->Y.V. Interactions<- - Blog Posts
ofmvoonlight:
It was a surprise but a good one when she placed her hand in his. It belonged there. The two fit like puzzle pieces. And for once he didn’t fear anything. He didn’t fear the unknown and he did not fear the woman before him because he had looked into those eyes so many times before and heard that voice whenever he longed for relief. She was his safety, his home, his anchor, his life. And if only that barrier could fall to the ground and become nothing more than dust, he would finally be free.
With all the other people he had went to bed with and tried to date it felt like he was lying not only to them but to himself. Because no one was like the woman from his dreams, the woman before him. The aching in his heart, the yearning in his soul. Nothing could fill it and nothing could replace it. Geralt always tried to find a name but he was met with nothing. Just laughter, moans and crying.
But then she said her name and something just clicked. Two of the walls fell down and he just looked at her. “You are heaven” was the only thing leaving his parted lips, eyes roaming over that face of her’s. A face he had mapped out within the realm of his mind and his dreams. Why did she feel so familiar? What kind of a relationship did the two of them have?
She was not just a dream. Not just a wish. She was real, she was here and he couldn’t have been happier even if he tried. So the witcher lifted his hand, his finger tips dancing over his cheek. “Why are you so familiar to me? Why does it feel like we have walked alongside one another before?”
⊱ ──────────── {⋆⌘⋆} ──────────── ⊰
There was a warmth that radiated from him, as there always had been. Witchers ran hot, which was quite a nicety for Yennefer, who was seemingly always cold. His hand felt just as she remembered, that was for sure. In better circumstances, she would scold him for not cleaning the dirt under his fingernails, he would huff about it, but would yield to her all the same.
Fuck, and when he spoke, she wanted to kiss him, to press up against him so tightly there was no room left, to the point it would be entirely inappropriate to be in public any longer. She wanted to be entirely inappropriate with him. Yennefer’s eyes went a little glassy. Only Geralt had the ability to do such a thing. “I missed that awkward flirting of yours,” came a low voice. She had shared the sentiment to him more than once before, and she truly meant it.
His next line of questioning made her stomach turn. How was she supposed to explain any of it? I’m familiar because we’ve been tied together for decades. I’m familiar because I’ve helped you time and time again; as you've mapped every inch of me. I’m familiar because we have a daughter. I’m familiar because we love one another, not perfectly, because we are not perfect, but as best we can. She said none of those things. “Why do you think? Don’t you feel there's a possibility that we have? Do you want to know who I am, Geralt— what I am?”
Placing her spare hand atop his, she looked about ready to break. Any bit of Yennefer-typical confidence had drained from her, no longer looking like the biggest person in the room. She steeled herself, trying to muster it back up. “I am something more.”
wickedpotions:
✧･ﾟ ┊ ┊ ┊ DEAN && YENNEFER
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
DEAN NODDED, TAKING IN HER WORDS. the idea of instinct magic always scared him, even though it had existed in his world too. The only time he’d felt at home with it was the brief time he’d worked with Ollivander at the wand shop before he’d left town. Carving while imbuing magic into the wands had been a relief, not something scary. He walked over to one of the displays, eyes roving over it. ❝ I’m not quite sure what I’m looking for exactly. The focus of the piece overall is different forms of magic. Wand work, runes, plant work, potions, the likes. ❞
HE HESTITATED AS HE GAZED OVER A CLEAR-ISH LOOKING CRYSTAL before moving past it. ❝ I suppose I want to find something fairly neutral since I’ll be incorporating other bits of magic as well. All of it will be fairly neutral. ❞ He’d hate if he put it all together and it exploded, especially if it was around kids. ❝ If I’m being honest, this is all new to me. These magic types, but also working in three-dimensional art. ❞
⊱ ──────────── {⋆⌘⋆} ──────────── ⊰
Circling the displays, Yennefer took a mental note of a few things that fit his criteria. Things like this were child’s play to her. This job was exceedingly less challenging than the one she had before. Despite that, she still worked to do her best, fake customer service grin and all. The last thing she needed on her plate right now was her boss telling her off for messing something up.
