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TEST DRIVE MEME #6
Welcome to the sixth test drive meme for Abraxas! This meme is run a little bit differently than most in that you'll be asked to choose one of the three different arrival scenarios below for your character to take. If you have any questions about this mechanic or anything else related to the TDM, please take a look at the questions below or ask one of your own under the Questions header below. For general game questions please still use the FAQ.
Our Setting pages are full of information on the world of Abraxas, and an overview of the story so far can be found on our Game History page! Anything on that page - including information about the Horizon and the Singularity - can be assumed to be told to newcomers after they arrive, no matter which faction they are received in. For more information on Ambrose and the apprentice mages, Marlo, and Rowan, please see our NPCs page.
You can also find answers to questions asked on previous TDMs in their respective questions threads— 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5.
Additionally, one change for this TDM is that characters who arrive in SOLVUNN will be given a charm necklace carved of bone depicting a butterfly with multiple wings. This image is meant to represent one of the Old Gods, Endrborrin, the Goddess of Renewal. Newly arrived characters in Solvunn who visibly wear this charm will find their reception in the community to be especially welcoming, even beyond how Solvunn normally treats the recently Summoned. Characters might receive unexpected invitations from strangers to have a meal or a drink, find doors to neighboring homes open to them, and discover eager faces wanting to help them settle in. It might even give them access to small discounts when purchasing items. Essentially, the people of Solvunn see those who wear the charm as accepting of their practices and traditions, and will treat them accordingly. In fact, they may treat them a bit too warmly - but that's simply how the commune works, of course! They look after their own.
You awaken suspended in the abyss, silent darkness stretching out in all directions. If you try to yell, you'll find that the sound doesn't carry. If you try to move, you'll find it's impossible to tell whether or not you're actually getting anywhere. If you reach for an item you were carrying last time you remember being awake, your hand will only touch bare skin.
You're naked and floating helplessly through the void, and what little air you have in your lungs is running out.
There's a pinprick of light that almost looks like a faraway star but as it grows it becomes clear that it's actually quite close. Through the opening you can see a bright room, but it's hard to make out any individual objects, as if you're looking from beneath rippling water.
A hand plunges through and you realize water is just what it is. Whether you take hold of the hand or not it will grab you and yank you up through the surface, lifting you out until you're sprawled on solid ground. Once you catch your breath, you can get a better look at the surroundings: tall trees and even taller stone pillars surround the platform you're laying on. Behind you is an ornate fountain, the base of which is so deep and so dark you might be compelled to scramble away from it lest it suck you back in to that endless abyss. Ahead of you are the walls of a large castle with several tall towers reaching up towards the sky.
If you had any powers, they feel unusually weak. Attempts to use magic or enhanced strength or powers of any sort fizzle out without any effect, but they don't feel completely gone, either.
Set into an indent on a marble slab behind the fountain is a card bearing the image of one of the arcana.
An apprentice mage - the one whose hand lifted you out of the fountain - brushes the water off on their robes and runs back to join a group of three others, who all stare intently at a mage with highly decorated robes and a large, heavy book. He peers up at you for a moment and starts flipping through the book.
"One moment," he says, not bothering to look up from the tome. He looks tired. "I am Ambrose Rhett, the High Mage of the Kingdom of Thorne. We’ll explain everything in a moment, but for now, please calm down. You’re completely fine."
Regardless of your response, he keeps flipping through the pages, until he stops on one specific passage, stares at it for a moment, and then sighs with relief:
"Finally!"
Ambrose's expression brightens, relief visible across his features. He waves one of the apprentices over with a fine silk tunic, pants, and some basic sandals and with a wave of his hand they reshape to fit you perfectly.
"Oh, thank heavens," he says, closing the book and approaching you with a sort of worn-out relief. “I was beginning to believe we’d never get it exactly right.”
Now that he's not hunching over the book, he doesn't seem quite so stuffy and inapproachable. The apprentices all seem to visibly relax, and the one that handed you the tunic stops to take the tarot card down from the marble slab. If you show any curiosity about the card, they'll let you take a longer look, but won't let you touch it.
