๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐ญ ๐จ๐ ๐ซ๐ข๐ฏ๐ข๐ (
evil_isevil) wrote in
farsickness2020-03-30 02:56 pm
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Entry tags:
valley o plenty? jury is still out
WHO: Geralt of Rivia
WHEN: April 1st to 5th
WHAT: Daily shit
WHERE: Tavern/Inn, Vasari area, enroute to check out Roselake
WARNINGS: C'mon, this is Geralt we're talking about. Anything goes.
NOTE: Put a location in the header please!
Really, life hasn't been all that bad since arriving. Even if he didn't have either of his swords or a horse to travel around the area with, no one was treating him differently because of who he was and what he did. In fact, some even seemed more inquisitive than uncomfortable when he lingered somewhere where others congregated.
As the weeks move on slowly one into the next, Geralt finally earns enough for a pair of swords, silver and steel, as well as a new horse which, of course, is given the same name as all the other horses he's ever owned. There was even some gold left over for some new leather armour. Yes, the Witcher was feeling far better now about travelling beyond the city limits of Gazin.
When he's not studying his map over a cup of some strong alcohol down in the tavern of the Inn he has a room at, Geralt finds himself in situations where he's "helping". Be it a lady who needs her cart pulled out of a mud slew or an old man who is being pestered by a menacing group of wanderers for money and items of worth. He even found himself rescuing a cat from a tree that was surrounded by three dogs. Had it not been for the devastated girl pleading for his help, the Witcher would have let nature decide the fate of old fat tabby.
If it wasn't raining, Geralt was wandering the area, learning about the bestiary and advertising himself to the remote farms that dotted the countryside, keeping mostly to himself and quietly missing the companionship of a certain bard, though he'd not admit it.
WHEN: April 1st to 5th
WHAT: Daily shit
WHERE: Tavern/Inn, Vasari area, enroute to check out Roselake
WARNINGS: C'mon, this is Geralt we're talking about. Anything goes.
NOTE: Put a location in the header please!
Really, life hasn't been all that bad since arriving. Even if he didn't have either of his swords or a horse to travel around the area with, no one was treating him differently because of who he was and what he did. In fact, some even seemed more inquisitive than uncomfortable when he lingered somewhere where others congregated.
As the weeks move on slowly one into the next, Geralt finally earns enough for a pair of swords, silver and steel, as well as a new horse which, of course, is given the same name as all the other horses he's ever owned. There was even some gold left over for some new leather armour. Yes, the Witcher was feeling far better now about travelling beyond the city limits of Gazin.
When he's not studying his map over a cup of some strong alcohol down in the tavern of the Inn he has a room at, Geralt finds himself in situations where he's "helping". Be it a lady who needs her cart pulled out of a mud slew or an old man who is being pestered by a menacing group of wanderers for money and items of worth. He even found himself rescuing a cat from a tree that was surrounded by three dogs. Had it not been for the devastated girl pleading for his help, the Witcher would have let nature decide the fate of old fat tabby.
If it wasn't raining, Geralt was wandering the area, learning about the bestiary and advertising himself to the remote farms that dotted the countryside, keeping mostly to himself and quietly missing the companionship of a certain bard, though he'd not admit it.
no subject
"You're beautiful," he whispers, lowering again to kiss her slowly and more passionately, taking in the taste of her mouth while desire fills every bit of him.
While one hand keeps his full weight off her, the other roams across both bare breasts and when his pants tighten uncomfortably, he pulls at the string holding them on his hips and whispers again.
"I want to feel you naked against me."
no subject
He calls her beautiful and she blushes, pink colouring her pale skin, and she threads fingers in his hair as he kisses her, slowly and passionately, wanting him so deeply she aches with it. His hand caresses her skin, across her bare breasts, and she sighs into his mouth. Oh, Pelor.
โI want that, too,โ she breathes. And she reaches between them, to undo the fastenings on her own trousers and begin to slip out of them.