Yankee
TruthHurts
princess
Plank SinatraINTERLUDE
Geralt of Rivia (level 5 [70/50]->[73/50]
Isabelle (level 1) [?/10]->[?+3/10]
Bar in Limsa Lominscuttle Town
Word count: 2,044 words
Having decided to take a detour before meeting with the others, Geralt was relaxing with a stiff drink in a strange kind of bar where the patrons were free to sing along to various songs from the manifold worlds. Right now, a drunkard was trying to sing along to...something. The music was fine, but the man’s words were far too slurred for anybody other than a linguistics expert to figure out just what in the hells he was saying.
Isabelle was finishing up shopping for some furniture for her home; she had gotten some good deals for some chairs, lamps and couches. All of these items she put into her pocket; she was glad she had her infinite dimension pockets. Walking down the street she walked into a hardware store; checking the tools aisle on what kind would be the best tool to use as a weapon. Buying a sledgehammer and a crowbar which she thought would be useful for later. Coming out of the hardware store and further down the street. Wanting to finish off her shopping spree by having a drink and perhaps sing some karaoke.
Walking into the bar and taking a seat on the bar counter; “May i please have a whiskey sour” She raised her paw trying to get the bartender’s attention. Her eyes turned towards Geralt. “Hello Mr.Geralt” Smiling as she paid for her drink with bells. Taking a sip of her alcoholic drink making a face of grimace.
Cocking an eyebrow at her reaction to the drink, Geralt smirked. “Not used to the hard stuff?” The question was somewhat rhetorical, but the mirthful tone suggested he meant no harm.
“No not really; mostly I have a fruity cocktail of some kind; a drink where I cannot really taste the alcohol. I am guessing you are used to such harsh tasting drinks?” She asked ordering a glass of water to keep herself sober.
The Witcher let out a short chuckle. “I’m near a century old, Isabelle, and a Witcher at that. Nothing else even registers as alcoholic. Once in a while I’ll drink alchemical alcohol just to get that extra buzz.”
“So you never get a hangover or being black out drunk; mhm lucky” Isabelle tapped her paws on the counter top. She wished she would be able to not get a hangover from getting drunk. “Mr. Geralt, can I ask you something?” The small dog took another sip of his whiskey.
Geralt gave a quick shake of the head at the insinuation that he couldn’t get hungover. “Not quite, but it goes away faster and takes a lot more, or a lot harder alcohol, to get there.” At the question, he turned his body a little more towards her. “What is it?” He was probably being a bit friendlier due to the alcohol, but he also liked to think that it’d be quite the whoreson who ignored a lady so clearly in distress. Even if she was a dog lady.
“Do you think I am doing a good job with helping the group fighting Galeem? From what has happened so far; i feel like i am not capable of fighting as skillfully as you or the others” The small dog lady finished drinking her whiskey. Now drinking her glass of water; “I guess the second part of my question is am i doing a good job assisting you and the other” The hard liquor quickly getting to her head; making her cheeks become bright red.
Geralt sighed. Ah yes, this question. “Frankly, I’ve asked myself the same plenty since this whole mess started. I’m just a guy with a sword. We’ve got giant flying bug ladies, legendary heroes, people with crazy handheld cannons, a bunch of sorceresses, all sorts of insane fighters. Sure, I have signs, but I can’t use them nearly as quickly as other magic-users.” Shaking his head and finishing his drink, he shrugged.
“Far as I see it, long as you’re out there fighting with us, doing what you can, and making the best use of your talents, you’re doing more than enough. Seen too many folk just sit on the side and let people die because they couldn’t do anything on their own. Course they couldn’t, no one man can stand up to a damned army.” Quickly gesturing for a refill, he continued. “But if they all did something, they could tar and feather the lot and barely get a scratch on them. You may not be as flashy as the others, may not be able to turn into a dragon or shoot lightning from your hands, but as long as you’re fighting and helping us, I ain’t keen to tell you that you haven’t been a help.” Damn, Geralt was bad at this.
Isabelle motioning the bartender for another refill on her whiskey sour; “Thank you; i have not been in many combat situations. So i am worried how my effectiveness in a fight will assist you and the other’s in a fight” The dog took a long chug of her refilled drink before continuing speaking. “I miss the island...i miss the village and villagers...and i miss Mr.Mayor” Isabelle now looked sad; swirling her glass in her paw. Her gaze peering over towards the karaoke machine in the corner of the room; her eyes widen with excitement; “Mr. Geralt would you like to sing some karaoke with me? It would be comparable to singing along with a bard” She was not sure if Geralt had sung before; of course she did not want to force Geralt to do something he didn’t want to do.
Geralt thought over the request for a moment. Dandelion would be furious if he learned Geralt had gone singing with some ‘common wench’ in a random bar rather than him. That was probably why he nodded, in hindsight. “Sounds like it could be interesting. Don’t imagine I’m any good, but I’m sober enough to not make a fool like those other folk from before.