"Please, come with me," he says, motioning for you to follow him towards the castle. "As promised, my pupils will explain your current situation. And, ah - if you had any magic of your own, or other special abilities you can't access right now, fear not, they'll return within the week. The summoning takes a lot out of you."
One of the apprentices steps forward and rattles on and on about the castle, Thorne itself, the names of a bunch of royals and nobles, and of course, your reason for being here. The Kingdom and the world itself is in great peril, and tales of your exploits have reached far and wide across universes. If asked about these exploits, the apprentice will simply smile and shrug. The High Mage was happy to see you and that's good enough.
Once inside the castle you're taken to the North Wing, which has been set up as living quarters for you and your fellow newcomers. There are four people to a room, but each generously-sized bed has opaque curtains that can be drawn around it. You can meet your roommates here and discuss your shared situation (those who were previously brought in may have a great deal of information to tell you), or you can wander around and meet the others.
There's also a dining hall stocked with a rotating 24/7 buffet in celebration of the new honored guests. Somehow, your very favorite food is part of the rotation (or at least an attempted recreation of it given the limited technology available to the Thorneans). The town surrounding the castle is all abuzz as well, with most shops and services willing to give free samples of their wares to the new arrivals.
You may also notice that your sign is embroidered on your tunic: the same image you saw on the card from before with the name of the sign itself beneath it. If you ask the castle residents, they'll tell you a little bit about your sign (and will mostly stick to the positives, although some might point out the negatives).
Last (and, if you ask anyone else in the castle, least) there is a worn stone staircase leading underground to the dungeon. You can go there, if you wish, but all powers are restricted in the dungeons and most of the cells stand empty.
You find yourself pulled from the water by a pair of strong hands. Dry warmth hits you at once as you're set on a warm hard floor. As your senses return you realize you're on dull ruddy stone and surrounded by strangers. Men and women in unfamiliar uniforms of brown and red leather stand in a semi-circle around a small pool of water. The very pool you were just pulled from. The water is still now, rimmed in pale gold tiles with odd symbols etched into them. Across it on the far side is a raised pedestal with a card propped on it. The card bears an arcana symbol.
You feel weak. Drained. Any abilities or magical powers you have seem far away and impossible to access. You're in what looks like a cave lit by dozens and dozens of torches set into the wall. There's no furniture or decoration to be seen besides the pool. It's almost uncomfortably warm and there's the sound of rushing wind somewhere in the distance. Flickering shadows obscure the faces of the guards. A robed woman stands off to the side, looking at you anxiously and then to the authoritative woman standing before you. She's grinning, dressed in a fancier uniform than the others. There's a sword at her hip. A guard covers you with a blanket and returns to their place in the semi-circle.
The woman with the sword gives a nod of approval and smiles warmly.
"Sorry about the circumstances."
She gives you a good hard look before standing again.
"Take a minute, catch your breath, you've had quite a shock. Take it nice and easy. I'm Prime Minister Marlo Reiner and you're in The Free Cities. That nice lady over there will explain everything to you and get you settled." A nod to the robed woman off to the side.
Marlo Reiner steps back and the robed mage approaches to help you up.
"Come with me, please." She brings you out of the cave through a corridor that angles upwards until you emerge in what looks like some kind of storage facility. Shelves of wooden boxes and cloth bags line them, unidentifiable parts of what might be machines are tucked into corners and propped against shelving units. "This is one of the Free Cities' outposts," the mage explains as she leads you. "We're honored to have you with us, I'm sure you have many questions but please save them. You need to recover!"
You'll learn you're in the Cadens Desert Outpost 003, a military outpost on the outskirts of Cadens city. You're brought to a room in the barracks that's been prepared. Each barracks room is rather sparse and utilitarian. Six simple beds set against the wall, three on each side of the room, each with a trunk at the foot of it. You're told the world is in a delicate and dangerous times and you're needed to help. You're important, you're told, and they're very grateful you're here.
You're asked to stay close for the time being, but to make yourself at home. The outpost is more a proper military base than the name implies, with full facilities. The barracks have a communal bathing room at the end of the hall, with curtains that can be pulled around the individual raised round tubs for privacy. There's a mess hall that has food available from sun up till a few hours after sundown. You're even encouraged to make use of the training grounds, if you'd like, with non-lethal training weapons available for use and obstacle courses set up. And the city of Cadens is only a couple of hours away by wagon - though you're asked initially to please be back at the outpost within a few hours of the sun going down.
