[open]

[cryptsleeper]

WHO: Alucard and open
WHAT: Fashioning one's way out of depression, autumn work, the Horizon
WHERE: The Free City of Cadens, Alucard's Domain
WHEN: Mid through end of September



CADENS
The day shift
[Alucard has not found work that comes easy to him. The city has too many people, and he is not a man made for such density. In walking around the place, he feels eyes on him everywhere. Not that there's anything about him that should stick out - he wears nothing more than black pants and a dark color shirt, his hair flowing freely as he walks.

Most days, he has a cart. Or has boxes in his arms. Anonymous labor that pays enough, and his ability to carry more than it appears he ought to helps.

Maybe you've caught him en route from a delivery, eyes hardly visible over towering boxes.]

Move, this assortment doesn't make for easy navigation.

The museum
--I wonder how many of these remain.

[Taxidermy again. This is the dhampir's second time at the museum, but he finds himself looking at the dead things behind glass cases again. There are seemingly endless vitrines of them, within them familiar and strange things.

Today, he stares down at a scorpion the size of a terrier. The claws are massive, the tail is curled. Yet he can't help but look at it with a more gentle consideration, before his eyes move to the at mounted just above it. A tiny thing whose teeth are on full display.

He leans in, examining them carefully.]

Very sharp, I see.

The night shift
[He and Hector have managed to stay at the same place since arriving. Alucard is quiet. Pays for his own room after Hector gave the first round. Sometimes he sits in the corner rather than retreat to his room, a book in his lap or else eyes watching everything quietly.

Tonight, a book. Tonight a--

--an issue.]

Your shadow is casting in my light. Please move left.

[Never mind that his eye sight is fine. Alucard knows to put on certain appearances.]


ALUCARD'S DOMAIN
[Alucard's domain sits, a dreary November's day. A few leaves in their rich rusty reds, golden yellows, and blazing oranges cling to trees that have long since accepted winter's onset, and fog covers the forest paths - such as they are. Long, damp paths lead this way and that, but never to the domain's heart.

Until one does, the True Path hard to determine but presenting itself eventually. It leads through thick trees, their branches too close and threatening to brush the top of one's head. Their density doesn't clear until it feels as if the walk has gone on for too long, and only then is the single dwelling within the domain apparent.

The building is simple. It can't be bigger than a few dozen feet by a few dozen feet. The roofing is solid, the exterior made of dark grey stone. Smoke sneaks out from the chimney, and near the door, a man in simple trousers and white tunic, chopping wood.

He looks up when he senses eyes on him. Scowls.]

See yourself out.

Comments

Closed to Hector

[cryptsleeper]

--Move, I need to get to the material behind you.

[Four days ago, the dhampir bought a coat. A black one, made of finer material than he should be able to afford, but much too plain. Three days ago, the dhampir put chalk to the fabric and sketched a design. Then he went out and bought embroidery thread in silver and gold.

Two days ago, he started to outline a spine and rib cage in silver colored thread (not from real silver, he'd have a reaction otherwise.)

Tonight, he finished the outline. Tonight, he has taken the gold colored thread and begun to fill in the outline, starting with the vast expanse of the spine. Tonight, he abuses the natural ability of a dhampir to move too fast, and he's run out of his first spool of thread. From his spot on the floor, Hector is blocking access to the bag which has more thread.]

Or else reach in and grab me a second spool.

[petcromancer]

[Alucard may move inhumanely fast, but Hector is human and takes his damn time. He's left Alucard to his own devices with his little project up until now, but he finally allows himself to take a good look at it.

He leans back and digs for a spool of thread in the bag to toss Alucard's way.]

Make sure you add the right number of vertebrae. That would be embarrassing to get it wrong.

[He's used to vampire fashion sense, having been dressed up by two separate vampire factions. Nothing surprises him anymore, and spending over a month rooming with Harrow and Gideon, he's got higher standards about decorative bonewear.]

[cryptsleeper]

Accuracy isn't the point, Hector.

[The dhampir does not pick his head up from the work, needle finally coming to an end as the last of the thread well and truly threatens to run out.]

At least not for this pass. This requires layers, and as such, this is only the background to the rest.

[petcromancer]

Of course it is. I can give you pointers if you need.

[Did dhampirs have a standard number of bones? Who would know? A Belmont in their creepy murder archives, is who.

He rifles through the bag of notions to see what sort of buttons or clasps Alucard has chosen for his ridiculous coat that Hector isn't the least bit jealous of.]

Is this it? You're not doing all that work and keeping those boring buttons, are you?

