Alucard \\ Adrian F. Ţepeş (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cryptsleeper) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
abraxaslogs2021-09-27 05:53 pm
cryptsleeper) wrote in abraxaslogs2021-09-27 05:53 pm
[open]
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.
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.