For your own safety.
The feeling of floating is the first sense that comes to you as the edges of unconsciousness start to ebb. Sunlight filters through the rippling water as you open your eyes, making you squint. Before you have the chance to panic and inhale, firm hands grasp your arms and pull you to the surface of the water. Moments later, soft warmth is wrapped around your shoulders as you're guided on unsteady legs out of a pool of water. You're lowered to the soft grass. Men and women in simple garments with lavish embroidery stand by, waiting with bated breath, glancing seriously at an old man in an ornate robe. He holds an old leather-bound book in one hand and in the other is a card bearing an arcana symbol. His eyes move quickly over the page, and he mumbles idly to himself.
Any strength you may have possessed feels as though it has slipped through your fingers. Any abilities or magical powers you have don't come to the surface no matter how hard you try. You're in a grassy clearing in the midst of a circle of large stone slabs stacked to look like doorways. In the middle is the same glimmering pool you were just pulled from. A gentle breeze blows through, carrying the scent of flowers and herbs from an ornately decorated altar set off in front of one of the stone doorways. The mage closes his book and steps out of the water, addressing a matronly old woman. Behind her are two younger people, a rough-looking man, and a meek young girl, both of whom are also watching the mage.
“I detect no ill will from the gods, it seems we've been blessed with success.” Those that had gathered all breathe a sigh of relief and now seem pleased.
The old woman smiles and steps forward, offering to take your hands and help you stand. “Any gift the gods give us is one we will happily take. I'm certain you have many questions, and they will all be answered in time. For now, rest and know you will be taken care of.”
She pats the top of your hand and steps away with a serene smile, letting one of the others come forward with some clothes that seem to fit you perfectly. Once you're dressed, someone approaches to drape a delicate-looking charm depicting a butterfly with too many wings on a thin chain over your neck. The rough-looking man from before steps forward once you're decent and motions with his head outside of the stone circle. His speech is informal, his consonants harsh.
“Hold your horses, I can see all those questions coming about! Rowan March, at your service. I'm one of the council members of Solvunn. There's a lot to discuss, but it's best talked about over a hot meal.” He leads you to a horse-drawn carriage and helps you up into the back. He talks the entire ride to the settlement.
You find out you are in the Primary Settlement, the first of three that make up Solvunn's great territory. The settlement is situated between two lakes and is humming with life. You're brought to the center of town and escorted to an apartment above one of the establishments in town. Rowan explains that the living conditions are temporary if you'd like them to be, that local families would also be happy to host you in their home. That there are others like you who have also taken up residence within the three settlements. You're told that the world hangs upon the brink of disaster and that there are those in this world that are happy to see it fall to ruin with their meddling.
You're important. The gods have graced them with your presence. They're delighted you're here. Welcome to Solvunn.
Everything you need has been provided in this humble apartment, and if it hasn't, there are shops that line the streets and a marketplace in the center of town. Owners of some establishments or stalls are more than happy to give out samples or barter with your time for their goods. Babysitting can be a very lucrative business. You're told of the other settlements, that they'd like you to stay here for now, but if you can find a family to host you, the secondary and tertiary settlements are best to get to with an escort.
There are tales of travelers visiting the secondary settlement without invitation disappearing without a trace. The gods are as hungry as they are protective, young traveler.
You’ll find that there are more than enough activities to throw yourself into to better settle into your new life in Solvunn. Work is done in the first part of the day so that families can spend the rest of it together in leisure and work on their crafts - whatever those may be. For those children who are not of school age, they need nannies or storytellers, and there’s always a gaggle of them running about unsupervised. Families with livestock can always take a spare hand, especially since farms are so spread out, they have a tendency to wander. Whatever skills you may possess can always be of use to the community or to honor the gods.
If any of these options are no good for your lifestyle, the main roads between settlements can always use a bit of monster clean-up… just make sure you don’t go alone.
How many slots are open?