“Perfectly understandable. Some of it is quite new to me as well. I’m not exactly from around here. And who would I be to disrupt someone’s creative vision?” she settled on two stones, and held them in her hands, extending her arms so that he could see better. “Black tourmaline on the left. Its grounding, relatively neutral, and shouldn’t interfere with anything. On the right, red jasper, which should help with creativity and the like-- if you're one to believe in things like that. And there on the shelf are clear quartz and selenite, quite basic, but excellent at amplifying any other sort of magic you have going.”
shallowmagics:
— *•̩̩͙ c. & yennefer wilczynski •̩̩͙* —
━━━━━━━━━ *•̩̩͙ ♔ •̩̩͙* ━━━━━━━━━
At first, Ciri had been… hesitant about trusting others. In the span of a single night everyone she had ever loved was stolen from her. All that had been afforded to her was fear and the knowledge that some mysterious man would help her. Then she had Dara. Then came Geralt, Vesemir, Lambert, Yennefer. People she loved and in turn, loved her.
She shut her eyes as Yenn kissed her forehead, wanting to stay in the moment forever. Calanthe had loved her, of that Ciri had no doubts about, but not like Yenn. Calanthe was blood and fire, who gave hugs hard enough to bruise only when Ciri was truly in need. Yennefer was soft touches and let Ciri hold her close, didn’t comment when tears would eventually bead upon her lashes.
A quick nod, going to collect her gym bag from where it was forgotten on the ground. She didn’t want to stray too far from Yennefer, not when she had just gotten her mother back. “There’s a woman- Tano- she owns the-” Not an inn, what was the equivalent here? “-I don’t know what it’s called. It’s where they put people who don’t have anywhere else to go. I’ve been there about two weeks.”
She readjusted her bag. “If you have the room for it.”
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It was an extraordinary relief, having Ciri back. It felt like fitting the final piece of a puzzle in place. Yennefer watched her as she went for her bag, taking in every little difference from the last time she had seen her. The mage had lived an extraordinarily long time, and had seen many beauties in her day, but nobody rivalled the radiance of her Ciri. Nobody ever could.
“If I have room for it? What a ridiculous thing to say. Did you leave your sense back on The Continent, cub?” Her words were light, teasing, in a way she hadn’t spoken for a long time. She held out her hand for Ciri to take, “Come, lets get your things from the not-an-inn, then you can settle in with me. I happen to have an empty guest bedroom which I think will work perfectly.”
There was very little Yennefer wouldn’t do for Ciri. As any mother, she had made her fair share of mistakes in the past, but she worked to ensure she wouldn’t slip up with her ever again. “You’ve been well, I hope?”
ofmvoonlight:
His heart sank, his walls did as well. And that was the weirdest part of it all because they never fell. Not even around Louisa. No because around her those walls just went higher. But the purple eyed beauty in front of him made everything shatter and fall. How could this be happening? And why didn’t he know who she was when she clearly looked at him in such a way? Strangers did not look at each other like that. And that made him feel like the worst person on this planet. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Why? He did not know. But he felt bound to her. Like it was his duty to keep her heart safe.
He should be asking the questions but instead all he could give was confused grunts and silence. He didn’t know what was going on and he didn’t know what criminal offense he had done to deserve such a bad case of karma. But whatever he had done in his past life must have been wretched. That was the only explaination as to why he felt so stuck between what was real and what was fake.
“I-” he whispered and then reached his hand out, palm up as a way to invite her to hold him. “I am so sorry” now Geralt was never one to apologize. He wasn’t proud by any means but he was stubborn. When he felt like he had done nothing wrong, he would stand behind that even if it meant he would lose people. But around her he felt the need. What was happening to her was unfair, she did not deserve it.
Whatever that may be.
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For a brief moment, Yennefer wanted to scream at him, as if she would somehow knock his memory back into him by doing so. They had their fair share of shouting matches in the past– putting a hotheaded mage and a stubborn witcher in close proximity was bound to lead to such things. She knew this was different from all of those occasions, though, because at the end of those they would make up and move on, but this was… something else entirely.
He had amnesia once before. That had been difficult (it would have been easier if a certain red haired sorceress hadn’t gotten involved, but she mattered little now). Yennefer was not there for the bulk of the experience, which made the idea of dealing with it now– all on her own– all the more nauseating. Seeing him like this was undoubtedly strange. He was so… quiet. It was like a brick wall laid between them.
