[h2][center]Geralt of Rivia[/center][/h2]
[center]Eryth Sea-> Edge of the Blue[/center]
[center]Lvl 5 (64/50) -> Lvl 5 (65/50) [/center]
[center]Word Count: 538 words[/center]
[center][@DracoLunaris][/center]

Satisfied that Sakura was safe, Geralt turned away chivalrously as the Japanese woman began undressing, an uninterested look on his face. Bowser Jr's mocking rubbed him the wrong way, but the Witcher didn't comment on it. He didn't want to annoy either the turtle monster thing or his father, and he'd done enough damage already by opening his fat mouth. Instead, he decided to cross the deck he was on and look out onto the ocean with a frown. [i]I don't fit in with these kids. Even the Cadet comes from a world where dying is a major tragedy, despite the fact that they fight giant monsters on a daily basis.[/i] He sighed, ignoring the commotion behind him as they passed by the fishing trawler. It was only out of a sense of polite obligation that he took the fishing rod offered by the cadet, before setting it down aside where he stood. 

[i]Maybe I should ditch them and go back to Yen after this...[/i] He mused in frustration. It would be more pleasant than babysitting what were essentially oversized children. This was part of the problem of living so long: you stopped thinking like normal people. He couldn't tell if it was a fault in himself, or if the others were just plain naive. On the Continent, he could firmly say he was usually in the right, especially since the latest social trend that he bucked was genocide. But here? Maybe there was some better way to do things. Maybe they'd be lucky enough to not have to eat rotting porridge with a monster to lift a curse. 

He wouldn't believe it till he saw it, frankly. Naivety like that got people killed. Got plenty of Witchers killed, too. Geralt was lucky to have survived as long as he had, pushing the boundaries of folklore and what risks he was willing to take to save people. 

He forced his eyes shut and shook his head, bringing back the cold-hearted front he put up so often. If these kids needed somebody to kill for them, he'd do it, even if he hated every second of it. It wasn't like his soul could be [i]more[/i] tainted, after all. The only child he could screw up was Ciri, and the Universe had saw fit to do that for him. There wasn't much of a downside to playing the bad guy here, that he could see. 

Nodding, Geralt turned to the others and watched them fish. Kamek was floating apart from the others, watching them as he was. The old mage had gained the Witcher's interest before, but he'd never had the opportunity or the desire to speak directly to him, until now. 

"Kamek, right?" He asked as means of introduction. "Can't quite recall if we've properly met, with everything that's happened. I'm Geralt. Had a question, actually. Your boss...he's loud, obnoxious, and frustrating...but you follow him and his kid so diligently. They command small armies, even if they are just spirits. Maybe it's just charisma or their raw monstrous power, but something tells me there's more to it. A fellow like you wouldn't just be swayed by a big guy and some honeyed words. So why [i]do[/i] you follow him?"