If you already know all that, I couldn't slow you down more than you're already anticipating."

#redeulogy #( ;; PREEMPTIVELY irritated. ) #& ‘ neutral does not mean indifferent or insensitive . * iii . #& ‘ thread . * ic .

[wilczmin]

❛        ugh  .        ❜        for  as  much  as  he  was  quite  proud  of  the  young  and  independent  woman  that  she  had  become  ,    he  rather  hated  when  her  independence  was  turned  on  him .    a  betrayal  of  the  highest  degree  ,    he  thought  ,    that  she  thought  she  knew  better  than  him  when  it  came  to  his  sleep  !  he  considered  himself  vastly  more  experienced  ,    with  his  nine  decades  ,    than  a  young  woman  who  knew  not  even  three  .    seventy  years  of  being  on  the  path    he  should  like  to  know  his  body  far  better  ,    and  know  how  far  he  could  push  himself  before  he  reached  the  limit  .    besides  ,    he  had  travelled  with  himself  all  his  life  ,    while  ciri  had  come  and  gone  ,    and  observed  him  only  in  increments  of  time  ,    during  which  either  she  was  too  young  or  had  not  enough  time  at  all  to  learn  how  he  worked  .

with  a  glint  in  his  eye  ,    he  shot  her  and  her  horse  a  look  of  pure  ,    exhausted  humour  .    beside  him  ,    roach  tossed  her  head  to  the  side  ,    dipping  it  as  though  in  sick  agreement  with  ciri  .    which  was  not  amusing  at  all  to  the  old  witcher  ,    whose  hand  rose  to  pat  firmly  at  her  neck  ,    before  he  ,    too  ,    climbed  up  onto  his  saddle  ,    adjusting  himself  so  that  he  would  find  it  harder  to  shut  his  eyes  along  the  ride  there  .    that  would  surely  give  ciri  a  reason  to  brag  .

❛        is  that  worry  i  hear  in  your  voice  ,    or  are  you  so  eager  to  prove  that  you’re  capable  of  handling  yourself  that  you’ve  decided  to  put  that  on  me  ?        ❜        of  course  he  was  tired  .    and  he  would  certainly  like  a  rest  in  the  nearest  town  .    if  he  had  his  way  ,    he  would  sleep  for  a  day  and  a  night  .    though  ciri  was  certainly  a  headstrong  woman  ,    he  appreciated  her  worry  .    even  if  he  did  shake  his  head  for  her  to  see  ,    tug  gently  at  the  reins  ,    and  circle  around  to  bring  roach  next  to  baroness  at  a  steady  walk  .        ❛        maybe  i  am  a  little  tired  .    can  handle  myself  fine  even  when  i  am  ,    though  .    since  it  seems  you  need  reminded  .        ❜

𝙸𝚃 𝙸𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁 𝙾𝙽 𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝚆𝙽, and routine has settled in. as much as it can for a witcher, ever on the move and exposed to wind and weather, dependent on misery to keep oneself afloat. it's a better life, at least, than she used to have, only ever running. now she can choose her path, at least in some ways. she needn't fear the cold any longer, nor the dark sky upon a storm. ciri has known hunger and cold, fatigue and the aches of the road for so long, she can hardly recall a time without them. yet she ought to be careful when she can afford it, ever recalling geralt's voice. think drowners or strigas will go easy on you because you haven't undergone the mutations ?

in this line of work, weakness means death.

she knows him well enough to see it in his face, this constant fatigue only deepened. and although he is hardly a fountain of words, ciri thinks he's been awfully quiet, too. his response, albeit entirely expected, raises her brows.