“Sorry,” Yennefer repeated. Her voice had gone quiet, level, trying to figure out what to do. She stared at the hand outstretched to her. Finally pulling her hand from her coat pocket, she flexed her fingers to dispel the remnants of Chaos; setting her jaw tight, she placed her hand atop his. The gesture was tense at first, as if she was reaching out to touch a hot stove, as if touching him could burn her. Her arm relaxed a bit a moment later. Her hands were clearly that of a mage, fingers long and delicate, a few calluses along the sides of them (something she paid close mind to, often using a carefully crafted hand cream which smelled of lilac and gooseberries).
Meeting his eyes at last, she sighed at the sight of him. No way forward was clear. She couldn't fix this. She hated not being able to fix things, especially when it came to Geralt. “Fuck,” she whispered, before speaking normally once again. “What am I going to do with you, Geralt of Rivia? What in the world am I supposed to do with you?” the woman cleared her throat. “You need something to call me by. Yennefer, that’s my name.”
⌘Yennefer and Jaskier⌘
@redainianbard
Yennefer was so over this week. With the whole Geralt situation pressing down on her like a lead weight, she was sick and tired of this stupid town, and wanted nothing more than to be able to make her escape. The nature of the town prevented her, and she hated the place for it.
So she did the only thing she could manage, and kept going through the motions. Work, home, sleep, repeat. In her down time, she would do her best to make herself happy with the little things: watch the television, spend time with Ciri, and occasionally go for a drink when the girl was busy for the evening.
It was one of those nights, she entered the local pub shortly after she had gotten off of work. A drink would do wonders for her aching heart. She had only been in the place long enough to order herself some sort of fruity concoction when she heard him. Singing filled the place. There was no mistaking who the owner was. She had dealt with it for decades now. Turning on her heel, black skirt flowing out around her knees, she looked round for him.
Surely enough, he was making his way round the tables. She wanted to hate the display, she wanted to feel annoyed at his appearance, yet the only thing she felt was relief. If nothing else was normal, she could always count on Jaskier to be, well, himself. She met his eyes while he was giving his little performance, and offered a little smile. Yennefer approached him as soon as he finished; smirking, she raised an eyebrow.
“Bard,” her voice was much less biting than it usually was, almost, nearly, affectionate.
ofmvoonlight:
Love came and went, friendships ended and life was spilled. Guts, gore, broken hearts. That was the life Geralt of Rivia was used to. But Geralt from Sallow was a different story. Here he was nothing more than a farmer. His long milk white hair and amber eyes was the two things that made him stand out from the rest. It was like he had a target on his back and the most frustrating part? He didn't even know why he looked this way. He also didn't know why the darkness felt like home and why his hand felt so empty. Was he used to holding a heavy object? And why? Why did it feel like he was an imposter walking around pretending to be an ordinary man when he was nothing of the sort?
His dreams only made his confusion ten times worse. Because every single night he heard the same voices, the same names and he saw the same movements. But he never saw their faces. Yet it felt like he was home for the first time in years. The happiest time he experienced was whenever he closed his eyes and fell into a fast and deep slumber. That was when his happiness washed over him. Relief was also an emotion that took over his senses whenever he heard those voices again.
A woman, a man and a young girl. Every time he asked for their names, he heard mumbles. And every single time he tried to reach out he was met with nothing. Now Geralt wasn't someone who liked to be this confused and left in the dark fumbling to find a light source. He wanted to just yell at the world for making him this vulnerable.
It made his love life worse as well. No one compared to the woman of his dreams. He tried with Louisa, he really did. But from the get go it felt like she was deceiving him. Used him. But what for? It actually hurt him to not feel appreciated or wanted. He wasn't someone who ran after people begging to be loved. He was usually content with being left alone in the cold.
He woke up from his thoughts when he felt someone collide with him. "Maybe you should be the one watching where you are going?" he suggested. But when he heard her voice, her sweet voice, his heart soared. It's her. The woman from his dreams. But how? About to ask who she was and how she knew his name, he felt his body tense up.
