abraxaslogs | [open; July adventures]

You don't have to speak of me that highly.

[It's very low hanging fruit and hardly true - Alucard is aware he is endowed with good looks - but it is the joke that is important.

He leans in, considering Astarion's words.]

The noses and jawline have the least amount of variation. I'd say family over the stages of life. There's no progress in the aging here.

[Goddamnit.

Alucard lets out a laugh. He can't help it.]

I could use one for building projects, I know that much.

[He's being obtuse just for the reaction, he knows what you mean buddy.]

[ He rolls his eyes, though there's a slight curve of his lips to indicate his own amusement at this silly little back and forth. You wouldn't know that just earlier he'd been so tense about being in this nocturnal city. ]

Now there's an idea! More arms for Viktor's burly, friend-shaped machine. And a handsome face, as well! But - let's say only the one head, an entire family's worth will likely be a hard sell -

[ As though Viktor would agree to any of this. Astarion doesn't wait for a reply before moving on to the next piece on display - and this is exactly the kind of low effort abstract nonsense he detests: one half of the frame displays the actual ruined canvas, while the other is someone's attempt at... interpreting it? If only they had another reference. ]

No.

[ That's all he says before moving on. ]

Edited 2024-07-19 19:09 (UTC)

Do you have any idea how much I want that thing to have a more expressive face? To be more approachable? I think we'd sell him on the arms part first just because it'd be more ways to be productive rather than adding to the robot's aesthetics.

[Viktor is going to 200% hate this, they should present this very seriously.

The next piece is.

Yeah.]

Agreed.

[What catches Alucard's eye next is arguably something that would be suited to Astarion's tastes. It's a large scale oil painting depicting a scene of some great battle in the middle of the night.

Or it would be, if there were not clear marks of destruction over the wood panel it has been painted on. There is a large gap in the center marking the loss, but it has been covered by fabric. Fabric attached to the wood, and then so, so carefully holding up embroidery that tries to fill in the figures and action that have been lost to whatever fire ate it first.

The work is delicate. It captures expressions. Colors. Somewhere Alucard breathes out the word remarkable.]

Shall we put together a proper presentation when we return?

[ He's still mostly teasing, as funny as it would be he wouldn't want to waste doing all that design work just for Viktor to glower at them over it. But, maybe Alucard's right about the arms...

The next piece is particularly suited to his tastes, though it takes him a moment and a much closer look to realize it for himself. Pointed ears catch Alucard's softly spoken commentary, and he cocks his head to one side as he gets as close to the center fabric as he can without actually touching anything. ]

Hells, the joints in my hands ache just looking at this...

[ It's not a criticism. Up close the embroidered shapes lose their detail, but only a skillful, careful hand could've done this work, deserved of his admiration as someone else who has had to make gold from straw - at least from a distance. His own work pales, truthfully, to the one who stitched this, and for a moment he wonders if the threads hadn't been painted after the fact - but no, the colors had to be pre-selected before they were stitched in. ]

Yes. He's going to hate it. We lead with the arms.

[Alucard may be serious about this. He may not be. It'll be on Astarion to decide if they need to double down or just let it be a flight of fancy.

He isn't surprised that Astarion's thoughts immediately go to the actual time and effort put in to produce something like this. Alucard has wondered where the desire to do needlework came from in his friend, nor has there been a good chance to ask.

There's a faint temptation here to see if this has been sold. It probably has, given that the piece is historic and neither of them have the knowledge to appreciate it properly.]

I suppose if you have all the time in the world, you can pace yourself. [Still.] How long have you been doing your work for?

[ Astarion gives another sharp but genuine laugh at the agreement, serious or not, but most of his attention is still on the work in front of him - until Alucard asks his question.

He frowns, taking a small step back from the artwork and folding his arms over his chest. ]

For about as long as I can remember. [ He says this with a shrug because, well, any statement about memory from him is a loaded one. His gaze turns distant, frown deepening. ] Our master wouldn't have us stalking around the streets looking completely haggard, mind you - [ an eye roll, followed by a scowl ] - but any minor repairs needed had to be done by my own hand. So, I learned. And... enjoyment did follow, eventually...

[ A hobby, although it's difficult to call it one. ]

[Alucard can accept that there's some fuzzy detail to the memory. It isn't a surprise, given everything he understands of Astarion's past.]

I can see how it'd keep the hands and minds busy. And you're better than many I've seen here. [Or himself, truth be told.] For a moment, I thought you were going to tell me it had to do with the stitch count itself.

[ He'll accept the flattery. And a slight redirect of the topic, away from himself: ]

Do you have any artistic pursuits?

[ Besides the architecture business, of course. ]

I'd consider food to be borderline. And I have dabbled a bit in needlework, although I feel my skillset is middling. [There's a small shrug.]

I've found it strangely easier to help do the organizing bits for others so they can focus on their work.

A vampire chef - what a concept. [ He gives a small shrug - to each their own. Especially to each who still have normal, functioning tastebuds when it comes to anything but blood. He's not particularly bitter about this one, at least not right now. He's actually remained in quite a decent mood. ]

So you enjoy managing people.

--Enjoy? No. But I think of it as building architecture for them? [The way Alucard's voice goes up makes it clear he's absolutely never thought about this for more than five seconds until now. He pauses, trying to make sense of the sudden thought.]

No, it's more...erecting scaffolding and support so they can focus on the important parts, I suppose. I've just been doing more of it lately because of current events, and the fact that I'm loathe to be overidentified with architecture itself after our last misadventure with that fucking rock.

[ Astarion hums, a little tickled by the way Alucard is working this out aloud. And he supposes if he squints he can see what he means by that metaphor. ]

Because of...?

[ He waggles a finger, indicating the change Alucard received upon returning. ]

Well - in that case, I can't say I blame you. Although, despite the lack of consent that came with all of that - there's something rather beautiful about it. I think.

[Alucard nods in confirmation. It's nice, not having to say that part out loud. The offending finger also wiggles, but--

--Okay there's only one way to diffuse the sudden onset of revelation here, and he's going to take it.]

What, the finger? All of myself? Because both of those are only slightly true observations. I'm looking at the more radical and beautiful transformation.

[Regardless of how that statement is taken, Alucard's bought himself some processing time. The words are warm though, even if it is all in his own sad attempts at deflection.]

[ Astarion raises an eyebrow, then scoffs, rolling his eyes in his own attempts to deflect. He acts as though he loves to be bathed in compliments - and that's true, for the most part, but there is... something that makes him hesitate with Alucard now. Something that - whether the man is being earnest or deflecting himself, is best not to encourage right now, lest anyone end up hurt. ]

Why, no - the art of course! [ With a wave of his hand to indicate the gallery, the theme itself. But he can't help but grin as he turns, leading them back out. ] Come on. There's an alchemy shop down the street that was advertising perfumes I'd like to sample...

[ And off he goes! ]

[open; July adventures]

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we can wrap soon if this gets too chitchatty!

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