It's not a situation that Geralt envies. His own emotional ties are murky and chaotic and he's doing his level best to not think about them because he doesn't want to deal with his own feelings right now.
She isn't here, he is and he's going to adapt to this place in his own way.
"Well, there is always drinking until you're more comfortable," he advises. It would, at least, help with the quota. "Not that it would solve your problem but I've always been fan."
Rowan huffs out a dry laugh at that. Seems the answer to everything is to take something to make it easier, whether it be aphrodisiacs or simple liquor. At least he can get behind the liquor more easily than the rest. At least he has some measure of control there.
He lifts his glass a well before finishing it off in one go.
"I guess I should become a fan of this stuff, and fast," he says, leaning against the bar, elbows propped up on the counter.
"Anyway, that's my story of misery. I'm glad you're not as bad off, from the looks of it."
"I'm a lot older than you so I've experienced more." And when he says a lot, he means a lot. He knows that he doesn't look it which is why it's always amusing to tell someone just how old he is.
"You're not that miserable." Which can also mean that he's not that pathetic. His way of thinking is different than Geralt's but that's not surprising. They're from different worlds.
He reaches for his drink and downs it easily before shrugging a shoulder. "And I think that'll be fine once you allow yourself to...have fun."
Rowan arches an eyebrow at that, because Geralt does not seem a lot older than him. But given he comes from a world where someone can be 100 and look 25, he's not going to question it too hard. Besides, adults love to tell teenagers that they don't know anything. So it could also be as simple as that: an argument for superiority that Rowan feels disinclined to fight in.
He does however huff out a dry laugh at the notion of having fun here.
"I guess..." It seems as though he's going to say more, expand that comment. But he doesn't know what he's going to say really. Not the truth. So he shakes his head and says, "I don't know the first thing about fun in this place. But I guess finding a job and settling in is step one."
"It's a distraction even if it's not fun. It gives you something to do."
And maybe that means he won't be so up in his own head about everything. That's what Geralt thinks is really holding him down. He's overthinking some more simplistic things. There's no real easy solution to that.
Geralt would go fuck or kill something or maybe both if he needed to get his head on straight but that's not really an option here.
"You need to find something that takes you out of your own head. It's different for everyone."
Rowan considers that, getting out of his head and how to do it. He had never really had to do so back home, not when he was just a regular kid and definitely not when he was an apprentice.
He huffs out a laugh when he realizes what the closest thing he knows is to that. Namely, jumping off a building.
"I guess I'll just have to figure out what works for me," he says, still smiling. "It's not something I've really had reason to figure out before. Maybe it is as simple as getting drunk."
"Getting drunk works for me," Geralt says and raises his glass, toasting Rowan's words. It's not perfect and the escape is temporary but sometimes you can have a good few hours where you don't remember anything that's bothering you.
He hasn't been left down by it, yet, which is why he's going to continue to do it. It's a foolproof coping mechanism.
"And if you need something else to do, come find me and I'll throw a sword at you," he says, only half joking.
Rowan lifts his eyebrows with marked interest at that. Geralt has a vaguely joking tone to him, so Rowan feels the need to be a little emphatic.
"No, seriously. Any time you want to throw a sword at me, I'm there."
He probably shouldn't be too eager, but the fact is he's getting antsy, uncomfortable, and getting out of his head sometimes means being what Goddard made him: a weapon.
Well, that's an eager answer, isn't it? Geralt lifts one eyebrow, looking at Rowan in a new light. He either has a death wish (which Geralt doesn't think is true) or he's a swordsman himself and he wants to test his skills.
"I never drink and swing a sword," he says though it's a lie. He has a very high constitution so having a few drinks doesn't have much effect on him especially when he's working.
Coin is a powerful motivator.
"If you want me to throw swords at you, I'd be happy to."
"Yeah, definitely." His grin is a little too excited, something lighting up in his eyes. It's one thing to kill, to target and to hunt down and to destroy. It's another thing to spar, in a friendly manner, with someone who might just be his equal. Maybe even better. Rowan doesn't mind getting his ass kicked sometimes.
"Some other time," he says, nodding. He doesn't even have his swords and he's decided to spend this night drinking either here or elsewhere so his swords will stay where they are.
"I've heard of the Arena," he says. He hasn't been there, not yet, but it's on his list of places to go. "Let me know when and I'll gladly throw a sword at you."
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She isn't here, he is and he's going to adapt to this place in his own way.
"Well, there is always drinking until you're more comfortable," he advises. It would, at least, help with the quota. "Not that it would solve your problem but I've always been fan."
He smiles, lifting his glass.
no subject
He lifts his glass a well before finishing it off in one go.
"I guess I should become a fan of this stuff, and fast," he says, leaning against the bar, elbows propped up on the counter.
"Anyway, that's my story of misery. I'm glad you're not as bad off, from the looks of it."
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"You're not that miserable." Which can also mean that he's not that pathetic. His way of thinking is different than Geralt's but that's not surprising. They're from different worlds.
He reaches for his drink and downs it easily before shrugging a shoulder. "And I think that'll be fine once you allow yourself to...have fun."
Or whatever you want to call it.
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He does however huff out a dry laugh at the notion of having fun here.
"I guess..." It seems as though he's going to say more, expand that comment. But he doesn't know what he's going to say really. Not the truth. So he shakes his head and says, "I don't know the first thing about fun in this place. But I guess finding a job and settling in is step one."
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And maybe that means he won't be so up in his own head about everything. That's what Geralt thinks is really holding him down. He's overthinking some more simplistic things. There's no real easy solution to that.
Geralt would go fuck or kill something or maybe both if he needed to get his head on straight but that's not really an option here.
"You need to find something that takes you out of your own head. It's different for everyone."
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He huffs out a laugh when he realizes what the closest thing he knows is to that. Namely, jumping off a building.
"I guess I'll just have to figure out what works for me," he says, still smiling. "It's not something I've really had reason to figure out before. Maybe it is as simple as getting drunk."
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He hasn't been left down by it, yet, which is why he's going to continue to do it. It's a foolproof coping mechanism.
"And if you need something else to do, come find me and I'll throw a sword at you," he says, only half joking.
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"No, seriously. Any time you want to throw a sword at me, I'm there."
He probably shouldn't be too eager, but the fact is he's getting antsy, uncomfortable, and getting out of his head sometimes means being what Goddard made him: a weapon.
"Just... maybe not with alcohol."
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"I never drink and swing a sword," he says though it's a lie. He has a very high constitution so having a few drinks doesn't have much effect on him especially when he's working.
Coin is a powerful motivator.
"If you want me to throw swords at you, I'd be happy to."
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"Maybe the Arena or something? Some other time."
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"I've heard of the Arena," he says. He hasn't been there, not yet, but it's on his list of places to go. "Let me know when and I'll gladly throw a sword at you."
Maybe even two swords.