[October Catch-All]

[cryptsleeper]

Who: Alucard + Open
When: Pre-Event October
Where: The Free Cities; Nocwich
What: Horizon, Nocwich shopping, some graveyard work in the Free Cities
Warnings: None

Comments

OPEN | Horizon

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard’s Horizon is usually a quiet space, enveloped in a deep autumnal wood. Today though, there are birds.

Well.

Crows.

The dhampir stands in a clearing of the forest, listening to them caw-caw-caw. Frowns, considering their cries. His observation is dry, said to no one in particular.]

Perhaps they are not the most welcoming of birds...

OPEN | Oleuni Square

[cryptsleeper]

[There will be time to go to Ikorr and Luna. Alucard knows this, but he also knows that the situation across Abraxas right now is tense, given the recent flare ups of violence among the three major territories that want a say in the fate of the Singularity. He remembers the alliance Luna and Solvunn made in the reality that never was as well, and so it feels pertinent to see what were-folk and undead alike make of it all.

He knows there’s easier ways of finding out. Alucard could go to Luna and ask Sten for an hour or so of the man’s time and offer baked goods for the trouble. But that’d be a candid official version, not a raw thing. For that, the best method of information gathering is eavesdropping, and a market center is the best place for it.

Alucard has settled outside if the wine shop he has a particular enjoyment of, and it sits at the edge of the market stalls. What he hears is...nothing.

And he exhales, disappointed.

Should anyone familiar approach (or even wholly alien), the look Alucard wears on his face is a careful look of disinterest at the world around him, and instead a focus on the tasting notes notebook in his lap.]

--Apologies, am I blocking the entrance?

[preyed]

[ Alucard isn't the only one looking for information.

Though it's only been a few days for her, Sebille has skulked many a shadow in the hopes of simply better understanding this world. And when she'd heard of Nochwich and neutral territory, she'd hurried along before she missed the opportunity to gleam anything from those unaffiliated with the territories. And it is here she's stayed, enjoying the ever-present night and a closeness to the forest that the Free Cities cannot offer. But information here is just as difficult to come by without proper payment or enough trust, and she has little of former and none of the latter.

Instead, she roams the stalls today and listens to the sound of trade, the clinking of coins, bartering. She should consider it a gift to at least have a taste of the culture and to understand more and more but it's not enough. Her gait barely containing a restless edge as she wanders towards the end of the stalls, watching the people, looking intermittently at the businesses.

And then to the man who speaks, whom she's paused near while she looks at the wine shop behind him. Her brows lift, considering him. ] No, not at all. I'm surprised it isn't so crowded, though.

[ The shop, she means; the markets are buzzing faintly with activity but not so loud to be a ruckus. But the shop itself seems quiet and quaint, a stark contrast to the gambling dens she's wandered by the day before. Her gaze skims the book but pays it little mind for the moment, settling instead on him. ]

Found anything nice to sample here? [ Not like she can afford a whole bottle after all. ]

[cryptsleeper]

You never know how chairs can decide to migrate on their own.

[His statement is dry, aiming for a very understate humor. Such as it is, Alucard is aware he is a little too close to the door, and that has been done on purpose, in hopes of overhearing something worth ducking into the shop for.

No dice. Just the usual requests for recommendations with rote responses that the dhampir has committed to memory ages ago.]

The crowds will rise again in due time, there's always some ebb and flow during the square's open hours. We're a day and a half out from closing. Tomorrow morning will be the busiest.

[Morning elsewhere, he means. Nocwich's eternal night just relies on clock.]

I finished a rather good glass of fortified bloodwine with blackberry, but it is not to everyone's taste.

[Clarifying the blood part is not something Alucard would typically do, but this is a new face and no one appreciates surprise blood unless they're a vampire.]

[preyed]

[ She huffs something like a laugh, brow lifting. ]

A shame they can't do so on command. A business would pay a pretty penny to be able to foist trouble out without having to lift a finger.

[ Her gaze lifts to the streets and the market once more, considering. With care, she leans up against the doorway, observing the people coming and going through the stalls, weaving their way. And it might get even more crowded? She might consider getting back here early, then.

She's about to ask something else when he speaks again, and she doesn't quite manage to catch her surprise from seeping into her expression. She wrestles with the word - not in disgust but like she's sampling it, wondering whether it's a joke or not. And, at last, she gives a little shrug.

It's not like she can judge, can she, when she's tasted blood too. ]

I imagine something like that would be a delicacy around here. [ What with Ikorr being here. She's at least taken the time to somewhat understand where she's wandered. ] Ah, well. It wouldn't hurt to try something new, right? If you've steered me wrong, though, I've every right to ask for you to foot the bill.