Please check the Taken page for how many player, franchise, and canon slots are available. Activity check will be processed before applications open, so the count may change between now and then. Existing players can apply for a second character without restriction.
How do I choose a scenario for my character?
Pick whichever situation appeals to you most. Which faction your character is drawn into has nothing to do with their personal morality, beliefs, or how highly they regard themselves and their own accomplishments. Anyone can be put into any one of the situations.
Can I try out more than one scenario?
You can! But please keep in mind that only the one you eventually choose can be game canon, if you decide to keep any of your TDM threads.
What happens if my character refuses to comply with the NPCs?
They will be forgiven for their moment of panic or anger if they have one, and the faction leaders will try to calm them and persuade them further. If they put up too much of a fight and/or start actively attacking anyone, they will be warned once that everyone is willing to put them back in the well where they came from (see below), and if they continue to fight they will make good on that promise.
My character intends on causing a lot of trouble (destroying parts of the cities, murdering the NPCs, etc.), what would happen to them?
Characters who make too much trouble for the mages and other NPCs would be thrown back in the well (which will mean drowning in the void, not returning home). Brawling with other PCs and causing minor damage is fine and will be greeted with a cranky attitude and intervention from various NPC guards, and there will be plenty of opportunity for destruction and murder later, but for now the Abraxans have no desire to keep huge liabilities around.
I want to wildcard a prompt or use one of the prompts from an earlier TDM that isn't on this one (eg. the library), can I do that?
Yes, in terms of the settings. As Thorne is no longer imprisoning any newcomers, that option is no longer applicable.
Is the power loss for characters permanent?
No, but it does take a week or so for their powers to be back in full, and certain powers (determined on a case-by-case basis) may require nerfs. If your character has world-breaking powers, please discuss with the mods what modifications may be necessary.
Can my character leave the bounds of the faction?
In Thorne, characters can leave the castle but not the city. In Cadens, they can take a trip from the outpost to the city. In Solvunn, they can explore the entirety of the Primary Settlement.
Can my character eventually change factions?
Yes. While the faction borders are currently closed, there will opportunities in the future for characters to relocate. For the time being, they are stuck where they are.
How much will my choice of scenario affect my character's plot later on?
This choice will determine where your character initially lives as well as the bias of the information they receive from NPCs (although other PCs can and most likely will give it to them a bit more straight). This decision - and every other major decision you make in game! - will also be used to flavor some mod surprises that will be coming down the line.
Don't get too anxious about this choice, though; this is just one choice you'll get to make in a game that has a lot of them, and every character in every scenario can work their way towards many, many individual goals and outcomes. You're not locking yourself out of anything in the future via the choice you made on the TDM. It will primarily impact the immediate future with the far-reaching effects being up to each player.
Are TDM threads mandatory for my application?
No, you may use other samples, but we encourage you to post to the TDM and get a feel for this game and its mechanics before you join. If you do not have a TDM thread you will still need to choose one of the three scenarios on your application.
What if I haven't settled on a sign yet?
You can ignore sign-related prompts if you're undecided (or try out different signs in different threads).
Can my character go to the Horizon?
First time visitors to the Horizon must be taken there by other characters, through either shared meditation or a physical journey to the Singularity, and all first-timers experience memory loss. For the purposes of the TDM, we suggest against using the Horizon.
What about making use of the network?
Much like Horizon they would need to be introduced to it by another PC, as no NPCs would be aware of the network or be able to access it. Because of this we would advise against using this mechanic for TDM top-levels.
academy.
Does this mean he's carrying a plant-like spider larger than his palm in a jar? Yes. It's alive, too, which was a fucking annoyance to accomplish. They're easy to kill; irritating to capture. The side of his hand bears two angry fang-like marks, though it lacks the swelling that should be typical of a bite that fresh.
His unnatural yellow eyes land on what is, to him, probably a student. Professor? Doesn't matter. Geralt looks him up and down. Hm. Look, he wasn't given the most accurate description of who he's meant to hand this thing off to. While he'd normally hassle for details, this job was so small, he hadn't bothered. Something he took to kill time while he's remaining close to the city for...a variety of reasons.