❛   and when you fall out of the saddle and break your nose ? what then ? shall i be chastised for all eternity by the womanfolk of the continent ?  ❜ it is a tease, little more, hoping at least to make his awful scowl disappear. though in truth he was right, and she about to suggest exactly that. after tightening the strap of her own mare's saddle, ciri moves to check the harness. ❛   he doesn't look fine, does he, baroness ?  ❜ a gloved hand stroking the horse's neck, she makes a point of murmuring, despite being fully aware geralt will have no trouble hearing. ❛   what do you think ? yes, he's being a stubborn idiot, isn't he ?  ❜

holding back a little smile, ciri gives baroness another pat, before moving to her side to push herself up and into the saddle. ❛   my years of apprenticeship are over, geralt, you said it yourself. that means i get to tell you that you're full of shit. we're going to stop by the crossroads to roggeveen, whether you like it or not. i've got to mix new oils anyway, and i'd rather not do it here.  ❜

is it her grandmother's voice, or the voice of authority one ought to adopt when one is a woman doing witcher work ? regardless, her tone is stern, though she watches geralt with some affection in her eyes. she'd rather delay her hunt for a day than risk his overfatigue get any worse.

#crzrl #( ;; g vc: I'M PERFECTLY FINE. ) #( ;; narrator vc: he would find out he wasn't soon enough. ) #& ‘ doubt i’d know how to be anything else . * ix . #& ‘ thread . * ic .

[wilczmin]

❛        oh  ,    no  ,        ❜        he  murmured  ,    even  as  his  shoulders  rolled  to  tame  back  the  shudder  that  threatened  to  run  down  and  up  the  entirety  of  his  spine  ,    ❛  afraid  my  tepid  curiosity  isn’t  about  to  be  satisfied  .    you’ll  have  to  wait  until  my  questions  are  done  before  i  let  you  go  .    ❜  nor  did  he  particularly  want  to  be  ,    far  too  curious  about  this  unnamed  person  with  the  fire  in  her  gaze  and  the  threat  she  carried  in  every  word  .    he  got  the  particular  feeling  that  her  remarks  were  not  just  barks  ,    and  that  her  bite  could  very  much  match  it  all  .    he  found  himself  both  curious  to  know  what  she  could  do  ,    and  hoping  that  he  wouldn’t  be  on  the  receiving  end  of  it  .

he  wasn’t  certain  whether  he  bristled  because  of  her  words  ,    or  because  of  the  static  that  seemed  to  fill  the  air  ,    causing  the  hairs  at  his  arms  ,    even  sleeved  beneath  shirt  and  leathers  as  they  were  ,    to  bristled  almost  painfully  .    the  back  of  his  neck  seemed  to  be  suffering  the  same  fate  .

❛        ‘putting  it  to  rest’  doesn’t  exactly  answer  anything  i’m  wondering  ,        ❜        he  muttered  ,    surreptitiously  pulling  back  .    a  bit  farther  back  ,    he  crouched  ,    bad  leg  extended  more  than  usual  ,    one  hand  rested  against  the  ground  in  front  of  him  to  keep  his  balance  .        ❛        where  was  it  going  ?    what  was  its  purpose  ,    and  what  was  your  purpose  ?        ❜        surely  ,    the  task  was  more  important  than  anything  .    and  surely  ,    he  also  had  no  right  to  know  .

but  he  did  want  to  know  one  thing  most  of  all  .    she  wasn’t  like  a  sorceress  ,    wasn’t  like  a  mage  .    they  kept  their  magic  tame  .    but  hers  was  wild  .        ❛        you’re  not  anyone  or  anything  i’ve  ever  met  .    what  are  you  ?        ❜

that directly contradicts rumors eivor has heard, but she will keep such a thought to herself. a witcher's reputation precedes him whenever he arrives, and that arrival heralds fear, amongst other things. eivor knows this well, too, for when her people's horns echo across misty riverbeds to signal a raid —— well. they know how the story goes : burning villages, stolen treasures, captured livestock, the merciless slaughtering of any who raise up weapons in defense of their property.

the wolf - kissed lurches as he dares creep closer ( though she only budges about an inch or so ), and snarls at him. a wild animal in the shape of a person ... and she would bite and slash, too, if she were not bound so tightly. he doesn't flinch away — but watches with his strange, golden eyes. now that there is a small fire, she can see him better in the pitch of the night. observe him, too, as intensely as he is seeing her in all her captive fury. when the witcher first states his inquiry, eivor only smiles. a wry, pressed grin tight against the raven's scarred lips.

