[Hound?! Alucard lets out a little snort of disapproval, not that he expects it to be heard over Ciri verbally barging in.
The printer doesn't move to let Ciri pass until she gives the duo an appraising look.]
You're minimally covered in sand from everything going on out there, so come in. Can you get Fluffy to shake his coat out, just to be sure?
[Alucard's nose wrinkles. Fluffy is, in fact, more insulting. But he does it anyway, because frankly, he would like to protest at some of these insults.
Once good ol' Fluffy has done as asked, the printer moves aside. Alucard's nose returns to the ground.]
We're delicately balanced here, so if your leosylph's lurking someplace, I'll be the one moving things out of the way. Fair?
[The print shop is large and well lit, with several presses of different sizes and printing mechanisms dominating the floor. Rows upon rows of type line the walls, with just enough gaps at the bottom of the drawers for a good little leosylph to hide. A deep, wide sink sits in the far corner where another woman stands beside it, dipping paper into a bath covered in paints, making marbled papers. Ink, it seems, is kept near by, all neatly labeled. Runs of clothes lines sit on the opposite side of the shop drying, all meant to advertise a new play in Libertas.
Alucard huffs gently at one of the smaller printing presses, one that has a number of gears at the bottom meant to allow for a crank to be turned continuously to make prints. He pauses, then shakes his fur out, taking the moment to transform. Fuck it, he needs vocal chords.]
no subject
The printer doesn't move to let Ciri pass until she gives the duo an appraising look.]
You're minimally covered in sand from everything going on out there, so come in. Can you get Fluffy to shake his coat out, just to be sure?
[Alucard's nose wrinkles. Fluffy is, in fact, more insulting. But he does it anyway, because frankly, he would like to protest at some of these insults.
Once good ol' Fluffy has done as asked, the printer moves aside. Alucard's nose returns to the ground.]
We're delicately balanced here, so if your leosylph's lurking someplace, I'll be the one moving things out of the way. Fair?
[The print shop is large and well lit, with several presses of different sizes and printing mechanisms dominating the floor. Rows upon rows of type line the walls, with just enough gaps at the bottom of the drawers for a good little leosylph to hide. A deep, wide sink sits in the far corner where another woman stands beside it, dipping paper into a bath covered in paints, making marbled papers. Ink, it seems, is kept near by, all neatly labeled. Runs of clothes lines sit on the opposite side of the shop drying, all meant to advertise a new play in Libertas.
Alucard huffs gently at one of the smaller printing presses, one that has a number of gears at the bottom meant to allow for a crank to be turned continuously to make prints. He pauses, then shakes his fur out, taking the moment to transform. Fuck it, he needs vocal chords.]
Over here.