Letting out a low grunt, he placed his hands on her hips as a way to make some distance between them. "I do not know who you are. I apologize"
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Hands flexed and clenched to fists, Yennefer pulled them back hard and fast, not for anger at him specifically, but for fear of having an outburst. Staggering backwards a step, she felt the Chaos sparking between her fingertips, it was a rushing flood through her veins. Tiny flecks of purple light flickered on her hands, which she quickly jammed into the pockets of her coat.
She, of course, had heard stories about what this town could do, but she had never considered what she would do if it affected her. At that moment she truly hated this place; a distaste was quickly morphing into loathing. It made a home in the back of her throat, making her feel sick. The choker round her neck felt like it was tightening with every second.
The next thought to cross her mind was Ciri. How would she take this? Likely, not well. Geralt meant as much to her as he did to Yennefer. How was she supposed to look her daughter in the eyes and say that he didn’t know who she was. The idea of it only made her feel worse.
“You mean… Please tell me you’re joking. Tell me you’re just mad at me and playing some stupid game, because I cant…” violet eyes boring into him, she seemed desperate, and Yennefer was very rarely a desperate person “Geralt. Please.”
⌘Yennefer + Geralt ⌘
for my love @ofmvoonlight
To say life had been hectic as of late would be an understatement. All of the previous spare time Yennefer had swiftly got taken up upon the appearance of Ciri— not that she was complaining about that. There was something about it that felt innately right, but it kept her much busier than she had been.
Though today, Ciri was at work, and Yennefer had the day all to herself. Her plan was simply to go out and see where the day took her, so after dressing in her ever-so-typical way, the mage made her way into town. It was cold out, but the sun was shining at the very least and her woolen coat kept her warm enough. The day was proving to be uneventful, nothing too out of the ordinary for this place.
Nothing, until she had left the library. Yenna had been distracted, frigid fingers already carding through one of the massive books she had checked out. Being caught up in the prose led her to ramming into someone much too hard, book slipping from her grasp. “Excuse me,” she sneered as she bent down to retrieve the book, speaking as if it hadn't been her fault to begin with. “Maybe you should watch where-- Geralt”
His name was reverie on her lips, as it always had been. The sight of him was overwhelming. Yennefer felt her heart might beat out of her chest any second.
“Geralt, witcher, what in Meletele’s name are you doing here?Oh I'm so delighted to see you.” Arms looped around his neck, a difficult task due to the difference in height between them, she was beaming. Yennefer was pulling him into a kiss, yet stopped an inch or two from his face. Something felt wrong. Something was out of place, and it wasn't on her end. “Are you alright, Geralt? You’re stiff as a board.”
shallowmagics:
— *•̩̩͙ c. & yennefer wilczynski •̩̩͙* —
━━━━━━━━━ *•̩̩͙ ♔ •̩̩͙* ━━━━━━━━━
Ciri pressed herself further into Yennefer, as if a simple embrace would be enough to quiet her mind, make her forget about being in a strange land with no one from home around here. Well, close to no one. Having Yennefer here with her was one of the best possible outcomes. She hadn’t allowed herself to hope her family would come, not with the aftermath of Cintra still fresh in her mind. That loneliness was still carved deep into her chest.
Yennefer being here, with her, stoked that hope within her. Ciri wouldn’t wish for more, she didn’t know if she could allow herself to wish for more of her family to come. It was dangerous. That one, terrible night had taught her so.
Ciri blinked back tears as she stared up at Yennefer, a watery smile gracing her face. “I thought I was going to be alone.” Again. Ciri felt her unspoken words would be too harsh, would cause this fragile moment between the two to break. “I can’t remember a thing after leaving Kaer Mohren after I-“ Destroyed it, killed the men I believed to be my family. Disappointed Geralt even though he would never say it. “-after everything. I know something happened, I know it. I just can’t remember.”
She didn’t deserve Yennefer being so understanding, so kind to her. Not after Yenn had to help clean up Ciri’s mess while she had laid there shivering, exhaustion and revulsion fighting for the dominant emotion in her body.
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There were very few people Yennefer truly cared about. When she was a girl, she had locked her heart safely away, and kept it far from reach. It would protect her from getting hurt; it would keep her safe. Over the years, slowly, surely, she had built herself a little family. Her little family. To have even part of it back... she couldn’t be more grateful.