[ It's said with a little mirth in her eye as she steps just inside the shop to ask for a glass, though she has no intention of sitting within. Not when she has someone to bother. ]

I don't suppose you live here, do you? [ Whether she means in Nochwich or in the world as a whole is anyone's guess, left purposely open. ]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard pauses, seeming to take the comment very seriously.]

I imagine with a little bit of magic, it is plausible. Just not advisable.

[Enchanting a few chairs would be fairly straight forward compared to some of the other magic he's seen over the past four years. If anything, it'd be a fun experiment, especially if the chairs seemed to have eyes or other alive looking features.

He's not surprised that the clarification of there being blood in the bloodwine causes some surprise. If anything, Alucard feels relieved that he clarified the primary ingredient. He knows very well that he only likes the stuff because of an already existing affinity for foods like blood sausage and his own heritage. For Astarion, it's a need met. For everyone else it's....actually, Alucard isn't sure if there is anyone else who genuinely likes the stuff. He's just assumed that it has been consumed out of politeness on most occasions.]

Ikorr's residents enjoy experimenting with food and drink. Most of their experiments err towards the luxurious, although I do wonder if they sometimes cross the line into over engineered. [They haven't, not that Alucard's tasted. But sometimes the plating is...well, overly creative.

Alucard remains seated, although he does use his leg to push out the chair opposite of him. It is an open invitation, once the wine has been obtained.]

I reside in Cadens when this place is closed. I'd consider moving here if given the opportunity though.

[preyed]

Is that so? This is my first time visiting at all.

[ Over engineered... Something to consider, she thinks, as she's given a glass of the recommended wine. Sebille saunters back, gratefully taking the offered seat with a nod. And with a tip of the glass, she takes a small sip, and allows the taste to roll down her throat. How odd, that just two weeks ago she was on a ship and eating scraps, to wandering the wilderness with barely acquaintances and allies...to sipping fine vintage - with blood, no less - in another strange land.

It prompts another brief drink, longer, savoring. ]

You were right about the taste. It's not half-bad. [ Better than what she's had to chew on before. It's weighty and vibrant, and she lets it linger while she considers his comment, her cat-like eyes roaming upwards towards the dark sky above.

Sebille sets the glass aside for a moment. ] It certainly feels quieter here, more peaceful under the cover of night. [ She doesn't want to assume such a thing is real, though, not when she's heard enough of the three territories fighting out their squabbles for power. Even somewhere like this is likely affected. ] Why do they keep it closed for most of the month, though? Is there trouble?

[cryptsleeper]

You're very new then.

[It isn't a question, it is confirming a suspicion. Alucard's tone is neutral and polite, focused on simply getting a sense of who he is now speaking with.

He's polite enough to not look at Sebille as she experiments with the wine, assuming that there's really nothing more awkward than having a total stranger watch you imbibe weird wine for the first time. Alucard focuses on his own glass instead, taking the scant moment to also slip his notebook into an inner coat pocket.

There's a pleasant sound of surprise that the wine is accepted as good rather than...well, weird and feeling kind of like it tastes wrong.]

I can't say that that's the usual reaction, unless there's some vampire heritage already present. [He doesn't want to assume.]

The vampire folk of Ikorr and were-folk of Luna are not exactly the most peaceful of neighbors. The square is the first experiment in aiming for peace. Limiting it as they do I believe helps to quell politics and keep stupid fights from starting. But that is only my speculation.

[preyed]

Very new. [ Which is punctuated with another drink and a deep frown as she sets the glass down once more. ] And none too pleased to be here, though I'm certain I'm hardly the first.

[ There's frustration in the words, sardonic and unkind, but she bites down on pushing any further in that direction. It'll just bring more anger, frankly, and she's enjoying the moment. She'd prefer not to ruin it just yet. ]

No lineage, no. But my people-- [ Hm, how does she put it? It might be best not to mention the fleshy parts... ] Blood is important to us, in a way. It holds our knowledge, our memories. I wouldn't seek it out like this under normal circumstances...but there's nothing normal about any of this, is there?

[ So why not be a little open, even if it means doing something strange? She's among creatures of the dark, after all. ]

Just like it doesn't sound like much is normal in this territory either. The quiet gives the impression their experiment is working, somewhat. [ But once the portals close, is that still true? ] What would make you want to stay here over Cadens?

