The difference between an illusion everyone can share, versus one only you can.
( Almost calm, almost nonchalant. Almost isn't the same as truly calm, or the shiver that Yennefer might trace through Ciri in the moment where she inhales, and Voleth Meir is a memory too recent to have been processed, as with so much of what Ciri's faced. Trauma simply is. Trauma stacks, kindling for a conflagration they all must hope won't ignite.
Yennefer already has thought more about homefacing worries than Ciri allows herself, in her scant time here. If she thinks about it, she'll be as frustrated she can't do much of anything, but what was she doing? Trying so much not to be caught up and used or killed for other people's purposes.
Worrying about home in the face of that is harder than worrying about the handful of people she still has to care about. The ones still breathing. The ones difficult to kill.
(Not impossible. Never, sadly, impossible.) )
Programming? Like that machine?
( A jerky nod toward the three-dee printer, where her frustration has failed to produce whatever wooden-like practise sword she'd been looking to make. More for familiarity than need. Really, she should be practising with steel.
Will, she promises herself. For the weight of it, and because Yennefer is here, but Geralt... )
He's not here, is he.
( Let him not be caught up as they are in a regret he's willing to come here for. If it's because she wants to understand him as having accepted more than she feels she can yet, or if it means he wants to be there for them, for her, in ways that being here cannot resolve. )
no subject
( Almost calm, almost nonchalant. Almost isn't the same as truly calm, or the shiver that Yennefer might trace through Ciri in the moment where she inhales, and Voleth Meir is a memory too recent to have been processed, as with so much of what Ciri's faced. Trauma simply is. Trauma stacks, kindling for a conflagration they all must hope won't ignite.
Yennefer already has thought more about homefacing worries than Ciri allows herself, in her scant time here. If she thinks about it, she'll be as frustrated she can't do much of anything, but what was she doing? Trying so much not to be caught up and used or killed for other people's purposes.
Worrying about home in the face of that is harder than worrying about the handful of people she still has to care about. The ones still breathing. The ones difficult to kill.
(Not impossible. Never, sadly, impossible.) )
Programming? Like that machine?
( A jerky nod toward the three-dee printer, where her frustration has failed to produce whatever wooden-like practise sword she'd been looking to make. More for familiarity than need. Really, she should be practising with steel.
Will, she promises herself. For the weight of it, and because Yennefer is here, but Geralt... )
He's not here, is he.
( Let him not be caught up as they are in a regret he's willing to come here for. If it's because she wants to understand him as having accepted more than she feels she can yet, or if it means he wants to be there for them, for her, in ways that being here cannot resolve. )