Maybe it wasn’t the exact Ciri she had been waiting for, but it was her daughter nevertheless, and that was all that she cared about. She cupped the girl’s face in her hand, gently swiping her thumb over her cheek. A wobbly smile on her face, Yennefer placed a kiss in the center of her forehead.
“You’re not alone, now. I'm here, and I wont leave you. Not ever,” she said softly, with a reassuring look. “Don’t fret over any of that my dear. Its past, and far away. No need to dwell on it for the time being.”
She knew what Ciri meant, of course, but Yennefer would never hold anything over Ciri. Exhaling, Yen adjusted Ciri’s jacket in the way that only doting mothers can manage. “You should go get your bag. It won’t do you good to lose your things. Where are you staying? Do you- do you need some place to stay? I’d rather not be apart from you anymore.”
shallowmagics:
— *•̩̩͙ c. & yennefer wilczynski •̩̩͙* —
Earth was different. Terrifying, if Cirilla would ever allow herself to voice her innermost thoughts. Never would she allow it. Her grandmother had taught her better. Geralt had taught her better. She found a job, trained at the gym, and kept to herself. The people at Bevin & Cecil’s had taken pity on her, the girl clearly not from this land. She thought her father would be proud of her for keeping her head down- mostly- and not running headlong into the forest with a dagger in hand.
Ciri shouldered her gym bag, attempting to get back to her temporary ‘home’ before the snow started to fall in sheets. Now, the flakes only dusted her lashes. She paused at a corner to readjust the bag again, gaze sweeping over the cobblestone road to land on someone she thought would never be here with.
“Yennefer?” Her voice came out as a hoarse whisper, Ciri blinking again as if Yenn would disappear if she looked for too long. When she stayed, Ciri broke into a run, her gym bag falling to the ground.
“Mother!” The last half of the word was cut off by Ciri throwing herself at Yennefer, the girl’s face buried in the other’s shoulder.
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Yennefer could handle anything. She was powerful, and everyone on the Continent knew it. Yet, this wasn't the Continent, and she had to adapt. She had gotten a flat, a job, and a silly little routine to keep her mind off of Geralt and Ciri and every other damned thing. On her walk home from work, she would often find herself nearly ready to kill to get them back. Her mind would do twists and turns trying to think of something, anything, that could help her track down their missing daughter.
For a moment, she thought she was starting to lose it, as she could've sworn that she could see an apparition of the girl she so longed for. But it wasn't an apparition. It had to be her. For the gods’ sake, it was. Yennefer stopped walking, face breaking out into the biggest grin this town had ever seen.
“Ciri!” her name was a gasp, as she wrapped her daughter up in her arms. “Daughter,” she crooned into her mess of blonde hair, before pulling back to check her over, studying her face and person carefully. “Look at you! You’ve grown up on me, swallow. Positively gorgeous,” Yennefer was bubbling as she pulled Ciri into another embrace.
The Horsewoman of War. That's what they called her. A beautiful phantom in the night, flanked by her black kestrels, who left misfortune in her wake. A dangerous, fatal woman not to be reckoned with. The mage was a deadly force, known far and wide in her realm. Yet there she was, embracing a young woman with every fleck of strength in her body, and had they not been in public, Yennefer may have started to cry.
wickedpotions:
✧･ﾟ ┊ ┊ ┊ DEAN && YENNEFER
┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊
IN LONDON, DEAN HADN’T TRUSTED METAPHYSICAL SHOPS. aaliyah had loved them and often dragged dean to them, even when he insisted the ❛ magic ❜ they claimed was nothing but a hoax. The Bubbling Cauldron in town was different, though. Aaliyah would have loved it, and Dean actually believed at least some of the things in the shop held power. There were different kinds of magic in this town, ones he’d never seen before. So it wouldn’t be unbelievable if these things held power he didn’t sense in his home.
HE WASN’T HERE FOR MAGIC, THOUGH. per say. The after-school program he worked for had asked him if he wanted to participate in the teacher showcase, and he’d said yes. He could’ve done something easy, like a painting or a piece in charcoal. But he wanted to push himself outside of his comfort zone, and he had the perfect image in his head. It was a 3-D piece honoring different types of magic here in town. His magic, through words and wands. The magic of plants, of the moon, of gems. Potions, runes. Everything and anything.