In any case: large desert arachnid. Pretty in colouring, if you're into that. Enjoy a look as he casually holds the jar up. ] You wanted this?
no subject
Oh - thanks. [but more importantly,] Your hand... It bit you?
[Well, he's invested in this spider delivery now, if nothing else. He accepts the jar purely to lean in and look at the bite, noting the lack of significant swelling but unsure what to make of it immediately. This is, after all, a strange world with magic and who knows what else, or so he's told...
He looks up, all earnest concern for this spider stranger. Welcome to phase two of this quest, the part he has simply inserted himself into? A sidequest within a sidequest.]
Are you alright? Any numbness? Ah, if I can put this somewhere, [a weird spider!!] I should take a look.
[None of which is "no, that isn't my spider, what are you talking about," but whoever wants this thing can surely forgive another ten minutes' wait if it means their delivery guy doesn't permanently damage a hand.]
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We had a disagreement. [ The answer comes deadpan. Yes, it bit him. That's what spiders do. He'd reached for its friend and gotten this one latched to him instead. So it's the unfortunate eight-legged soul which wound up in the jar.
His brows draw together. He wants to say he's fine because he is. He's been bitten before. Comes with the territory when you sleep in the open desert as often as he does. They are, however, in the medical studies wing of the academy. Why not. He won't turn down free healing. The bite does little to him, in theory, but it'll still itch like a bastard for the next two days and that's no fun.
He makes a gesture that seems to say After you, with the expectation that this man will lead them somewhere that isn't the middle of a corridor to 1) take said look; and 2) put his spider away. ]
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He knows where he's going. He's got the look of a haggard professor in all aspects that matter, so if they turn any heads in this hallway, they don't hold anyone's attention.
Well, maybe the spider does, but that's a sacrifice Tenma will make. He flags down a passerby who has busy teaching assistant written in the bags under their eyes and makes a perfunctory request for some supplies - bandages, antiseptic, etc. It's his Head Surgeon voice that makes it work, and he opens the door to an empty work room as the assistant scampers off to a practical supply closet.]
Try to get comfortable. [At, like, an office desk. It's fine. He puts the spider on a shelf by the door, eyeing it warily for just a second.] Any fever? You look a little pale, but in good health besides that.
[Give him that hand, sir. He holds his own out.]
May I? [and since the supplies aren't back yet...] You seem like you're used to this.
no subject
Desk will do. He pulls up a chair. His gaze sweeps the room—leather-bound texts (nothing of note), shelves that now have an excess of one (1) Sundew spider upon it. It rears and hisses from behind its glass prison. A scroll of parchment sits on a nearby table. He studies what looks like a signature tucked in the corner of one and half-hidden under a curled edge, but he can't make out the name from this angle. ]
I'm— [ Fine. A beat passes. He doesn't need any care, technically. This bite won't even kill humans; it certainly has no real effect on him. Some salve will do. Explaining why that's so and exactly what he is requires effort he can't muster at the moment, though, so he lets the fussing be. Besides, consider his curiosity piqued. He expected to pass off the spider, collect his coin, be on his way. Most people don't give a fuck about what scratches he might've garnered.
He peers at the man across from him as he gives his hand. Flecks of dried blood and sand stain under his nails. ] As do you.
[ A question lurks beneath the pointed statement: Who are you? ]
no subject
Ah, but—] I'm more familiar with surgery, but I've treated all kinds.
[Which could mean injuries and could mean big, mean-looking types with odd eyes, but that's neither here nor there. Tenma tilts forward just so, to scrutinize the bite more closely; luckily he needn't be an expert in venomous bites to judge that this one will be just fine with a simple clean-and-bandage, which hopefully won't take too long for his impatient, ah, patient.
He straightens up to say as much, which is when the assistant he'd commanded pops their head around the doorway, so hold on: first, supplies, and the assistant is dismissed with genuine thanks but the same perfunctory, no-nonsense manner. Luckily the difference between antiseptic liquid and a thicker salve is consistent across worlds, so he sets about cleaning and bandaging without any further fuss. He's quick and efficient at this little triage, as a bonus.]
And I'm sorry, but I lied to you, [a great thing to hear from a mystery doctor] About the spider. I'm not from around here — you got the wrong man.