[cryptsleeper]

Let me build the first two layers. The detailing will begin in the third.

[oh you mean the archives alucard's in charge of now?

Alucard rethreads the needle with the new thread. Breathes out. Then resumes the work.]

I'm waiting to see what color needs accenting before I put final buttons on. Everything in the bag is just thread. [Alucard isn't a sewing machine, but boy, he's trying to be.] Why do you ask?

[petcromancer]

[Alright, just don't expect Hector to go easy on the teasing if you forget, Alucard.]

You need something suitable. They're not hard to make, I don't know why so many people settle for plain buttons.

[This coming from a man who, left to his own devices, dresses like a peasant.]

[cryptsleeper]

I'm listening.

[There's no harm in it! Under Alucard's flashy coats he's a Basic Bitch, after all.]

You clearly have particulars in mind.

october; post jaskier disaster

[gynvael]

[ It's not that he's exactly moved, but they have all piled into Sam's house for the time being, seeing as that's where Jaskier is recovering. Alina, he suspects, prefers Ciri's company after Mal's vanishing on top of that, so. Here they are. Geralt does not necessarily dislike it, but he's also far less used to any sort of company. Besides—

He did mean to keep looking into Mal. Then this shit. He's been reluctant to leave the city again, which makes investigating difficult. Which also makes him restless.

Hence. He's here. In a...museum. Apparently. If he can't be hunting out there, he may as well learn about what exists in this world. He's aware Alucard is around now and again, and though he isn't looking for him in particular, he's curious if he'll find him. Eventually, he does, as Geralt's rounding a corner towards the glass cases. ]

At least one. [ Geralt leans against a stone pillar. His eyes are on the creature's pincers. ] Up until a week ago.

[ No one looks to him to preserve the local wildlife. And maybe it shouldn't have tried to take off his fucking hand. ]

[cryptsleeper]

--Is that so?

[Alucard straightens up from peering into the case, eyes moving to Geralt's. It has been a little while since they last spoke, and if the dhampir is being candid, he didn't expect to see him here of all places. Something about Geralt doesn't give him a museum vibe, even if it is logical that he might find the animal exhibits useful for hunting.

He moves over a little, should Geralt wish to join him.]

[gynvael]

[ He looks—better. The vampire, that is, though Geralt doesn't know if it means their talk helped or if Alucard's just taken to burying himself in books and exhibits.

Geralt, conversely, looks like he's hasn't slept in a week. May have been a day or two since his hair last met a brush. He'd meant to look in on Alucard, in truth, but. Certain distractions arose. (He still doesn't know what the fuck to do.) ]

Mm-hmm. [ He does join him. Alucard is removed from the current problems awaiting him back home, which makes him ideal company. ] Few miles out in the hills. Don't sleep with your hand exposed, if you're making camp.

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard would laugh if he was told he looked better. The only reason he probably looks less like garbage is simply from not being in prison constantly. He's been eating. Hardly anything remarkable. He's gotten better clothes too - the trousers are simple enough, as is the shirt underneath. The real flair is in the coat he wears, the embroidered embellishments having been finished only a few days ago. From the front, the coat's buttons are hidden among ribs, outlined in gold and given texture through layers upon layers of pale silver and ivory thread. The ribs wrap around him, and the same effect extends down his back, outlining vertebrae in the same manner. (It is not an entirely correct anatomical model, but it doesn't need to be, no matter what Hector says.) The coat's remaining plainness only serves to highly the handiwork.]

I'm not exactly inclined to sleep in a desert in the first place, but noted.

[The dhampir pauses though, gold eyes taking a second look at the Witcher in front of him.] Are you sleeping?

[gynvael]

[ The embellished clothes certainly don't hurt. Normally, Geralt would ask, maybe even tease, but he's not inclined to at the moment. His expression suggests he would rather not answer questions about his current sleeping habits. He's fine. He hasn't got need for sleep, in any case, and Sam gives him enough shit about it as it is.

But. As far as he's aware, Alucard and Jaskier have become acquainted. And Jaskier has definitely been acquainted with Hector. Perhaps they should know the bard's been laid up for the past few days. ]

Jaskier's been... [ He shifts his weight. ] Recovering. There was an incident.

[cryptsleeper]

[Acquainted and Alucard accidentally saw his dick. (This seems normalish given Jaskier though.) But mostly Alucard knows the bard through whatever the hell he and Hector are classifying themselves as. He's not inclined to ask specifics about that.]

An extensive incident. [Recovering means that is was a bad one. Great.] Was it seen by anyone else?