HE WAS LOST EXAMINING THE CRYSTALS WHEN THE WORKER SPOKE. he jumped a bit, having not expected them. ❝ Kind of? I’m working on an art piece and I wanted to include some crystals. My sister has told me a million times what each of them do and stand for, but I just can’t keep track of them. Are you familiar with any? ❞
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Yennefer always had an excellent memory. She had used that to her advantage while studying her craft. When she had come to this realm, she had nearly immediately started her research on the magical elements this world contained. By no means was she an expert, but she would get there, and she knew enough to get by in the meantime.
“I am indeed. What exactly are you trying to incorporate in your piece? An emotion? An energy? Something beautiful?” She raised an eyebrow as she studied him. “My first suggestion would be to start with the one that draws you in first; in my opinion that’s usually the stone that wants to be used, but it's just a suggestion.
With an elegant wave of her hand, she gestured towards two stands in the shop, full with baskets of different crystals and stones. “There's a display here, and another there. Whatever you find appealing, I’d be happy to describe for you.”
wickedpotions:
✧･ﾟ ┊ ┊ ┊ ZSASZ && YENNEFER
*̩̩̥͙ -•̩̩͙-ˏˋ⋆ ⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙- *̩̩̥͙
THE WOMAN WAS DRESSED INTERESTINGLY, TO SAY THE LEAST. not that zsasz had any place to talk with his nearly all-leather get up. Hers was certainly more fitting for a Welsh countryside town than his own, but he’d never been one to mind standing out in a crowd. In fact, it usually was quite the opposite. Zsasz knew how to use shadows and darkness to his aid, but also when to draw the eye of everyone around him.
HE PUT THE BOX OF GOOD ON THE COUNTER, raising a brow bone at kai who seemed to look up at him in question. He sighed. He supposed he and Oswald were spoiling the dragon a bit too much. ❝ Don’t you have a register to guard? ❞ Kai let out a snort, but did turn and head over to the small, purple pillow beside the cash register. With that, Zsasz turned his attention back to the woman.
HE TOOK THE KNIFE, CAREFULLY MOVING IT TO NOT CUT EITHER OF THEM. ❝ yes well, i suppose the knives either moved in transport or my shop assistant was messing around in the back and hoped i wouldn’t notice. Either way, thank you. If you feel I need to prove myself proficient at weapons, I’m always happy to give a demonstration. ❞ He spun the knife in his hand, getting it into a more comfortable grip. Quickly, he took aim at the board he had across the store for just this and sent the knife flying. It landed in the bullseye with a thunk. He gave a flourish of a half bow. ❝ Now, is there anything I can assist you with? ❞
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Yennefer couldn’t help but to watch the dragon retreat to its spot beside the register. It was a mistake in the end, as the sight once again took her mind elsewhere. She was quickly brought back to the moment when he spoke once again.
She wasn’t sure if it had been the intention, but she wasn't intimidated or startled. In fact, she was far from it. For the first time since she had arrived in Sallow Hills, she was hit with a startling amount of familiarity. The way he dressed, the dramatics, the set up and contents of the shop: they reminded her of home. She could’ve sworn something identical had happened with Lambert when she was visiting Kaer Morhen once, but she didn’t want to dwell on it. She had business to do.
“Impressive. Though, I was making a joke.” A smirk grew on her face as she met his eyes, and there was a quirk to her brow in sudden intrigue of the man before her. Yennefer nonchalantly crossed her arms in front of her as she looked between him and the blade now protruding from the wall. “I’m new here. I don’t have any... guarantee of personal protection, and I should like to remedy that. What would you recommend?”
⌘Yennefer Open Starter⌘
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Earth was a strange place. That was one thing Yennefer knew for sure. The planet did have its upsides, yet many of the downsides were… frustrating, to say the least. The largest of which arose from her employment situation. Yennefer had never been good with authority. Nobody got to have the satisfaction of telling her what to do. Even when she seemed to release control to someone else, it was a façade she had deceived them into believing. Her chronic insubordination was why she had gone freelance; she got to be her own boss, and answered to nobody save herself. Yet that wasn’t an option here. She couldn’t trade magical favours for some coin, meaning she had no income.