Isabelle smiled, finishing the rest of her drink before jumping off of the stool; walking over towards the karaoke machine hoping that Geralt was following behind her. Picking up the microphone and was looking through the many songs that they could sing. “Would you like for me to start singing first?Or would you like to sing a duet together?” She asked, turning to face him with a smile on her face. She wanted to not make the whole ordeal awkward; she wanted to have him feel comfortable singing with essentially a stranger.
Geralt followed the woman to the karaoke machine, giving her question some thought. He had no idea what was going on, other than that the machine would tell them what to sing and play the music for them. He decided to err on the side of caution. “You can go first. I’d like to see what this stuff is all about.” He answered truthfully. He had no pride to lose about not understanding this technology.
“Very well” The dog looked though some songs she could sing to start them off; most of them were quite good choices. However she wondered if one of her favorite songs was available for her to sing. Searching around for her favorite song on the machine; she finally found the one she was looking for with a smile on her face (youtube.com/watch?v=F5eEvfOyb7k&ab_ch… ). Starting to sing the song with an admirable passion; making sure to put as much effort as she could in a strange way trying to impress him. Once she had finished singing she held the microphone to the side of her body; “How was that?” She simply asked him, trying to catch her breath.
Geralt’s eyes widened slightly as the music started. He was...not sure what this was. The music felt...off, in a way. He wasn’t sure if it was his own tastes, the massive cultural gap, or the machine’s influence, but he felt some kind of wrongness in his heart at the music. It wasn’t bad, he could tell there was a kind of technical talent that went into it, but he couldn’t honestly say he liked it. Isabelle’s singing was...better, but she was no bard, as cruel as it would be to say. So he didn’t. “That was quite good,” the Witcher lied through his teeth. “Not quite what I’m used to, though…” Geralt added that last bit to hopefully explain away what was likely an odd look on his face. “What next?”
“Well would you like to sing a duet if you feel more comfortable doing before singing one by yourself?” The dog was looking through some songs they could sing together. It would take her a little bit of searching before she found something the could both sing. (youtube.com/watch?v=LnDwBrm_jsY&ab_ch…); Starting to sing the first couple of lines waiting for Geralt to join her in singing. Keeping a smile and a friendly demeanor while singing.
This song, at least, felt more natural to Geralt. It felt...more real. He gave Isabelle a few lines to get a feel for how things were supposed to work (Having completely neglected to during his existential crisis prior), before jumping in. His voice was...gravelly but smooth at the same time, paradoxically enough. Not terribly deep, but not high in the least. There was an unspoken weariness beneath the words he sang, though onlookers would likely chalk it up to him working within the theme of the song. Isabelle might have noticed, but she might not have. It wasn’t uncommon for older folk to sound a little more worn, after all.
All that being said, Geralt found himself pulled into the song more than he’d expected to be, and was even a tiny bit sad when it ended. With the faintest hints of a smile, he nodded to the machine. “I think I’ve got the hang of it, now.”
“That was amazing Mr.Geralt; would you like help picking another song? Or would you like to stop singing?” The small dog woman walked over to pat him on the shoulder; but because she was much shorter then he was all she could do was gently pat his leg with her paw.
Chuckling at the friendly display, Geralt shook his head. “I’ll pick one, but after that I’m going back to the bar.” Looking over the selection and recognizing exactly nothing, Geralt picked one that he thought looked like it might be interesting: (youtube.com/watch?v=e1UUAhZ3JzM). He spent a moment blinking owlishly at the eclectic music, before finding himself almost magnetically drawn to singing it. It was hard to tell if it was the music, the lyrics themselves, or that the song was originally performed by somebody with a voice not terribly unlike his own (unknown to him, of course), but Geralt found that the song came and went in what felt like an instant, and that he had grown a bit from the experience.
“Huh. That was…an experience.”
“I have to say you have quite an amazing voice Mr.Geralt; did you take any singing lessons in the past?” Isabelle asked him, accompanying him to the bar. She was impressed by his vocal work; it reminded her of the later works of Tom Waits. Once there she took a seat asking the bartender for another glass of water. Looking at the watch she was wearing she turned towards Geralt. “Do you think we should get out of here and meet up with the others?” She asked him.
Geralt had to laugh at Isabelle’s question. “No, my lessons were more focused on combat, brewing potions, and hunting monsters. I am friends with a Bard, but I’ve never known singing skills to be transferred like personalities among friends.” Getting a glass of water for himself, Geralt drank patiently, only stopping to answer his companion’s question. “I suppose we should. Don’t want to keep everybody waiting.”
“I think that would be for the best; i want to thank you as well for drinking with me and singing karaoke together. Ever since i first came here i’ve been quite alone...and being with yourself and the group; i do not feel so lonely in such a different place” The small dog paid for both of their bills. Walking outside with Geralt to meet with the others.