[ That Geralt is listening as he's sluicing off gunk is apparent from the way his head's canted, paying close attention, digesting this information. With more care than forktail reporting. If it were forktails around Kaer Morhen, they could just go kill them. ]
Go on.
[ He'll feel less bad about displacing Aefenglom's elite, with housing, after this. ]
Big ears, big eyes -- seemed caught halfway through transforming, like she -- pretty sure it was a she, anyway -- wasn't used to it. Funny feet, too. Anyway, guess they took care of the witches that were running the place. Don't know if she just happened to be around or if she was after them in the first place, but I'm not complaining. Took off before me or anyone else could ask for a name.
[ He crosses his arms, staring at the ceiling. ]
Could've gone better. Could've gone a lot worse, too.
Someone attacked, and - what? You teleported back to the house? You got tea with your captor? Who was trafficking monsters? Who were the prospective buyers? Does the Aefenglom government give a fuck about what happened?
[ Like, go on, dude, he's not asking about the mystery vampire's ass. (Even though unbeknownst to him he's fondled it before. He'll put two and two together later, when Paloma comes over.)
Cranky splish splash. Lambert's investigation process at home must be a nightmare. No wonder he just kills everything unthinkingly. ]
Like I said, the witches — or whoever, guess I’m just assuming since that’s what she said they were — were dead by then, and they didn’t exactly leave a lot of paperwork, or any clue who they were working with. Didn’t really feel like sticking around, either. so we just walked out the door once we figured we weren’t next.
[ He rolls his eyes, then clarifies — ]
Me and the other poor fucks they picked up, that is. I got most of this out of them, after, but they couldn’t tell me much. They just know it happens. When I asked the Coven, all they said was that they’d look into it.
Don’t really expect much, though. The monsters with me were from outside the walls — didn’t have anywhere to go. For all I know, the apothecary I left them at’s selling them for parts now.
[ Not any more conclusive than the state Geralt and everyone else left Dorchacht in. He can always go investigate on his own, or throw a molotov cocktail in a Coven window, or something. For right now, at least Lambert's not dead.
Yeah, well, I'm glad bits of you didn't get left on the other side of a portal.
[ And that's about as tender as it'll ever get with the two of them, at least without alcohol involved. Unless Geralt volunteers any further avenues of conversation, he'll take the lack of further inquiry as his cue to start shuffling to the door to leave the other witcher to his ablutions. ]
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no subject
Go on.
[ He'll feel less bad about displacing Aefenglom's elite, with housing, after this. ]
no subject
[ Lambert shrugs. ]
Big ears, big eyes -- seemed caught halfway through transforming, like she -- pretty sure it was a she, anyway -- wasn't used to it. Funny feet, too. Anyway, guess they took care of the witches that were running the place. Don't know if she just happened to be around or if she was after them in the first place, but I'm not complaining. Took off before me or anyone else could ask for a name.
[ He crosses his arms, staring at the ceiling. ]
Could've gone better. Could've gone a lot worse, too.
no subject
[ Like, go on, dude, he's not asking about the mystery vampire's ass. (Even though unbeknownst to him he's fondled it before. He'll put two and two together later, when Paloma comes over.)
Cranky splish splash. Lambert's investigation process at home must be a nightmare. No wonder he just kills everything unthinkingly. ]
no subject
[ He rolls his eyes, then clarifies — ]
Me and the other poor fucks they picked up, that is. I got most of this out of them, after, but they couldn’t tell me much. They just know it happens. When I asked the Coven, all they said was that they’d look into it.
Don’t really expect much, though. The monsters with me were from outside the walls — didn’t have anywhere to go. For all I know, the apothecary I left them at’s selling them for parts now.
no subject
[ Not any more conclusive than the state Geralt and everyone else left Dorchacht in. He can always go investigate on his own, or throw a molotov cocktail in a Coven window, or something. For right now, at least Lambert's not dead.
Oh, right. ]
Glad you aren't in little pieces in jars.
no subject
Yeah, well, I'm glad bits of you didn't get left on the other side of a portal.
[ And that's about as tender as it'll ever get with the two of them, at least without alcohol involved. Unless Geralt volunteers any further avenues of conversation, he'll take the lack of further inquiry as his cue to start shuffling to the door to leave the other witcher to his ablutions. ]