[haha fun, don't hit him]
You'll be fine if you keep the bandage on for a few days. Still, whoever paid you to collect dangerous animals must have cash to spare.
[This is not, like, A Hint about Worker's Compensation for that Injury, but it's not not a hint. Ahem.]
no subject
One eyebrow goes up. Notably, Geralt does not take his hand back. He may have lied about the spider, but judging by his work, he hasn't lied about his experience. Steady hands. Light touch. ]
Well, the other bastard was late then. [ The remark is both dry and resigned, as though he's accepted every so often some bullshit happens. Like a man taking live spiders he didn't agree to pay for. Should Geralt ask why? Does it matter? Doubtful. This feels not so much a case of deceit as it does sheer nonsense. He'll take it back afterwards. Look for who the hell he should be meeting or maybe sell it to someone else and be done with it. Truthfully, he's less concerned about this spider business and more intrigued by the other comment: I'm not from around here.
Perhaps he should've guessed. Explains why the man was hovering outside the room earlier, as though he wasn't supposed to be there. Because he wasn't.
Geralt flexes his fingers when the bandaging is complete. ] They pulled you through, too.
[ (Please tell him about worker's compensation. Where does he collect for unethical mutations performed in one's childhood.) ]
no subject
Still; not the point. Tenma steps politely back to set his makeshift first aid kit to rights - screw all the caps back on the antiseptics, more or less - and nods, both with satisfaction that his bandaging job is flexible and the, hmm, the other thing.]
Haha— literally! [a real barrel o' laughs, in the way where he may just give up and lie down on the floor any second now; he's good, he's fine] I was supposed to be...
[A great many things, but in his sudden deluge of thoughts surrounding business and people and grief left behind just a day ago, what surfaces is simply,] I had another patient. I'm a real doctor.
[You know, in case he seemed shady. He knows.]
You've been here longer than I have, I'm guessing...
no subject
Now that he thinks about it, this is the most official sort of treatment he's received in recent memory. Last time he was laid out on someone's couch while they scrambled to sew him back up. ]
Few seasons. [ Longer by miles. Long enough he didn't actually arrive in Cadens. He'd fled here from Thorne, settled into the city weeks before they realized they could summon their own. ] Not what you want to hear?
[ Just a presumption. He's been here from the start—close to a year now. Less than encouraging for anyone who has hopes of returning soon. Who has something—someone—perhaps waiting. A patient. ]
no subject
It's an answer. [And that's something, where uncertainty would be worse. He does half a gesture with his other hand, meant to signify something or other. He's not sure? There aren't too many words for "world-hopping anxiety situations" that he's aware of.] I doubt I'll be hearing much from anyone who's not here anymore, after all.
[The people he's worried about back home number half a dozen, patient included, and that's only the immediate concerns — he's going to miss some resolutions. A funeral. That one twists guiltily in his stomach, and so—]
We were... chosen, right? To come here. [Summoned, pulled, whatever. He doesn't know what his spider bite patient thinks of all that, if perhaps he spent a while furious like some Tenma saw at the barracks, before arriving at a "few seasons." But Tenma expects more honesty from another Summoned, so:] How can I help?
no subject
A few seconds tick by. That question's been asked before. It's true of the newer faces. Chosen. His arrival to this world was more complicated. Three months locked in a dungeon because they apparently labelled him a mistake sort of complicated so— ]
It's what they say of you. [ There's some emphasis on of you. He doesn't see himself as part of that group.
Still, if it's honesty the man is searching for, he'll at least find it in spades in Geralt. ]
They believe they can use you. You can let them, if you want. But I suggest getting out of the barracks when you can.
no subject
I'll remember that, [he says, and he will: he has no warm fuzzy feelings about being gently funneled into the military, even for a stipend.
... Even so.]
If someone needs a doctor, I'm going to help. [even if they turn out to be.......Huge Assholes] What about the others— the people brought here, like us?
[It's Us from Tenma, very sorry. Hopefully there are other doctors among them or he's about to get up in everybody's business, at once.]
Do we look after each other?
no subject
Likes them a bit too much, he's noticed.
His expression shifts: understanding of where the question comes from, but also that only one answer can be expected. ] People are what they are. Same as any place.