For Jaskier

[cryptsleeper]

[Deserts, Alucard has concluded, are goddamn awful for stew.

Hunting desert rabbit as a wolf? Fine. The usual work of skinning and deboning? Also fine. But the consideration of how collagen rich, heavy stews might be on the tongue in the dry heat had only occurred to him after he looked at the rabbit in front of him and realized the flavor profile needed some careful reconsideration. Braising the stuff in enough fat and using only broth would lighten it, and more powerful spices might do the heavy lifting. Hearty and filling, but not so inappropriate for the environment.

Why Alucard is doing this is something he's not clear about himself. Something as simple as making up for the grapes and the wine not being real, most likely. The rest is needing to keep his hand and mind busy when there are no odd jobs.

It doesn't matter, probably. He picks an odd time (3 in the afternoon on a week day) to visit, rabbit conveyed in a simple terra cotta pot with matching lid. (Dirt cheap in the market.) Simple to warm up beside a fire, and with luck, the bard will be resting. No people contact, no note, just delivery

At least that's the plan as Alucard places the extremely old fashioned delivery box down beside Jaskier's door, ears alert to determine if he really is resting.]

[cointosser]

[Unfortunately for Alucard, there has not been a day in Jaskier's (conscious, waking) life where he has stayed still and rested. To his credit, he rested enough that he healed properly. He isn't after ways to make things worse on himself. Er. Mostly.

It's simply... he's antsy, and he's sort of embarrassed about the whole thing, and deeply reminded that he is not, in fact, a master of magic.

Not that he pretended to be, yet -- gods, he hadn't imagined it would go that badly.

So if he's going to be stuck inside for longer than he'd like, he's taken to walking around with a book in hand, reading it out loud to himself. For at least a week, his voice had gone in and out, recovering from... well, from the feeling of a vine crushing his throat, though it had not touched him. It's just between one sentence and the next, dry material on the founding of Cadens, where he looks up, a passing form by the window. Company!

Desperation for another living, breathing soul in his vicinity quickens his step to a level that is not warranted. He opens the door with a flourish, a little jump in his heart. He misses company. And running about! And talking to people who do not feel obligated with guilt to speak with him!

He pauses. It's not who he expects.]

Oh! Alucard.

[Easy to assume it was Geralt, as always. With something with him.

Jaskier suddenly smiles with a bit of a knowing look. Alucard would probably not like to hear it, but he reminds him of Geralt in some ways. Though it's not the company he was expecting, Jaskier is no less pleased to see him. (To see he isn't asleep in a coffin somewhere.)] Trying to sneak off before your act of kindness was discovered?

[Unfortunately his words don't have the energy they've always had before, but he's certainly putting effort into appearing as if nothing is bothering him.]

[cryptsleeper]

--Ah.

[Alucard manages not to look like a deer in the headlights, although it's a very near miss. He straightens up, and he's fairly relieved he doesn't have his coat on right now. (Sypha called him a salmon, Jaskier would probably get creative as well.) It's just a dressed down dhampir with food on the floor beside him, being gently mortified at being caught doing something nice.]

Trying to ensure that if you were at rest, you remained at rest, actually.

[It is a good save, as far as he's concerned. Either way, Alucard takes a step back, assuming that if the bard has enough energy to be up and about, he can probably pick up food in a pot.]

[cointosser]

[Ah, yes. He certainly guessed right.]

Oh, wonderful. A second mother hen to peck at me and make sure I don't die from walking. [He gives Alucard a teasing smile, though -- it's said more than affectionately. Jaskier is the last to complain about anyone paying attention to him, especially when it was all doting and, apparently, gifts.

He lifted the pot with an oof. That was. Heavy. Or was he still so weak? Shit. Hopefully not.]

Are you in such a hurry I shouldn't invite you in? I know you must be awaiting my reaction to whatever mysterious thing you've brought me. [He sniffed.] It does smell lovely, though.

[cryptsleeper]

You seem pointedly alive so far.

[Alucard pretends he didn't hear the oof, if only to give Jaskier the luxury of pretending that things are all better. Still, he offers one hand out for the pot, just in case the bard would rather foist the duty off onto the dhampir while he's here.]

Unless you're going to complain about braised rabbit, I can probably live under the assumption that I did an excellent job in cooking it. [Lovely though. He'll go with that, and there's a contented note in his voice for it.] It should be smoky without too much spice, as I found a paprika similar to what I'm accustomed to at home. A full stew seemed like it'd be overkill for the environment.

[It's probably the least miserable Alucard's ever sounded. He likes food, and it's a safe topic to discuss.]