🙶  you ask the same question twice.  🙷 the laugh is a rasp, caught halfway in her throat. 🙶  i already told you ... i was putting it to rest. not all who are slain find peace. you should know this particularly well — slaughterer.  🙷 as they say : birds of a feather flock together. eivor, too, is a killer, so they might know each other intimately well. understand one another. but that also means she carries the same demons as he. a dark bird flaps into the top of the tower, croaking ominously. eivor's bird. sýnin's eyes high above are eivor's eyes as well ... and she watches from her own gaze, too. it is taking all restraint not to reveal even more of her abilities to him ——— but static lightning crackles in her chest, electrifying the ends of her hair.

🙶  is that all? has your tepid curiosity been satisfied? i grow bored with this conversation by the second.  🙷

#notodin #( ;; ONE GOOD ANSWER PLEASE. ) #& ‘ thread . * ic . #& ‘ hatred and prejudice will never be eradicated . * viii .

[wilczmin]

the  witcher  had  dealt  with  a  great  deal  of  impossible  circumstances  in  his  life  .    indeed  ,    even  he  had  returned  from  death  ,    which  he  was  fairly  certain  ,    through  patches  of  memory    (  the  isle  ,    griffin  ,    the  trio  of  vipers  ,    belleteyn  and  the  pyre  )  ,    had  actually  happened  to  him  .    but  lydia  had  suffered  just  as  bloody  a  fate  ,    a  much  longer  time  ago  than  he  had  .    she  should  have  stayed  dead  .

he  certainly  thought  she  should  have  stayed  dead  when  she  grabbed  his  wrist  .    if  it  were  not  her  ,    he  would  have  shifted  his  fingers  and  casted  a  blast  of  aard  on  her  to  get  her  away  .    but  he  was  so  shaken  he  did  nothing  .    only  felt  the  beating  of  her  heart  ,    just  as  strong  as  any  other  living  creature’s  .    at  any  other  moment  ,    he  might  have  felt  some  sort  of  smug  satisfaction  about  where  his  hand  was  :    close  to  a  breast  ,    close  to  what  he  could  have  admired  if  he  didn’t  feel  the  restraint  of  rabidity  trembling  within  her  .

and  it  felt  as  if  it  weren’t  just  toward  the  world  ,    but  toward  him  ,    for  some  odd  reason  .        ❛        you  can’t  be  alive  .        ❜        he  yanked  his  hand  out  of  her  grip  ,    hesitant  .        ❛        how  ?    what  revived  you  ?        ❜

She chuckled and it wasn't a pretty sound. Every note spilled hatred, anger, resentment. Her delicate frame trembled, in a way that spoke of restraining. Of being on the brink of jumping at him. Hands shook, eyes flared with memories she wished she did not have, with the agony of a tale she wished she had not heard.

"Does it matter, witcher?", she finally said, loose strands of brown hair escaping her braid, "Does it CHANGE anything?"

She wanted him dead. Her fingers curled and twitched with the need to close around his neck and see life slipping away. She wanted to inflict pain, oh, as much pain as possible.

Yet she did not act upon it.

"Do you not believe your eyes? Does the memory of my dead body in a hallway CLOUD the idea of this moment being real?", every word was a wave of poison, "Do you remember the dagger stuck inside my heart, or do you remember the smell of jasmine? Do you remember the blood pooled around my CORPSE or do you remember my eyes? Do you believe what you're seeing? What you're smelling? See for youself, Geralt of Rivia."

Without asking, without explaining, without waiting for consent of any kind she knelt beside him and grabbed his hand to guide it, practically smashing his palm against her chest.

Right where her heart was. A beating heart.

"Thump-thump, thump-thump, thump-thump", Lydia mockingly whispered at unison with her loud heartbeat.

#vanbredevoort #( ;; g vc: MMMMM DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON. ) #& ‘ doubt i’d know how to be anything else . * ix . #& ‘ thread . * ic .

[wilczmin]

My Lady…

#( ;; that his favourite momma figure right there. ) #& ‘ you want to delve too deeply . * nenneke . #& ‘ nie samo dobro czyniłem w życiu . * fc .