[ He's found those he can trust and those he can't in equal measure. There is no grand we, beyond the connection they share with the Singularity. Not even when it comes to the desire to find a path home. He's starting to rebuild his home here instead. He isn't the only one. ]
What are you hoping to learn?
no subject
And, well, if he's disappointed that the Summoned lack clear solidarity... that is what it is, too. He still had to hope, but he gets it. People are going to have different goals. Some people sell spiders, it's normal.]
Maybe it's better to take things as they come. I'll work myself out eventually.
[A certified Don't Worry, which he means in the patented "I won't burden anyone" way, and no other. It's not like being a doctor is not valuable.]
Oh, [a realization, as he looks back at the spider again and remembers Gainful Employment is a real thing,] About leaving the barracks, do you... have any recommendations?
no subject
You'll find a few hunters in the area. [ Himself included. ] We don't care about your papers, but. We also prefer to tend to ourselves.
[ He can give it a try, in other words. No guarantees how effective he'll be at convincing one of them they should let him fix them for a fee when they can stitch themselves up well enough. But if anyone's prone to bleeding out and subsequently not giving a fuck about credentials, it's them. The locals might be more discerning about paperwork—which he assumes, no matter how skilled, will take the man some time to obtain.
He thinks, anyhow. Geralt's never held any official paperwork with his name in his entire existence. They threw a medallion at him after he happened to not die in the Trials and that's the only identifier he's ever had. ]
no subject
[He's just saying, he even lied about the spider! Sort of, by omission! His total inability to mind his business will make his career here as a back alley doctor practicing outside the law. It's nothing new, besides the backdrop... hmm.]
To be honest, I don't know if I could handle papers right now...
[Haha, imagine hospital politics: but with magic!— He'd just lie down and give up on the spot. It really does sound much more comfortable right now to heckle these prickly hunters (he may be assuming) into accepting basic medical care, rather than dropping head first into the official bureaucracy. Will he be living in a lean-to somewhere? Maybe. It's fine.
He smiles then, less frayed around the edges this time.]
Staph infection hurts more than bruised pride. I hope your fellow hunters can swallow that.
[✨go to your doctor✨ but only if that doctor is Tenma, specifically]
no subject
Besides, he can't brew the most potent of his elixirs here. Missing a few key ingredients. It's inhibited his ability to heal somewhat. Not by much, but enough he won't say no to having a doctor on hand on the off chance he...splits open his back again or along those lines. He isn't planning on it, but occasionally, things happen. ]
That's not a concern for me. But I'll pass it on to the humans.
[ Does Geralt elaborate on that statement? He does not. Maybe it explains the lack of swelling from what should be a venomous bite, though.
Whatever the man's reaction, he asks instead, ] You have a name?
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Still. Hmm.]
It's Tenma, and I won't ask you to pay me anything when you need help, [first and second points here, hastily said but genuinely meant; he's really not going to demand a fistful of coin for a hand bandaging, especially when he did think it was an emergency.
His business sense will be the death of him, but never mind that now. The allegedly not human thing is intriguing, to be sure, but more than that, not a concern? Sir?] Unfortunately, I already know you're susceptible to injury like everyone else. If you don't want to look after yourself, just come to me.
[✨go to your doctor oh my god✨]
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He glances briefly at the spider. It bares two sharp fangs that match the mark imprinted on his hand. He didn't expect to be in its company for this long. Perhaps he should name it.
Unfortunately indeed. His head cocks to the side. I look after myself fine is what he thinks but does not say. Geralt's brand of stubborn trends less towards arguing over sentiments and more towards simply doing what he will without a word. But he does appreciate the offer. It's not one he'll turn down if he needs it. They probably simply have a different threshold for what qualifies as need. ]
I'll keep that in mind. [ He rises from his seat; reaches for the spider in its jar. ] Try not to accept any more live specimens from strangers.
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Like, this isn't his office, or even the right kind of office, but he's going to piddle around with the ointments like this is a normal patient-leaving-the-office situation. It's the little things.]
I'll try to keep my hands to myself. You take care of that little guy.
[haha.... goodbye forever, angry spider, and good riddance.]