Doing the sensible thing, she got an actual job. She could handle customers just fine, and the little metaphysical shop suited her quite well, so it all ended up falling into place. It was easy enough, and she could card through some of the ancient looking books found there in her down time. She was sitting near the register doing just that when she heard the door. By the time she had gotten to the front, the person seemed already intrigued by something. Yennefer gave her very best customer service smile, “Can I help you find something?”
wickedpotions:
✧･ﾟ ┊ ┊ ┊ ZSASZ OPEN STARTER
ZSASZ WAS WHISTLING AS HE MOVED THROUG THE STORAGE ROOM, COLLECTING ITEMS THAT NEEDED TO BE MOVED TO THE FRONT. he only had a month left of florence tenners following him around. A month and he could go back on his weekly (if not daily) Revenant hunts without asking Armes (the horrible woman) for permission. Tenners had to be excited too. Him and his partner had to be tired of trading off from watching him. They’d gotten lazy the last month and change, as well. Holidays did that for people.
HE GRABBED A BOX OF HUNTING KNIVES, lugging it out to the main area of the shop. Kai, his dragon, excitedly jumped off the counter and twisted around his ankles. Zsasz titled, just slightly, to avoid Kai, and one of the knives fell out of the box. ❝Mind grabbing that? I’d rather not put down this box until I’m at the knife display,❞ he called out to the person he’d clocked by the small clothing rack.
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Yennefer was surprisingly used to being thrown headfirst into lands that were wholly unfamiliar and not her own. That wasn’t the issue. The issue stemmed from her isolation from the familiar. This world, Earth, was too different from what she knew for her to feel comfortable in being alone there. With no assurance that her Chaos would continue to work as it should, and no head over heels witcher ready to hop to her defense at a moment's notice, she knew that secondary protection was her best bet.
Approaching Hills Hunting, she tightened the belt of her black woolen coat as if that would somehow serve to warm her up. Though she was dressed in layers of beautifully made black and white pieces of clothing, the chill in the air was still seeping into her bones. Luckily for her, the interior of the shop was much warmer than the outdoors.
She had only been in the shop for a moment before she watched as the shopkeeper entered from the back. She watched as a blade fell from the box he was carrying, and gave a little nod at the request. It wasn’t until she was halfway down that she registered what it was that had caused him to stumble. A dragon!? A fucking dragon. One that looked all too similar to– no. She would think about him later. Not now. This town would be the death of her aching heart.
She tore her eyes away from the little beast, and walked the knife over to the display, holding it out to him in a way that wouldn’t slice either of them in the passing off. “You know, it's not particularly professional for shop owners to have such a loose grip on weaponry when customers are present.”
yennefer’s intro
I think I just saw Yennefer Wilczynski (she/they, cis woman, 96). she’s a canon character from the witcher. have you heard she remembers everything from her previous life? she appeared here in may 2021 after attempting to track down her daughter, ciri, and hold off the wild hunt. now she’s working as a customer assistant at the bubbling cauldron. still, she does have that overly confident, bitten lips, mess of dark curls, lilac & gooseberries vibe about her.
[anya chalotra. more information at bottom of post]
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“Remember-- magic is Chaos, art, and science. It is a curse, a blessing, and progress. It all depends on who uses magic, how they use it, and to what purpose. And magic is everywhere. All around us.”
--The Witcher, Blood of the Elves
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Can you tell me your name?
“Yennefer of- ahem Wilczynski.
Where are you from?
“Vengerberg, in Aedirn.
What’s the last thing you remember?
“Last I remember I was carding through some dingy library looking for a certain... important piece of information.
We have a history of memory loss here. Do you feel as if you may be missing some memories?
“No. No, everything seems to be intact
Have you found a job here in Sallow Hills?
“I did indeed. I work at the Bubbling Cauldron. Its not what I would prefer, but it’ll do for the time being.
What was the strangest thing you saw before arriving here?
“Once I saw a witcher weaving flowers into a young girl’s hair. That's quite a strange sight.
What traits would your friends give to you?
“Powerful, talented, ineffably beautiful-- at least, they would, if I had any friends.
Is there anything else you would like to say?
“If you see a certain tall, white haired, brute, send him my way.
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Find a mini bio, personal details, connections, and other details on the muse page here
[midna] [river] [samwise]