Where & when: early in week 3, Purpose: geralt and aloy are coming to find the people who went through the underwater portal and bring them back. feel free to bump into geralt and aloy together, along the way, separated, whatever you're vibing.
THREAD START
[ His intent is to find the girl—Alicent—but it becomes clear she isn't the only one lost elsewhere on the slopes. He's tracking her down as it is. No reason to leave the rest stumbling in the snow. Once the sun sinks low, who in the hell knows what crawls out at night.
Normally, he'd go at it alone. But he's not exactly whole, and the best he has for a weapon is a sharp pick. Ciri aside, there's only one person he's certain can keep up with him. So. Here he is, trekking across the frozen ground with Aloy.
At least his senses have filtered back: bit by bit, he can see in the night again, catch a scent in the air or a heartbeat in the wind. Between tracks, perhaps the smell of blood—whatever it is, he does catch up to someone. A group, even.
Geralt peers around the corner, white hair matted a muddy grey beneath the hood of his cloak. His face might be familiar after all that time in the fucking hole together. ]
escape; water tunnel cave search.
Purpose: geralt and aloy are coming to find the people who went through the underwater portal and bring them back. feel free to bump into geralt and aloy together, along the way, separated, whatever you're vibing.
THREAD START
[ His intent is to find the girl—Alicent—but it becomes clear she isn't the only one lost elsewhere on the slopes. He's tracking her down as it is. No reason to leave the rest stumbling in the snow. Once the sun sinks low, who in the hell knows what crawls out at night.
Normally, he'd go at it alone. But he's not exactly whole, and the best he has for a weapon is a sharp pick. Ciri aside, there's only one person he's certain can keep up with him. So. Here he is, trekking across the frozen ground with Aloy.
At least his senses have filtered back: bit by bit, he can see in the night again, catch a scent in the air or a heartbeat in the wind. Between tracks, perhaps the smell of blood—whatever it is, he does catch up to someone. A group, even.
Geralt peers around the corner, white hair matted a muddy grey beneath the hood of his cloak. His face might be familiar after all that time in the fucking hole together. ]