[ A pause. ] Besides the dreadfully terrible scenery, what with the desert and the heat and all of that.

OPEN | Graveyard, the Free Cities

[cryptsleeper]

[While the Free Cities do not experience fall in quiet the same way as the other territories do, Alucard is aware that a little more upkeep is needed as the autumn gives way. For the graveyard that he long declared a space he’d care for, this means doing smaller gardening tasks like moving away dried, dead grass, disposing of candles that have been burned to their wick and are now becoming unsightly, and ensuring that the upcoming Eifstide festivities do not harm the graves themselves.

It’s late afternoon as he does the work, donning a wide brimmed black hat (that may be more at home on the beach, but shhhh) and a pair of rough hide gloves. At a particular grave, the wax has bonded to the stone.

He has no care if anyone sees him take off one of the gloves and extended his fingernails into something more claw-like so he can scrape at the wax better. To anyone watching, he’ll look up for only a beat before returning his eyes to the task at hand..]

If you’re so intrigued, you could perhaps check the headstone next to this one for anything that needs to be thrown out.

CLOSED | Jaskier

[cryptsleeper]

[This version of a boy’s night is much more relaxed. He’s not in a lab, he and Astarion aren’t trying to accessorize a robot, and there’s less manic energy all around. It is him and Jaskier sprawled on the sofa, the bard somehow flopping on the dhampir, and a gentle buzz of wine rather than the madcap glee of a few weeks ago. Mog is....somewhere?

Alucard exhales, putting his wine glass down on the side table while trying his best not to dislodge the bard.]

You were saying about someone new--?

[cointosser]

[The only thing that could make it more relaxed is if they were sitting a giant, warm tub with his music playing in the background, but Jaskier recognizes not all periods of relaxation must require both parties to be naked.

It's preferable, but not required.

This can't wait for the perfect setup, anyway. He has gossip, and who is the only man on this side of the continent who is as dedicated to gossiping as Jaskier is? Jaskier's head has found Alucard's voluptuous thigh and is drinking wine at an angle that should be impossible to do without spilling, yet Jaskier manages to do so. He clearly has a lot of practice in it.

(Mog is currently sleeping in a desk drawer.)]

Someone beau. [He pronounces it like "boo" for the joke, but wrinkles his nose at it immediately. He is a wordsmith, but he couldn't help himself.] Beau. I mean beau. You are never going to guess who Geralt picked up out of the middle of the bloody desert. I don't suppose you've ever met a Lord John from Thorne, have you?

[No, Jaskier cannot keep secrets when it's this juicy. And no, he doesn't have to guess, the answer is right there.]

[cryptsleeper]

[Alucard is also so very much not at that level of gossip and relaxation. Give him a century, he'll have it wrangled by then.

Vaguely, Alucard calculates where Jaskier's head is at, and he hopes that Hilda doesn't walk in. He's given her an office key ages ago, and he'd never hear the end of it. Bad enough that bullying Viktor about his boyfriend became bullying the dhampir for being a recluse with no friends outside the Free Cities. He does not need that happening again.]

Hm, not your strongest wordplay. I'll chalk it up to being too comfortable. [Which is as much grace as he'll aford.]

I can't say the name is familiar. The idea of Geralt having more than one it's a long story is.

[cointosser]

I'm relaxed! It isn't all gold, you cad.

[Everyone knows that. And he isn't here to play with clever word... play... or to do anything other than be comfortable, enjoy himself, and pretend for another night that war is absolutely not on their doorstep. This is how the normal man survives in a war-torn world, thank you.]

Ugh, he's never told a good story in his life. Unfortunately, being here hasn't changed that. [He waves a hand (not holding his wine glass) as if it doesn't matter. It's why the Witcher has a bard.] All you need to know in preface is that Lord John is an upstanding man of refined tastes -- not as refined as myself, but getting there -- who was, as I understand, working in Thorne's guard. A Summoned, like us. And now... [He gestures to the rest of the world (the room) with his wine glass.] Said man shows up on our doorstep, having come all this way (illegally) between bloody factions -- a feat I thought was bloody impossible -- and is now living in my home. To be with Geralt.

[That's the punchline. Or, well, it's not so much a punchline as a "mic drop," as they say.] Geralt somehow gained the attention of a good man. It's just -- fuck, I can't believe it. Can you believe it? What on earth could he have ever said that was charming enough?

[cryptsleeper]

If I didn't make that remark, you'd be worried about me.

[Alucard grins, smug, going so far as to ruffle Jaskier's hair. Just like with Hilda, it's nice to have the reliable back-and-forth. The world makes more sense when that is the case.]