[cointosser]

[See, this is why he appreciates Alucard. And, after a moment of deliberation, he does allow Alucard to take it. He would be distraught if he dropped it. Especially if he dropped it right in front of him. He's dropped enough things in front of him to last a lifetime.]

Braised rabbit! Are you kidding? Who on earth would be so stupid to complain? [He holds the door for him to step inside, offering plenty of counterspace to place the pot. Rabbit. His favorite. Certainly one of his favorites; a gentle smell that makes him think of home, in the mountains, with the stars above and a campfire between them.

Jaskier's eyes glimmer.] A regular chef, aren't you? You make it sound even better than it smells. [Which is to say, fantastic. Though he's been managing broth and, albeit slowly, a sandwich, this is the first time his appetite has swarmed him all at once.] You really shouldn't have. Thank you, Alucard.

[Placed down, he wastes no time in lifting the lid and inhaling.

Oh. Yes.]

I shan't even ask how you knew. Plenty of gossiping mouths in our circles. [Now he is very glad they keep so much bread here, considering its cheap price. Something to soak up those juices.] I must admit, you've made me feel far more alive than I have in days already.

horizon, mid-october.

[wiedzminka]

And here I thought you wanted me to find you when I had news pertaining to both our interests.

[ Ciri hops off her glossy black mare, giving the horse a fond rub on the side of her neck as if in thanks. She steps closer, reins in hand. With her other hand, she offers a wave in greeting. ]

I've a swordsmith to recommend, my good sir dhampir. No need for all that scowling.

[cryptsleeper]

[The only other person who's brought a horse through here in the past has been Geralt. Perhaps Alucard should have anticipated the same from Ciri. Regardless, it is with some dry amusement that he notes her horse is the inverse of Geralt's equine companion.

More than that, she comes with news. He nods once, then reaches behind himself to open the door.]

Apologies. Please come in.

[The door opens quietly, no squeaks or squeals. What lies within is a kitchen and a small hearth, fire crackling away.]

Seat yourself, I'll get bread and salt.

[wiedzminka]

Should I tie Kelpie up or leave her free to graze?

[ Ciri indicates the horse, not entirely sure if Alucard's domain will try to... swallow her up or kick her out or something. It hadn't been entirely friendly coming in.

Once the mare is taken care of to Alucard's recommendation, Ciri follows him inside the cottage. It's cozy. Somehow, she hadn't expected that -- but Alucard has already scolded her against having vampire prejudices, so she keeps this to herself with a faint smile.

Oddly enough, he reminds her of Geralt. Just a bit. Gruff, to the point, unwelcoming or even frightening at first blush, but with a little digging and persistence, revealing more beneath the surface than they probably think can be seen. ]

Appreciate it. [ Ciri takes a seat at the invitation, rocking back on the back legs of her chair idly as she watches him. ] Nice place.

[cryptsleeper]

If she stays within the vicinity of the house, she'll be fine. It's only people this place is meant to redirect.

[Meaning horses are absolutely fine. And friends, rather than things to be worried about.

Cozy is the point, meant just for himself rather than guests though. Alucard's been annoyed at the number of people willing to ignore the forest and seek him out, but that doesn't mean he fails the hospitality that has been instilled upon him. With Ciri seated, he goes to the breadbox and tears off a few sizeable hunks, and brings that over with a small salt cellar.

He sits, but only after he's placed both near Ciri.]

Thank you. You were saying about swords?

[wiedzminka]

[ That's a relief. Kelpie will happily graze, in that case. The Horizon version of her is a little less prone to wandering off than the real one had been but just as loyal -- a wild and free spirit Ciri sorely misses -- so she won't get into trouble. Ciri has made her as well as she can, but she's a construct; she'll stay near her master.

Once they're settled, Ciri helps herself to bread and salt more out of politeness than hunger, and for something for her hands to do. ]

That's right. I can show you where if you've some paper to draw on. I put in my order, though it'll be some days before it's finished. If you like, I'll show you the end result and you can decide how you like the craftsmanship.

I'll be keen on trying out the blade too. If you're not afraid of a little sparring match.

[cryptsleeper]

[Kelpie is free to whatever she can find, although with all the late autumnal grass, there may not be much. Alucard himself has rarely found use for horses though, ever reliant on his own skills.]

I'd be interested in the location, as well as the turn around time on the commissioned piece. [Craftsmanship and speed are rarely good bed fellows, but to have something sooner rather than later...

...Fuck, he's supposed to be saving up for a crypt.]

Would you be providing a second weapon for such a match?