[h2][center]Geralt of Rivia[/center][/h2]
[center]Carcass Isle- Where All Things Must Come -> Smash City: Alcamoth[/center]
[center]Lvl 9 (36/90) -> Lvl 9 (38/90) [/center]
[center]Word Count: 897 words[/center]

Geralt was a bit surprised, but not entirely shocked, that many of the other Seekers wished to stay on the island and rescue some of the more sane denizens of the place. Geralt, however, was tired. Bone tired. He could force himself to keep going, for sure, and with even a few hours of meditation he could get even more without proper sleep, but the luxury of going to Alcamoth and sleeping, not to mention seeing Yen again, were right in front of him. 

Geralt often said he wasn't a hero, and despite his best efforts few believed that, often teasing him about his tendency to stick his nose where it didn't belong. It was when he went through the portal to Alcamoth that Geralt told himself yet again that he wasn't a hero, that the real heroes were mindlessly trudging through that dank, dark cave to save whoever they could, while Geralt trudged through the Seekers' home base to sleep with his wife. That being literal did little to change his mind about the fact that he was choosing comfort and sleep over action. 

He didn't feel particularly guilty over it, though, honestly. He'd earned a rest, as had all the others. They wanted to strike while the iron was hot, however, and keep the island from exploding into chaos while they had the best chance to do so. He understood that, and from a tactical perspective it was brilliant. He'd leave it to them if it was so important to them. 

As he neared the residential spaces where he remembered Yennefer's room being, he slowed. His new appearance was much better than returning as a giant unicorn man, but he could feel the gauntness of his new body in places he wasn't used to. It didn't seem to be impeding him as he walked, however, and new callouses would quickly form to protect his skin where it would rub a little harder without as much fat cushioning the pressure from his bones. Still, he wondered what Yen's reaction would be. Especially due to how late, or early, it was. 

"Who in the bloody hell is knocking this late at-Oh!" Cutting herself off as she opened the door, Yennefer looked Geralt up and down, taking in his new appearance. "You look like shite." The appraisal was accurate, at least

"Feel like it, too." Geralt admitted, walking in as Yen turned to grant passage. "Want a bath, then to sleep. We took down another Guardian, but it was hard fought. Fused with its Spirit, along with another along the way. All things considered, I came out of it alright. Thinner, hair's a little messier, certainly lost some of my rugged good looks," Geralt joked, "but my mind's intact, which was the biggest question considering how it behaved." 

Yen hummed, looking over her sort-of husband a bit closer as he started pulling his gear off, pulling a few towels into a makeshift mat for him to place the dirtied gear on, with a quiet "thanks" in return. 

"What next? After we get some sleep, that is, since you so rudely interrupted mine." Yennefer punctuated her statement with a yawn. 

"Meet up with the others, probably return to Limsa for a bit to let their leaders know what happened, assuming the others haven't done that yet. Was going to see if the other teams needed a hand, then, I suppose." Geralt shrugged, pulling off a boot and wincing at the tar that dripped from it. "Damned tar..." He mumbled. 

"I see. Yes, I suppose that makes sense. You've become quite the politician, Geralt. Meeting with Emperors, assassinating kings, now this?" 

Geralt sighed. "Believe me, it was miserable sitting in that war room only to give a few sentences explaining what we could do, and spend the rest of the time watching generals bicker over their troop placements. Just read my memories and you'll see." The Witcher cocked an eyebrow when Yennefer looked away, almost embarrassedly. 

"Were I able, I'd have been doing so already." She admitted, drawing another sigh from Geralt. 

"Took me a while to start using Signs again, as well. Senses were dulled for weeks, as well. This place...took something from us all. We've been hard-pressed to get it back. Fighting, using my skills, though, seemed to accelerate the process. Might for you." He brainstormed. 

"Hmm. I'm not particularly fond of the idea of hunting monsters, of whatever kind this place has. And I've had enough war and killing, thank you." Yen rebutted. Geralt just nodded. 

"They might have something else you could do, but I suppose it's not terribly important. We'll be done with Galeem soon enough, I'm sure. Rather have Ciri back before then, though..." He grumbled, fighting with a buckle on his armor before finally releasing it. 

"As would I." Yen simply replied, before yawning. "I'll be in bed, Geralt. Don't waste time cleaning your armor, I'll tend to it in the morning. I can still do that much. Just use the shower, and join me when you're done." Nodding, Geralt slipped the chest piece off and turned to watch Yennefer return to bed, a small smirk on his face. 

"Never get tired of that..." He said to himself before returning to his work. There'd be plenty to do in the morning when he met the others. He could relax for now, at least.