In truth, I don't know if I've heard him tell an actual story period. A blunt recitation of facts? Yes. A story? That's not like Geralt at all.

[With that, Alucard takes a sip of his own wine and listens. The name is unfamiliar, but what Jaskier describes seems like a perfectly decent man with a set of morals that Thorne stepped on. That makes sense but--

--oh, well, crossing faction lines is new.]

I'm not stuck on the charming. I'm stuck on the fact that if you spin what you just described correctly, you have an especially dramatic romance story...starring Geralt. Which makes sense to me if you went superficially or made a painting about it.

[He takes another sip of the wine.]

How's the house reacting to the new addition?

[cointosser]

[Well. True.

And, fuck, his remark about Geralt's inability to tell a story? Also true. Blast it.

Jaskier hits the couch, sudden enough that there's a thump from the desk where Mog whips his head up, following by a pathetic mewl. (He's fine. He has a head harder than his father.)] That's the fucking thing, Alucard! He's already had a dramatic romance story with Yennefer! Why did the fates decide he deserves two?!

[That's the crux of thing: what Jaskier is truly upset about. Does anyone actually appreciate how much heartbreak Jaskier himself has gone through? No! No one does!

He drains his entire cup of wine, breathing with a huff between each swallow.

Jaskier releases his breath in a huff.] Well, Mog is upset about it, but he's upset about any change that ever happens. I think the leosylph likes him. And Geralt... [Here Jaskier softens.] He looks happy. Whenever he looks at John, there's... something in his eyes. Something rare.

[cryptsleeper]

Is it that he has two, or that he is the most non-affected man in the world about either one of them and refuses to acknowledge that actually that level of drama reveals a great bit of devotion in addition to love?

[Alucard remains still while Jaskier all but chugs his wine, eyes on the bard and trying to be as mild mannered about this as he can. Jaskier needs to get through some feelings, clearly.

But he also motions for the bard to get back to where he was moments before. Which was comfy as hell.

The eyes though. Alucard lets out a low whistle.]

Oh. Now that's a look I know, and I don't even have to see it. He's in love.

[cointosser]

[Jaskier's face sours.] It's a good point, but it's still annoying.

[He's allowed to be annoyed! He's the poet, here! The troubadour! The rake! And yet all his loves were hardly loves at all, in the end. Mistakes, or disasters. Or something that had never had room to be born in the first place.

Before this world, yes. He has Nadine, but only after he had Hector. It is a give and take, and now Geralt gets to have two. At the same time. By being a man with such a low level of charisma it appears to go into the negatives.

He does settle his head back on Alucard's leg. With a huff.] He's in love. And you know he will never admit it.

CLOSED | Hilda

[cryptsleeper]

You're right, this definitely needs to be adjusted. Is it just the sleeves though, or does the torso need adjusting as well? I think I felt something bunch, but you're the better judge.

[Alucard asks it all as he rises from one of Hilda's overly comfortable office chairs, having spent the past five minutes finding new ways to lounge while spreading himself out over every available surface in the name of helping with another wardrobe fitting.

He heads over towards the workarea that Hilda's blocked out via a full length mirror and sewing supplies, aware he's jangling more than usual thanks to the garment he's helping her with.

It's a ritual, one he's gotten quite comfortable with. Things are put on, Hilda makes adjustments and sometimes stabs Alucard with pins by accident, and they variously talk too much in long rambles or they're dead silent so that Hilda can work. At some point, they finish and there's more lounging around. Sometimes Alucard's smart and brings food with him, along with something to drink.

He's not sure if this is going to be a chatty session or a quiet one. It's Hilda's work, the dhampir prefers to let her set the tone.]

[theidlemaiden]

[ While this routine is old hat for them at this point she's quieter than usual. It's something that she could easily be playing off as needing to concentrate and she doubts that Alucard would needle her too keenly about it. The structure on this garment was tricker than some of the other pieces that she usually worked on. And while she could have asked Jesper to take a look at it and help her as an easy way out (he would have been able to solve it with a snap of his fingers), this newfound sense of determination is urging her not to.

Or maybe it's not the difficulty of the garment but the sleepless nights she had been accumulating because of how hard she had been working on Geralt's commission. Or maybe it's how she knows that she needs to speak to Alucard about what had transpired between them in the dream that she had put off for months now because she simply hadn't been ready at the time.

For the record, she still isn't ready but she knows that she's put it off long enough.

