i. into the endless [ it happens in what feels like an instand and eternity both: the harsh heat of flame across her skin, and the smoke and ash in her lungs, is so quickly replaced by the biting sting of cold. it pushes the air out of her throat and she coughs into soot covered hands.
she stands in the middle of a snow-touched forest, flanked by a winding path and with no recollection of ever getting here, the severity of black curls and dark dress cutting starkly through the cushioned white. her ears still ring with the roar of fire, with the screaming of nilfgardian soldiers. her own throat burns hot and raw from screaming.
fingertips tingle with the whispers of the chaos she served as conduit for. so much power, all that she was capable of, and she thought it would be her end. instead, there's air biting her her lungs, pinching her cheeks. minuscule reminders of a beating heart.
could she have opened a portal? it seemed so unlikely...
there lie two clear directions before her - forward or back, and which way was which? - with no footprints to track across, and she cannot shake the distinct feeling of being toyed with. that this was not her doing, and she is too battle-sore to wield her ire with the same deadly efficiency she's so used to.
so she picks a direction, and starts walking, arms wrapping around herself.
it is a small comfort that she still feels chaos rush across her skin - too weak to call upon it yet, but it means something to know it is there.
some time into the trek, deeper into - or out? - of the forest, she thinks there is a shadow shifting up ahead. quick and swift, gone before she blinks. ] Hello?
ii. bodies without souls [ everything within this village was strange. shaped familiar enough to recognize a house as such, but with the sort of hard-edged extravagance of something far out of her time. she could not place any of it, shapes too controlled, refined even amidst the layers of dust and the occasional sign of decay that broke through the clean illusion.
still, far better than the pigshit-filled pens houses of her villages were built around. it feels a poor comparison and lends to more of her confusion.
the book store draws her in not unlike a moth to a flame - tomes and scrolls of any kind of would a welcome thing, if only because many people had a tendency of loving to talk about themselves. that included writing, and if any insight was ot be gained about this place, any such place would be a decent enough start when you have shit-all to go on.
the flickering lights surprise her, and when she covers the span between her and the door, she swings it open with the fling of her wrist, only to reveal not a single soul inside. ]
Empty. [ the exhale slips out in dismay still, yennefer ventures further in, fingertips running across the bookshelves, lifting off dust.
no titles she recognizes, nose wrinkling at the supposed taste level of this foreign place. what strange tomes are these? ] Oh, sod it all.
iii. the end approaches [ the strange woman, all severe, sharp angles and so very out of place in this strange, strange town, stands before the bulletin board and looks at it with a quickly deepening frown. at the very least, notice boards seemed to have transcended enough space and time to make their way over to wherever she was.
see? never underestimate anyone's desire to be heard on in a public forum.
a settlement has formed, it appears, but there's far too little notices for there to be a long standing presence.
inevitably, her hand moves over to the map, with the foreboding message scrawled in blood. he doesn't look particularly impressed. hissed under her breath: ] Very fucking clever. [ spoiler: it isn't. ]
( ooc; tis i, nav/berezka coming in hot yet with another tdm post because i'm ~indecisive~ but i love playing yen and her voice is a bit louder than the rest, so here we are. i have to stop pretending i don't exclusively play asshole types. )
yennefer of vengerberg / the witcher (netflix)
[ it happens in what feels like an instand and eternity both: the harsh heat of flame across her skin, and the smoke and ash in her lungs, is so quickly replaced by the biting sting of cold. it pushes the air out of her throat and she coughs into soot covered hands.
she stands in the middle of a snow-touched forest, flanked by a winding path and with no recollection of ever getting here, the severity of black curls and dark dress cutting starkly through the cushioned white. her ears still ring with the roar of fire, with the screaming of nilfgardian soldiers. her own throat burns hot and raw from screaming.
fingertips tingle with the whispers of the chaos she served as conduit for. so much power, all that she was capable of, and she thought it would be her end. instead, there's air biting her her lungs, pinching her cheeks. minuscule reminders of a beating heart.
could she have opened a portal? it seemed so unlikely...
there lie two clear directions before her - forward or back, and which way was which? - with no footprints to track across, and she cannot shake the distinct feeling of being toyed with. that this was not her doing, and she is too battle-sore to wield her ire with the same deadly efficiency she's so used to.
so she picks a direction, and starts walking, arms wrapping around herself.
it is a small comfort that she still feels chaos rush across her skin - too weak to call upon it yet, but it means something to know it is there.
some time into the trek, deeper into - or out? - of the forest, she thinks there is a shadow shifting up ahead. quick and swift, gone before she blinks. ] Hello?
ii. bodies without souls
[ everything within this village was strange. shaped familiar enough to recognize a house as such, but with the sort of hard-edged extravagance of something far out of her time. she could not place any of it, shapes too controlled, refined even amidst the layers of dust and the occasional sign of decay that broke through the clean illusion.
still, far better than the pigshit-filled pens houses of her villages were built around. it feels a poor comparison and lends to more of her confusion.
the book store draws her in not unlike a moth to a flame - tomes and scrolls of any kind of would a welcome thing, if only because many people had a tendency of loving to talk about themselves. that included writing, and if any insight was ot be gained about this place, any such place would be a decent enough start when you have shit-all to go on.
the flickering lights surprise her, and when she covers the span between her and the door, she swings it open with the fling of her wrist, only to reveal not a single soul inside. ]
Empty. [ the exhale slips out in dismay still, yennefer ventures further in, fingertips running across the bookshelves, lifting off dust.
no titles she recognizes, nose wrinkling at the supposed taste level of this foreign place. what strange tomes are these? ] Oh, sod it all.
iii. the end approaches
[ the strange woman, all severe, sharp angles and so very out of place in this strange, strange town, stands before the bulletin board and looks at it with a quickly deepening frown. at the very least, notice boards seemed to have transcended enough space and time to make their way over to wherever she was.
see? never underestimate anyone's desire to be heard on in a public forum.
a settlement has formed, it appears, but there's far too little notices for there to be a long standing presence.
inevitably, her hand moves over to the map, with the foreboding message scrawled in blood. he doesn't look particularly impressed. hissed under her breath: ] Very fucking clever. [ spoiler: it isn't. ]
( ooc; tis i, nav/