inbox for aefenglom

[whattaprick]

[ TEXT | VOICE | VIDEO ]

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[atouts]

I've very little interest in a broken wrist, so I'm afraid I'll have to pass.

[ That, at least, is likely less of a surprise. Childermass isn't weak by any means but he's not that, whatever the hell a witcher is. Now that the crowd is dispersing, he'll walk closer to the table and raise his eyebrows a hint as he looks down at Lambert. That tired look isn't too far off from his own...

But he won't mention it. He just shrugs. ]

And I felt like being contrary today.

[ And so here he is. ]

[whattaprick]

Well, your loss. Still, can’t let you come all this way for nothing, so let’s get you that drink. [ Lambert straightens, then nods to the bar, indicating Childermass should follow him in finding a seat at it. He leans over the counter to speak to the bartender, though not before looking to the witch. ]

So, what’s your poison today?

[atouts]

[ Childermass will do just that, trailing along after and grabbing a barstool next to where the witcher ends up. ]

Beer's fine. [ Even if he cared to drink more often, he wouldn't even fathom ordering anything else in a tavern like this one. Beer's going to be cheap, which means its the staple of place serving a rougher crowd. ] Or whatever you get normally, I suppose. I'm not really picky about it.

[whattaprick]

[ That gets him a smirk over the witcher’s shoulder. ]

You don’t want what I usually get. Beer it is, then.

[ At least it makes for less money to spend. It’ll take the bartender a few minutes to get their drinks together, so until then— ]

So, do I get your name now?

[atouts]

[ Well, alright. He won't ask what he usually gets, then, but he'll definitely keep an eye out for what the bartender ends up serving the witcher. ]

Took you long enough to ask, didn't it? [ Childermass comments, totally unhelpful, but he won't leave Lambert's question hanging for long. ] John Childermass.

[whattaprick]

[ Perhaps not that surprisingly, the mix Lambert's ordered for himself has the barkeep reaching up for wicked-looking bottles on the higher shelves. ]

What, were you waiting for me to? [ John Childermass. It's an odd name, which makes for easy remembering. ]

[atouts]

[ Is that alcohol or poison up there? ]

Not really but after running into one another so often, I was beginning to wonder.

[ Not that he ever asked before himself but, well, Childermass may have been of a mind to ignore the witcher to some extent. ]

[whattaprick]

[ Why not both. The bartender comes back over with their drinks soon enough, and Lambert slides his glass over to himself, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he glances over at the magician. ]

Didn't seem like I really needed it. And you already have mine. [ Hanging around spellcaster's is more Geralt's thing than Lambert's, but it's been a funny game to play with himself anyway, half-seriously keeping track of the time between running into Childermass and not. ]

Should we have a toast to celebrate the occasion?

[atouts]

Seems a bit much. [ Toast learning his name? Surely the man's joking. ] Or has no one ever taken you up on a free drink before?

[ Lambert, that's just sad. ]

[whattaprick]

[ Boy, he's rude. Too bad that's Lambert's type of company. The witcher shrugs. ]

It's just a reason to drink. You don't like it, make up one of your own.

[atouts]

To waking up and not being in that wretched city, then.

[ He'll raise his glass to that, even knowing well that the city is likely real. They aren't in it, though, and that's what counts. ]

[whattaprick]

[ That gets a sharp grimace, Lambert raising his glass and slamming back half the cup almost immediately. ]

Had that shitty dream too, huh?

[atouts]

[ Childermass only goes in for about a quarter of his glass but the mood is the same. ]

Didn't we all?

[whattaprick]

Fuck if I know. Didn't exactly go around asking the whole city about it.

[ Lambert sets his glass back down on the counter, claws restlessly tapping on the glass before he forces them to a stop. ]

You're a witch, right? [ It comes out less like a confirmation of a fact he already knows than a challenge. ]

[atouts]

If it falls in line with the last dream, I can only imagine those I met during it would remember it the same.

[ Maybe it's a big assumption to make but he's not usually one to dream about people he barely knows at random. Setting his own glass down, there is a moment where he gives the witcher a faintly amused look, like the answer to that should have been obvious.

No.

He must know. Why ask, then? ]

I am.

[whattaprick]

[ Unshockingly, Lambert's asking only to probe at it like one might at a sore tooth. ]

Didn't like having monsters jumping at your beck and call, then?

[atouts]

[ If that's his goal, he'll only find indifference, as per usual. ]

I could have just as easily arrived here a monster myself, so, no, I've no interest in having them — or anyone else — jumping at my beck and call. At best I would find it embarrassing.

[whattaprick]

[ That just gets a sneer from the witcher, though it’s not directed at Childermass this time. The hand not occupied with aimlessly swirling the remaining alcohol in the glass rubs at one wrist, unconsciously. ]

Good.

[atouts]

[ Good thing for Lambert, Childermass is hard to offend. He's going to take it as making sure he isn't that kind of asshole specifically. ]

Are you worried that there are witches in Aefenglom who would?

[whattaprick]

I know there are witches who would. [ Lambert answers, with certainty, looking up with viper-bright eyes only beginning to bleed into gold at the edges. ]

I head it wasn’t that long ago when Aefenglom first starting getting people Bonded. Makes you wonder what they were doing before.

[atouts]

[ Hm, well, Lambert won't find Childermass about to disagree there. He's no doubt right. ]

Using familiars, I think. [ Similar concept, probably very different outcome. ] Though what they did with monsters before that, I do not know.