While all of the above probably contribute how quiet she is today that doesn't change the fact that she still has to finish this piece for the upcoming Eifstide celebration. She pushes the screen aside so that he can step up onto the pedestal. ]

The torso will need adjusting. But it shouldn't be too much. At least I don't think so.

[ She falls silent as she waits for him to settle in place, rubbing her eyes absently as she stifles a yawn. ]

Thanks again for helping me. I know I haven't exactly been...present.

[cryptsleeper]

Let me know where you want my arms.

[Sometimes it's all the way out to the sides. Sometimes they need to dangle and do little else. On occasion, Alucard has to raise them up and keep them there for a truly numbing amount of time. For now though, he stands in front of the mirror facing away from it.]

I figured that we all needed time to digest what happened, and then there was an entire coup to contend with. Then things built upon that terrible foundation.

[It isn't something Alucard is going to call fine, don't worry about it. He has been worried and a little unsure of what to make of what happened between them. At the same time, that entire future had offered a quiet reassurance - that no matter what form their relationship took, Hilda was reliable and that it would always be okay.

And so it more or less has.]

Also, I forgot to bring wine. We'll have to steal it from the bar.

[theidlemaiden]

Keep them out to the side for now and then lower them. I'll see where the bunching is.

[ Ever since she had taken on this endeavour of designing and crafting clothing herself she had come to have a newfound appreciation for the work that went into it. Not that she hadn't before. She had always admired craftsmanship and artistry. But knowing how it was made and how much skill went into it made her want to put as much thought into what she made for others in turn.

Alucard's reassurance serves to help her feel a little better. But not by much. It's by no means an absolution of her avoidance nor does she want it to be though it would be the easy way out. Not that that seems top of mind for her at the moment as she collects her measuring tape and pin cushion. ]

As long as it comes out of your pocket. I don't want Benard coming after me again for something I didn't do!

[ The Old Public Hall accountant was excellent at his job. And because of that he had a keen eagle eye for any unnecessary expenses including swiped bottles of wine from the bar.

A potential Benard scolding aside however her mind seems elsewhere as she begins her work. After passing the first several minutes in silence however she decides that ripping off the proverbial bandaid is the only answer to this. ]

Can we talk? About what happened in the dream?

[cryptsleeper]

Got it.

[Alucard does exactly as asked, happy to not have to hold one of the more uncomfortable poses that often go along with these sessions. The dhampir may be immortal and can shrug off wounds without blinking, but that doesn't mean his arms don't get tired after being held like a T after an hour or so.

I'll replace the bottle first thing in the morning. Benard has just been on edge lately with all of the changes to the Hall. While it's functioning great as a creative collaboration space, I know not every payment is coming in on time and some people are playing with deadlines.

[It was good business to help. It wasn't as good to maybe be late with the rent, and it was worse business to be too anal about it, given how many artisans might have to close their shops otherwise.

The silence is companionable enough. Hilda is one of the people out there where Alucard can sit and enjoy the quiet without having to worry things being awkward. Usually that's what conversation is for.

Speaking of.]

--Please. [He sounds relieved.] Wherever you'd like to start.

[theidlemaiden]

[ It was good business to help and it was something that Hilda still resolutely stood by. How else was the community meant to stay afloat if they weren't able to support one another in trying times? She understood though. They were a business too to some degree; albeit one with a rather famous, rather rich establishing owner. Only one other business could really say that and it wasn't exactly arts related.

In the short time it takes Alucard to respond Hilda can't help but wonder if he's going to say that he doesn't want to speak of what had occurred between them in the dream. She wouldn't have blamed him. In fact, it would have been well within his right. She had put the matter on hold because while she was undeniably a great multitasker, needing to juggle feelings that lingered from a dream isn't something she was particularly confident in.

Instead he sounds relieved. And she can't help but catch that feeling in turn - though it would be hard to tell with how she sighs. ]

I don't know. There's almost too many places to start. [ As she works she falls silent for a moment before speaking up again though she sounds far more uncertain than before. ] Would starting how we feel about what happened in the dream be a good start?

[cryptsleeper]

I think that's as solid a ground as we'll find.

[Alucard pauses for a moment, just to get his thoughts in order. Because while he has many and they're confused and exhausted in certain places, there are a few pockets of total certainty.]

If there are any positives to be had, it is this: I learned who I can rely on in the years to come, regardless of what form a given interpersonal relationship takes. That includes you, and while I have always known that you were one of the most reliable people in my life, I find myself reassured in a way that is not a reflection on you, but on the nature of time itself.

[It is probably a little too mushy. Oh well. They'll have to survive that.]